Forget : A Dark Omegaverse (Unhingedverse)

I feel hot, a little crampy, and tired. I can feel the phantom cramps due to my body being in pain for so long. Blinking as I wake up, I groan, turning to bury my face in my pillow. The scent of leather and shed whiskey fills my senses, making me shiver.

My heat just broke, and I’m a mess of slick, sweat, and starvation. The IV kept me hydrated, but didn’t keep the pain away.

God, I want to roll around in this scent forever. Mine.

Ugh, how can I be reacting this way. My scent blocking… Wait that’s worn off because it’s been⁠—

My phone is on the charger in a cubby hole of my nest, and I grab it to find that it’s been four days since I started my heat. There’s a half empty banana bag filled with fluids dripping into my veins, which only reminds me that I really have to pee.

Squirming, I whimper uncomfortably, ignoring all of the missed messages and calls on my phone. I know I didn’t show up for my shifts at Omega’s Haven, but I can’t call people until I get up, shower, and throw this bedding in the washing machine.

I may need to hide from the staff, because they always tell me they can do it for me. It just feels weird when I can work a laundry machine perfectly fine.

Burying my nose in the pillow again, I decide I can’t wash it. I don’t know why, but the idea physically hurts me, so I sit up and hide it, so it won’t accidentally get touched. I’m going to need to figure out who may have come in here while I was dead to the world.

I’ve had to become really good at removing my IVs lately, since I don’t like my dad seeing what a mess I am at the end of a heat. I hate that I’m so vulnerable and helpless to get over my fears.

Sighing, I close off the valve for the fluid before removing the IV guard and taking care of the cannula for disposal.

Standing slowly, I lean against the wall as I hold gauze to my arm to stem the slight bleeding. I’m always a little dizzy after being prone for so long, but it never gets any easier. Walking slowly, I write a quick note on a sticky note for my dad and put it on my bedroom door before closing it.

I swear I can still smell the slight scent of leather and whiskey as I walk through the room in my tank-top and shorts. It was eleven at night on Christmas when I started feeling intense cramps.

Fuck, I didn’t even get to nest or ease into it. Dr. Fields insists on waiting until my heat begins before he’ll come to the house. I understand it’s because he doesn’t want me to wake up early and in pain.

The efficacy of the treatment is wearing off if my fever dreams are anything to go by. I usually don’t remember anything, retreating to a black cloud of unconsciousness. I wish there was a magic wand for finding a pack that won’t judge me for needing someone who will help me.

It’s probably for the best that those packs showed their true colors instead of agreeing and then fucking me over in a less than pleasant way. Turning on the light to the bathroom and the heated floors, I pull off my clothes to shower.

I swear, I can smell this mysterious scent all over me. God, did this alpha scent mark me?

I’ve seen Wren’s pack do this, and Flynn do it, and I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have someone’s scent on your skin, as part of you. Fuck, I don’t want to get emotional about this.

I always have heightened feelings after my heat, and I hate it.

I use the toilet quickly, my eyes rolling as I empty my bladder. Whoever would have thought that emptying your bladder after so long would feel like a religious experience? Once done, I flush and move to the shower to get started on my post heat ritual.

Turning on the water, I step inside before it’s warm. Shuddering as I hold back a squeal, I let it wash over my overheated skin. It feels refreshing, despite the shock to my system. Pressing the pump for my face wash, I begin to get clean, knowing I’ll be in here for the next half hour.

I’ll need full primping and scrubbing to feel like myself.

Once I’m done with my shower, I dry off and pull on a robe. Leaving my hair up in a towel, I brush my teeth and then moisturize my skin. The constant fluids being pushed through my system kept me from getting dehydrated, but it means I’ll have to pee like crazy for the rest of the day.

Blowing out a breath, I squeeze the water out of my hair with my towel, and then run a little product through my hair. I’ll let my hair figure itself out today, which will mean my hair will loosely curl.

Tossing the towel in the hamper as I walk back into my room, I head to my makeshift nest. I can’t even miss the scent I’m starting to obsess over because it’s saturating the closet.

