Holt Enterprises to host press conference addressing CEO's involvement in alpha-omega politics.
Darius Holt confirmed to appear and speak at his company's press conference today!
Darius had spoken at plenty of press conferences in his time interning under his dad during high school. While other kids were out doing service projects or preparing for prom, Darius had been one of the spokespeople for an international company. But now, despite all the experience, he was scared of the media. It was not that he had stage fright. He had gotten over that long ago. It was that he knew his words would be twisted and Owen would come out as the villain no matter what he said.
As he stepped up onto the platform and headed over to the podium, cameras flashed like lightning. It hurt his eyes way more than it usually did. He was sweating by the time he was behind the podium, which was weird because he had checked to make sure the thermostat was set at 68 degrees before the start of the press conference. He should be comfortable. But he wasn't. He felt exhausted, and he hadn't even said a word yet. He was hot and weak, and he had to grip the podium to keep from falling over as soon as he stopped moving. Swallowing hard, he started reading from his notes. "Thank you for coming. I'm looking forward to sharing my work and motivations with everyone here." He had to pause and breathe deeply. Why did his head feel light enough to float off of his shoulders? He blinked, focusing his strangely blurry vision on his sheet of notes. "As all of you are aware, a few weeks ago, I came out in active support of anti omega abuse administration. Many of you are uncomfortable hearing me call it that, but that is what it is. When we give alphas the right to do whatever they want to an omega with impunity, that's abuse. When we tell omegas who have been abused that they have to carry the child of the alpha who abused them, that's worse than abuse; that's criminal. What gives us the right to dictate what other human beings do with their bodies? Because we're stronger than them? Because they're too scared to fight us on it? We always walk around thinking we're the bigger person, so why don't we ever act like it? Why do we always do the weak and selfish thing instead of standing up for the people we claim to love? If we don't defend them, that's not love; that's control."
It was going well, too well to last long.
A camera flashed, and pain exploded behind Darius' eyes, a pain that did not stop even when he brought his fingertips up to press against his eyelids. He felt weightless, lost. What was going on? A sudden heat flared beneath his skin, so intense that ice would have vaporized at his touch. He tried to hold on, but his knees unlocked against his will. The next thing he knew, his head had hit the stage and his mind rang with pain and static.
In a moment, hands were turning him onto his back, loosening his tie, pressing a cold pack to his forehead. His dad's voice snapped out an order for someone to call an ambulance and then barked at the press to stop taking pictures of his son.
Dad… Darius' thoughts were slow and agonizing. He felt as if his whole body were submerged in fire. Dad, I'm drowning. Save me. Help me, please. Sirens sent piercing pain through his skull like a nail hammered through the bone, and then there were so many hands on him trying to help. He did not want their help. He wanted…
Owen.
– – –
Daniel Holt had never been so scared. He had felt some fear when his wife Gabriela had given birth to Darius and then Sario, but this? This was crippling, nauseating terror. He was relegated to the waiting room while his eldest son was dying behind closed doors. Daniel might have been a beta, but even he had been able to smell the weakness that had emanated from Darius' body back there on the stage and then in the ambulance. He had never been able to smell his son's pheromones before, and now he wished that he never had. The sheer dread that had just constantly poured off of Darius' body left Daniel with the lingering suspicion that his son was dying and no one knew it yet.
A doctor came out of the doors, made eye contact with him, and motioned to him.
Daniel immediately rushed over. "My son," he said as they stepped back through the doors into the emergency ward, "is he alive?"
The doctor nodded. "Yes, Mr. Holt, your son is alive." She did not add more, which was never a good sign.
"What's wrong with him?" Daniel asked breathlessly.
The doctor sighed. "He has mate deprivation disorder. It's very advanced. Could you tell me the last time he was with his mate?"
Owen, Daniel thought miserably. This is all the fault of that horrible omega. "About a month ago."
The doctor's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Only a month? It usually takes at least a year for symptoms to progress this far!" Her forehead furrowed as she flipped open the chart she carried. "Do you know if they were physical at all?"
Daniel swallowed, but he was long past letting discomfort stop him from helping his son. "Yes, they were. They were together for maybe six months, judging by the pregnancy."
The doctor stopped in her tracks. "Preganancy?" she repeated incredulously. Then she closed her eyes briefly and exhaled aggressively. "No wonder he's degenerated so far. An alpha's instinct is to protect everything that's theirs, especially their omega and children. If those two pieces are removed from the equation, the alpha falls into mate deprivation disorder extremely quickly, adopting omega-like traits such as a desire for comfort and a weakened body. At the stage your son is at, his body is going into shock."
Daniel gripped her arm. "Shock? Why?"
The doctor quietly pulled her arm from Daniel's grip and replied with evident pity in her eyes, "Mate deprivation disorder affects biology, Mr. Holt. In an omega, the disorder can cause them to adapt into a low-level alpha if it doesn't kill them. In an alpha…" Her voice trailed off, but Daniel finished the sentence.
"It makes them into an omega."
The doctor quickly shook her head. "No, it's not that extreme. It morphs an alpha's rut instincts into heat instincts, basically making them more passive. Unfortunately, at this stage the disorder puts an alpha in a constant state of heat, which is unsurvivable."
Daniel felt all of the blood drain from his face. "You're saying that my son's going to die."
"Without his mate, yes, he will die." The doctor put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Is there any way to contact his mate? Even if they hate each other, a couple hours together would keep your son alive."
Daniel felt as if the whole world was caving in on him. "No. They broke up, and the omega hasn't been seen since. We have no idea where he is."
The doctor squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Holt." She took her hand down and pushed open the door to room 37. "Your son's in here. You can stay with him for as long as you want, though you might want to leave before the end. It's never pretty."
Daniel tried to ignore those last words and stepped into the room, carefully pushing it shut behind him. He sat down in the chair angled in the corner, his eyes never leaving his son.
Darius' face was flushed with a high fever, and his body twisted like a contortionist's. Pathetic whimpers and moans staggered past his lips, and his hands shook as he clawed at himself.
Daniel had seen his wife Gabriela in heat plenty of times, but he had always been able to comfort her. He had no way of comforting Darius.
Only Owen would be able to do that, and Owen was long gone.
The hours passed in torturous aloneness. Darius slowly stopped struggling and curled up on his side. One hand reached for the door a few times before it fell limp off the side of the bed. When Daniel came to crouch by his side, his eyes were hazy, unfocused, and dilated. But they focused for a brief instant when Daniel squeezed his hand."Owen?" he whispered.
Daniel felt his heart shatter. "No, it's Dad," he replied quietly.
"Get Owen?" Darius' eyes were pleading and desperate.
"I'll try," Daniel promised. He carefully took Darius' phone, held it up to Darius' face to unlock it, and then scrolled through the contacts until he found Owen's number. He pressed call before he could even think that Owen might have changed his number. He called over and over for nearly ten minutes. Then he switched to his own phone, input Owen's number, and called again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Darius' eyes closed, but his hand kept clenching around Daniel's as if he was trying to hold himself to life with sheer strength and willpower.
The door's latch clicked as someone opened it. The doctor, probably coming to tell him to leave before it got too ugly.
But when Daniel glanced over his shoulder, it was not the doctor who stood there.
It was Owen.