Chapter Twenty-One
“This place is in the middle of nowhere. Maybe we should’ve told someone where we were going in case we don’t come back,” Mason said as we drove down a back, state road that I had only driven on like once and only because I had gotten lost.
“Stop, Mason. They’re not going to kill us.” I hoped my words were true because honestly, I didn’t know what we were walking into.
“What if they try to get us to join their cult?” he asked, looking out the window watching the farm fields go by.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not a cult.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
I turned down a road that looked more like a long driveway. Each side lined with trees so close together you couldn’t see much beyond them, and after about a couple of miles, we came to a tall wrought iron gate. I pulled up to the speaker box and hit the red button.
“Holy shit, we’re going to die or never be found again or both.”
“Mason, if you really want—” I said.
Someone from the other end of the speaker spoke. “Pine Wood Falls, how can I help you?
“We’re here to see Dr. Matthews.”
I gave them my name, and the gate opened. We drove about another fourth of a mile before we came up to a large, white colonial house. A wooden sign sitting in front read: Pine Woods Falls Welcome Center. I parked in the small parking lot next to the building, and we got out. Walking over to the front door, Mason stopped and grabbed my forearm.
“We doing this?” he asked.
“I think we’re about to. It somehow feels right.”
“I hope you’re right on feeling right.”
“Let’s go,” I said.
We entered into a large foyer with a small antique table and a sign that said, Please ring the bell. I shrugged and rang the little silver bell next to the sign. Dr. Matthews came out from a door next to a grand set of stairs.
“Mason, Conrad, so glad you came.” A tall black man wearing khakis and a red polo shirt walked out of the door, too. “This is Mr. Jones, and he’ll give you a guided tour and help answers whatever questions you have.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, giving Mason and then me a handshake.
“So, this place,” I said, glancing around at the shiny buffed floor and the tall ceiling with ornate crown molding.
“We call this The Welcome Center, but it’s really just a gathering place. But if anybody new ever arrives or needs help with anything, someone is always here. To the left we have the day room,” Dr. Matthews said, waving her hand toward the spacious room off of the foyer. “People come here to relax, catch up with each other, have coffee. Even though we call it a day room, we’re open until late into the evening. And across the other side, is the banquet room, used for large gatherings. And in the back, we have the kitchen and another sitting room, and upstairs are individual living accommodations.”
Mason bobbed his head but had yet to say anything. He held up a finger and pointed it at Dr. Matthews, opened his mouth but snapped it shut again.
“I’m sure you have so many questions, Mason,” Dr. Matthews said.
He nodded his head a good few times. “Um, yeah.”
“Ask us whatever you want.”
He scratched the tip of his nose and exhaled. “This whole alpha/omega thing. What exactly is that about?”
“A good place to start,” Dr. Matthews said with a smile.
“I’ll take this if you don’t mind,” Mr. Jones said.
“I don’t care who tells us, just actually tell us something besides magically expanding penises.”
“Some people have DNA that’s a bit different. There’s a gene that’s been passed down for generations. We refer to it as the wolf gene.” Mr. Jones pressed his fingertips together, making a steeple with his hands.
“Oh, Jesus,” Mason said.
“Are you for real?” I asked.
“Yes, and people who have this gene display slight characteristics of wolf behavior and biology. Generally, the behavior is much stronger than the biology.”
“Wolves aren’t inherently intersex, so how does that explain me?” Mason asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Mr. Jones.
“We’re not for certain exactly. We believe it’s a genetic mutation from the wolf DNA mixing with the human. And it’s not just the omegas. It doesn’t happen as often, but alphas can be intersex, too.”
“So, Conrad’s DNA or gene or whatever the hell…”
“He has the alpha gene. You have the omega gene.”
“This doesn’t seem like a common thing, so what were the chances of us meeting?” Mason bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair.
“The gene has been passed down for generations and those who hold it come from certain regions in the country. He probably picked up on your scent and was drawn to you, sought you out. Let’s walk and talk, shall we?”
“I suppose,” Mason said.
We followed Mr. Jones out a set of patio doors that led to a large veranda with lawns and gardens all around. Two guys walked across the veranda in our direction.
“Mason, look, there are other pregnant dudes. It’s amazing,” I said, trying not to stare at their round stomachs.
“Did you drug us?” Mason asked, his little nose all scrunched up.
Mr. Jones laughed. “No, we did not.”
“This is just so. It’s gah. I don’t know.” Mason shook his head and watched the two pregnant people go by.
“It is a lot to take in at once. That’s why we encourage you to continue visiting, learn more, meet others. Decide if you want to stay for any duration in your pregnancy.”
“You guys are a cult.” Mason stopped walking and put his hands on his hips.
“No. No. We offer omegas and their mates a place to stay during the pregnancy for whatever reason. They’re not comfortable being out in the world. They need a calm environment. They’re tired of answering all the questions. They just want to get away and enjoy their pregnancy, and then of course, give birth at the hospital here. And people like us, often like sticking close to each other.”
“How expensive is that?” I asked. Mason had already been worried about the cost of going to the doctor in the first place and now all this other stuff, too.
“We help cover the costs of the accommodations and everything that comes along with them, and the hospital takes most major insurances.”
Mason tipped his head. “What’s the catch?”
“We have donors and sponsors. Mainly pairs giving back,” Mr. Jones said, walking along a path through the gardens.
Mason shook his head and looked up at Mr. Jones. “That’s kinda nice, but I can’t see hiding myself away here.”
“And that is perfectly fine. Do you think you’d like to give birth at The Health Center?”
“Uh, health center doesn’t sound like a place to be birthing a baby,” Mason said.
“It’s a fully functioning hospital. It’s over this way. We call it The Health and Education Center because we use the hospital to educate incoming alphas and omegas, but it’s still a fully functioning hospital.”
“I don’t know. It’s still too unreal to me.” Mason scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Would you like to see something? My phone is buzzing so it might be the perfect time.” Mr. Jones pulled his phone from his back pocket, typed something, and then slid it back in.
“What?” I asked.
“Some omegas sign up for the educational program so others can learn from them. They want to share their birthing experience to help other omegas feel more at ease about it. We have one young man who’s about to deliver. If we hurry, we should be able to see.” Mr. Jones had a huge smile on his face.
“See some guy give birth?” Mason asked, twisting his lips to the side and glancing over at me.
“Yes, there’s a viewing window. He’s sharing his delivery so others can see it can be done, and it’s safe and natural for people like you.”
Mason sighed. “Oh God, okay.”
Mr. Jones led us over to a small, two-floored brick building with large cement columns in front and wide stairs that led up to the entrance doors. We followed him inside to see a man give birth.