“Who the hell was in here?” I mutter, wondering if my father will tell me. I’m almost scared to ask, because the answer will be life altering and I know it.

Deciding to let it lie, I change into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. Fuzzy socks also join the ensemble, and then I’m gathering up all of my blankets to sneak off to the laundry room.

Struggling slightly to squeeze out, I chuckle to myself about how ridiculous I must look, barely able to see around the bundle of bedding so I can walk.

Unlocking my door and yanking it open, I hear Dad say, “I’m right here, Aisling. I brought a maid to grab that.”

“Dad, I’d rather do this myself,” I sigh, turning sideways so I can see him. There’s a maid wearing gloves and an amused look reaching for the dirty laundry. She’s a beta, the same one who Dad usually brings up to catch me.

Sometimes he succeeds, others he finds me in the laundry room and chases me out with the promise of food. Speaking of which, my stomach growls loudly, making Dad chuckle under his breath

“Gotcha,” he says. “Hand over the bedding, and I’ll cook for you?”

“You cook?” I ask, surprised. The maid tugs away the bundle in my arms, and I let her. She proudly walks off with the prize of stinky laundry, making me smirk.

“I can,” he admits. “Chef does such a wonderful job, I don’t do it as often anymore. Grab your phone, Aisling. You’re going to need to return some calls.”

“Yes, I saw the notifications,” I murmur, turning around to grab it from my nest. I inhale deeply, as if I’m an addict looking for her next hit, whimpering as I perfume.

God, this is embarrassing. Thank goodness for my panties, nothing is getting past them. Being an omega is messy enough as it is, I can’t handle being called out by my body on top of it.

Hurrying out, I meet my dad at the doorway to my room.

“There’s so many missed calls and texts,” I tell him as we begin walking.

“I know. I did call Omega’s Haven to tell them that you weren’t feeling well, but I don’t know that they believed me,” he admits.

“You’re my father, why would you lie?” I ask as we jog down the stairs. I’m so fucking hungry, I don’t care what he makes as long as it’s food and edible.

“I have a tiny bit of a reputation,” Dad grumbles. “Even people without any mafia affiliation know who I am.”

“Does your reputation include refusing to let your daughter go to work at her organization?” I ask, perplexed by this. I remember the way Domh asked if Dad was forcing me to date, and realize he may be right.

My father is really fucking scary to the outside world.

“It could,” he says with a shrug and a smirk. “How do strawberries and cream pancakes sound?”

“Amazing,” I say. “Yes, please.”

“Take care of work, and I’ll make you a very late breakfast,” he rumbles as we walk into the empty kitchen.

“There’s no one here,” I say in awe, climbing into a chat stool. This kitchen usually is busy, between Chef and an assistant or two.

“I told him to take the week off,” he says. “Now get to work.”

Nodding, I start to fire off texts, answering them in order to the house mom who runs the shelter, Dr. Alys, Hollis, and Wren. I explain that I had my heat and it was a very intense one, so I was unable to text earlier.

I also call back those who left messages, until Dad is serving me pancakes and it’s time to take a break.

“I’m already exhausted,” I whine, cutting off a bite of my breakfast and placing it in my mouth. My eyes shutter closed as the flavors hit my tongue, and I nod appreciatively. “Wow, this is so good.”

Shrugging as if it’s no big deal, he digs into his food.

“Does anyone need you now that you’ve let them know you’re alive?” he asks, amused.

“No, they took care of everything,” I say. “I was also told not to come back until tomorrow, so my schedule is clear.”

“The snow plow came through and cleared the roads, want to go on an adventure?” Dad asks.

Intrigued, I nod. “I’m up for it. What should I wear?” I ask.

“Very warm clothing. I think there’s long johns and snow clothes in your closet,” he says. “Be ready in twenty minutes?”

I’m done eating, so I nod as I pick up my plate to wash it. Intercepting it, he shoos me off, and I’m faced to answer one more message as I return to my room.

Domh:

Sweets, you fell off the face of the earth. I’m going to need proof of life before I storm the castle, please.

