I picked up an omega. He had fair skin and a delicate, frail build, and his every word and gesture released an overwhelming amount of pheromones. It was no surprise that I was willing to take him home.
I'd already picked up five, six, seven, eight omegas just like him.
Sometimes they'd argue, sometimes they'd fight, and sometimes they'd ask me which one of them was better.
I stayed silent, not knowing why they were making life difficult for an honest woman like me.
Then one day, when the omega I'd picked up most recently clung to me, he accidentally let out the aggressive pheromones of an Alpha.
I was having a breakdown while my hands stayed glued to his soft, peachy pectoral muscles.
I was uneasy, yet accepted it all the same.
But later, I realized things weren't as simple as they seemed...
You're saying my boss, General Zelei, used my kind-hearted habit of picking up omegas in an attempt to turn me gay?
Theme: Live for myself