Shaking my head at the theatrics, I text him back.

Me:

I’m not a princess being hidden in a tower, Domh.

Taking a photo of my eyes crossed and my tongue sticking out, I send it to him as my ‘proof of life’. I haven’t gone far from the kitchen, so I turn around and head back, exasperated.

“Dad, why does everyone think that I’ve been chained in my room for the past four days?” I ask, brow raised.

Snorting, he shakes his head as he does the dishes. There’s soapy water in the sink, and a bubble or two escapes. Like this, no one would believe that a domestic Cian Sullivan would be as scary as everyone else thinks he is.

“I’m an asshole, my daughter,” he says, continuing to wash and rinse. “I also have enemies, so people think I should be extra careful with you. However, no one outside of the family or those at the party last year knows who you are. Your knife work is also much better than it used to be.”

Blushing at the praise, I shrug. I like my independence, and I know how easy it is for an alpha to overpower me. Hayes easily did it when he first found me. I prefer to keep a knife with me at all times, we just won’t talk about the fact that the one I carry now is his.

“Everywhere I turn, people have this skewed view of you, and it annoys me,” I tell him. “I’ll let most people keep their misconceived notions because it’s working for you, but Domh just asked for proof of life.”

Barking out a laugh, Dad finishes up and pulls the drain on the sink.

“That’s hysterical,” he grunts as he scrubs the sink down. Dad is putting an alarming amount of elbow grease into cleaning that sink, and I watch him suspiciously. “Did you send him such proof?”

Walking over, I show him the photo, which makes him snicker as he rinses out the sink and dries his hands.

“I’m sure he wasn’t expecting that,” he says. “Domh is my lawyer, and doesn’t always see the best parts of me. He is a fucking shark in and out of the courtroom. I’m sure you know that my business isn’t all legitimate, either.”

“From how many times you’ve asked if you can kill people who make me cry and mean it, I’d say yes I do,” I tease him.

“See, you’re a smart girl,” he says with a grin. “A healthy fear of your employers isn’t a bad thing. I also have a feeling he’s interested in dating you.”

“He hasn’t specifically asked,” I tell him archly. “It’s all hypothetical until that point. I’m going to get changed.”

As I walk up to my room, I decide I am kind of annoyed that I haven’t seen him again since the rage room. I thought we clicked, but maybe he’s too scared of my father. That’s just sad if he’s not willing to fight for me.

Blah. I really hate these post heat emotions. They make me a mess. Jogging up the stairs, I notice a few more texts came in, and I ignore Domh’s to check Wren’s text. She started her heat a couple of days before me. She’s started giving me a heads up when she’s going to go radio silent, which is really sweet.

Wren:

Why do I have a feeling this was a rougher heat than usual for you?

Sighing, I wonder if she doesn’t have some kind of Aisling radar, the same way that I can tell when there’s something going on with her. Sometimes, I’ll show up unannounced with hot chocolate and nail supplies, simply because I got a weird vibe.

Me:

I was more lucid than normal. I have a feeling I’m running out of time. I feel a little crampy and blah now.

Wren:

When are your next dates?

Checking my phone, I sigh as I see the update from Hollis to my calendar and an email that I quickly read over.

Me:

Mystery dates start in two weeks. Hollis also says that she’s going to set up some mystery dates for the omegas who have expressed interest at Omega’s Haven as well.

Wren:

We’re talking about you, missy. Though, I’m glad we’re finally getting that moving.

Me:

I know. I’ve just missed four days of life, and I feel as if I’m out of the loop. Dr. Alys also is supposed to start offering services too soon.

Wren:

I’m going to have Shaw drive me out to Omega’s Haven today. I’ll sort things. Take a breath. I’ve got this.

Smiling, I push open the door to my bedroom, glad things will stay on track. I know it feels like I’m deflecting, and maybe I am a little. I just know that other people’s needs don’t disappear simply because I’m having a bad day, week, or month.

I’ve experienced the chaos and anxiety that comes with being tossed away by life. It’s why I love Omega’s Haven and what we’re building. I tend to forget my own needs, I guess in my excitement. My body is telling me I need to pay attention.

Slipping into my closet, I whisper as the mysterious alpha’s scent surrounds me.

“Who are you?” I say, slumping against the wall. Closing the door, I allow myself to be surrounded by his scent.

Mine.

There are very few things I claim to be completely mine. Whoever this alpha is, my entire body is tingling with the knowledge that he is exactly that.

“Get it together, babe,” I mutter.

Looking down at my phone, I sigh as I text Wren.

Me:

Someone was in my nest while I was hooked up to the IV and dead to the world. I think… Wren, he’s my scent match. I don’t know who he is. How fucked is that? Dad is either playing dumb or doesn’t know. But since he locks down the house when I go into heat…

There are bubbles popping up as Wren begins to reply, so I put my phone down to pull off my sweatpants and shirt to change. Looking through my clothes, I find the items Dad was talking about and pull them on. Long Johns are more difficult to put on than you’d think. Finally, I’m dressed, and feel like a puffy marshmallow. My snow boots make the last addition, and I pick up my mittens and phone.

Wren:

Do you have a hot stalker, Aisling? I shouldn’t be teasing, but I’m in love with alphas who presented me with the art of their torture efforts. Clearly, I’m not normal.

Giggling, I shake my head at Pack Mohan’s Penis Picasso. As much as they fucked up, they found their own ways to make it up to her. Allowing myself to take one more deep breath, to fill my lungs with the scent I can’t get enough of, I slip out of my closet and close the door. I don’t want to admit to myself yet that I’ll be rebuilding my nest tonight and sleeping in there.

Finally deciding to check Domh’s text, my lips twitch as I read it.

Domh:

I’m having really inappropriate thoughts about what your tongue can do, Sugar. Put it away.

God save me from dirty minded alphas. Leaving the room, I head downstairs to see what kind of adventure my dad has planned for me.

Evan

Sullivan took her snowmobiling. My truck is parked in a hidden spot so no one can see it, and I hiked in while following them. Now, I’m perched in a tree with binoculars, freezing my ass off as I watch father and daughter laugh.

It almost feels wrong to be here, sharing a stolen moment, but I’m selfish. I want to be a part of every moment in her life, even if it’s as a fly on the wall.

There are blue goggles protecting Aisling’s eyes from the flying snow, and a warm beanie over her blonde hair. Cian has a wide grin on his face as he teaches her how to drive it.

“Ready to hit the trail?” he asks, and she nods wildly, making me smile. She’s so fucking pretty, even though she looks like the marshmallow monster from Ghostbusters, because of her snowsuit.

Cian must have planned this well to make sure she’d be warm.

“I’m ready!” she yells out, and I watch as they disappear into the woods.

Aisling spent four days under medicated sedation for her heat. It’s normal as an omega to have intense heats, but now that her body recognizes Aiden as her scent match, they’re going to be even worse.

Caelin is playing a dangerous game here, having decided that he wants us to officially meet Aisling on the last mystery date that’s scheduled.

I argued that it was too close to her next heat, and Caelin said that it was the only one that he could steal. Pack Rodriguez lives two states away and is known for not regularly checking their communication.

Cian has worked with them in the past, and was incensed when he thought they were ignoring them.

They had to apologize profusely to Cian, and I snicker as I remember. The easiest pack to delete their emails about the mystery date and step in for them by marking the date confirmed was Pack Rodriguez.

While it makes sense, I hate that it’s not closer.

No other pack will be good enough now that she’s been near Aiden. I don’t know how we’re going to get around his fuck up, but I trust him to figure it out.

Dropping out of the tree, I trudge out of the state park and down to my truck. I was curious about what Aisling was doing today, so I couldn’t help myself but follow them out here. I may have been parked near the house, hoping they’d go out.

I didn’t expect to see them having so much fun, though. Cian Sullivan is a hardass, but he loves Aisling. I bet he misses all the lost time they had, and is trying to build all the memories possible now.

Aiden said one of the only things that saved his life while he was in her nest was the fact that he’s tied to Aisling.

A part of me is glad that we have Cian’s blessing to kidnap his daughter, because I do have a healthy fear of him. We can’t fuck this up.

Domh:

What are they doing? Is he teaching her how to bury bodies in the woods?

Snorting as I get into my truck, I read his text, rolling my eyes. Speaking of fear, Domh takes the cake on that.

Me:

They’re on the trail snowmobiling. The shovels stayed behind as far as I noticed.

Sending him a photo that I took of them, I stare down at it. I’ve heard a little about her childhood and how lonely it was. Aisling deserves all good things in her life, but I can’t help also wanting to see how much she fights back.

I want to break her with my pack, revel in how hard she comes at the knowledge that there’s no escape, watch her tears travel down her cheeks as she chokes on my cock. None of us know how to be sweet during sex, which is why Domh always comes with me when I would go to the bar to find pussy to fuck.

Their names didn’t matter, as long as they were down for a hard fuck on my terms. It was fun to make them cry, beg, and come on my cock. They were always surprised by how much they liked it, and some couldn’t meet my eyes afterward.

It’s not my fault they weren’t prepared for my darkness.

The fire I’ve seen in Aisling’s eyes, as she tackles the things in her life while I’ve been stalking her, makes me think she can more than handle it. Who wants vanilla sex anyway?

Driving home, I hum under my breath before deciding to call my cousin. I saw her for a little while during Christmas, but she avoided me for some reason. I don’t like that.

You can ride, but you can’t hide, little cousin.

“Hey, Evan,” Morgan says. “Are you still stalking little omegas?”

“I am, actually,” I tell her, grinning. “It’s like you know me or something. You’ve been acting odd, what gives?”

“I got fired,” she says with a sigh. “The newspaper decided that I wasn’t a good fit, which is bullshit because my stories were always solid.”

“I’m sorry,” I say and mean it. “I know you really liked working there. What are you going to do?”

“The alphas there are blackballing me, which means none of the other newspapers will hire me,” she explains.

Morgan was writing stories covering different events in town. She’d make sure the newspaper ran the dates they were happening, and then she’d attend a few events in Minneapolis with a report of how it was.

People seemed to really like the stories because it helped them plan their weekends. These same events also got media exposure, which helped to draw in more people for the following year.

Morgan loves people and staying busy, so this served both ways.

“Well, I think it’s bullshit,” I growl. “Can I fuck with them? Please?”

“I usually would hesitate to unleash you on anyone, but I’m really pissed off about it,” she admits. “I loved going to Lyons for my journalism degree. The only saving grace is that I have an editing minor so I won’t starve.”

“You’re so overdramatic,” I groan. “You know damn well no one is going to let anything happen to you, Morgan. I’m sending you a hundred dollars now. If you need more, I want you to tell me. Do your parents know yet?”

“They do,” she says with a sigh. “Dad wants to attach pretty cement shoes to their feet and drop them into the deepest lake in Minnesota.”

“He is my favorite uncle,” I admit with a grin. That’s a lie, I don’t really have one, but if I did, it would be him. “Are you going to let him?”

“They’re well known in the community,” she complains. “People would miss them.”

“I’ll cut off the fingers they don’t need,” I promise, enjoying her snort of laughter. “So are you saying that you’re looking for editing positions?”

“Possibly,” she says. “I’m going to enjoy the end of December, and then start sending out resumes. I put out some feelers to newspapers for journalism positions, and got shut down hard.”

“That’s so shitty of them,” I grunt. “I’ll talk to the guys. They may want to help, because I handled Meghan’s pack on my own.”

“The psychopaths got jealous, huh?” she teases. “I need to go visit Meghan soon and her sweet baby. At least that’s one benefit of all my extra time.”

“Bring her to New Years’ dinner,” I tell her. “She’ll need family around. Meghan did nothing wrong, I don’t want her to hide away.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her. I know her mom wants to see her. She just feels so much shame over it,” she explains.

I remember the things they said to me before I killed them and shudder. Meghan was their slave, and they beat her regularly. I don’t know if they hurt her kid, but I made sure they screamed for me just in case.

I didn’t have as much time to torture them as I would have liked, so I tied the alphas to the heavy dining room table and lit them on fire.

They were the origin of the fire. Aiden made sure the ropes were cut away and removed when he sent men out to check my work. That’s what pack is for, after all.

Pack Neumann will never hurt Meghan again either way.

“Meghan has nothing to feel ashamed about,” I say. “They were terrible alphas. It’s hard to escape when you have constant broken bones and you’re afraid for your son. We’ll keep reminding her of that. She’s out now. That’s what she should focus on.”

“Thanks to you,” Morgan sighs.

“Nope, you helped by telling me, and getting her a place at Omega’s Haven,” I remind her. “Stop selling yourself short.”

“Ugh. And please don’t send me money, I’m fine,” she says.

I’m pulling into my driveway as she says this and park before pulling up my app to send money. Since she’s being a brat, I send her six hundred dollars and then disable it, so she can’t boomerang it back.

“Mmhmm, sure,” I say. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Wait, what’s this notification on here? Evan, did you really⁠—?”

“Love you, bye!” I call out before hanging up.

I swear, it’s the little things in life that make me happy.

As I’m getting out of the car, I see my mom’s phone number pop up, and I sigh, knowing it’ll be a short-lived high of success.

“Hi, Mom,” I mumble.

“Hi, yourself,” she says, amused. “Are you torturing your cousin?”

“How did you hear about that so fast?” I groan.

“I actually didn’t until you told me,” Mom says, giggling. “What did you do?”

“I sent her money for being a brat,” I grumble, closing the door to my truck and locking it.

“I don’t know if we should be rewarding that type of behavior,” she says so seriously that I choke back a laugh.

Oh Mom, we aren’t going to talk about punishment and rewards for brats, not while we’re talking about Morgan, anyway.

“You’re right,” I choke out. “I’m just getting home from running a few errands, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in on you, figure out when I should begin to nudge you boys about finding an omega so I can have grandbabies,” she says, making my eyes bulge.

Well fuck, I don’t know if we’re ready for tiny humans.

“Mom,” I gasp. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m not,” she says, snickering. “The lot of you aren’t ready for that. I wanted to know if Aiden could bring the whiskey your father likes?”

“Jesus wept,” I whisper. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I’m the baby in our group, Mom. I’m too young to go out like that.”

“Yes, your birthday is next month, don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she says. “You’ll be twenty-nine like the other boys. Speaking of, I need to go shopping for you. Any requests?”

“I don’t really need anything,” I admit. I always try to think of at least one thing, because otherwise she’ll go overboard.

Ugh, she has me all discombobulated.

“I’ll call Domh or Aiden,” Mom mutters. “I’ve been thinking of planting some flowers in your front flower beds in the spring.”

The only reason we have flower beds at all is because our mothers insist on it. We weed them like the good sons that we are. That’s just how it is.

Desperate, I find myself nodding as I decide that’s the perfect present.

“You know Mom, I love that idea,” I agree quickly. Spring won’t be until at least April, and we’ll hopefully have Aisling as our omega by then.

My parents don’t mind kidnapping very much, as long as everyone is happy by the end. It’s how my brother’s pack ended up with his omega.

“You’re hiding all sorts of things, aren’t you?” she asks, sounding delighted and deranged. God, my mother is up to something. Hopefully one of her other children will do something interesting enough for her to forget about me.

I’m not unhinged just for the fuck of it. I got it from my mama.

“Not at all, well, nothing that I’m actively getting into trouble for,” I amend.

“Mmhmm. I’ll see you soon, Evan. Love you,” she says as I unlock the front door to the house.

“I love you, Mom,” I say as I hang up.

“Why are you on that woman’s radar?” Domh asks with wide eyes as his phone buzzes. Glancing at it, he sighs. “She thinks we’re up to something.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m going to have to go to Sunday dinner to throw her off the trail. I haven’t even done anything yet and she’s like a damn bloodhound.”

Shutting the door, I roll my eyes as I remind myself how much I love my crazy family.