It started just before he turned thirteen.
On a person’s thirteenth birthday they present as either an alpha, beta, or omega. His father was head of the home and had very old school views about how a “proper house” is structured.
According to him, the alpha is the head, typically mated with an alpha or at minimum a strong beta.
Omegas are servants.
This is why Patrick was so afraid of his thirteenth birthday.
He was expected to be an alpha like his two older brothers. He knew this not to be true, how could it be?
Patrick knew he wouldn’t be an alpha.
He wasn’t confident or sure of himself, or strongly built like his father or brothers.
He was thin, with soft strawberry blonde hair, bright blue eyes and when he did smile, he could light up the air around him.
He had a gentle voice, derived from growing up in a strict and alpha-centric house.
His mother was kind, and oh so much like Patrick, so he figured he would most likely present as a beta too.
“Excited about presenting Patrick?” One of Patrick’s brothers asked him.
“I…I guess so.”
It was happening, hours before midnight, Patrick was laying in his bed wide awake waiting to see what would happen when the clock strikes twelve.
If he were an alpha, he would begin his rut.
If he were a beta, he would remain mostly the same, with the added perk of a slightly calmer and more confident aura.
And if he were an omega…he would start his heat.
2 hours later......
No, no no no no no no no, Patrick thought to himself as he felt something wet start leaking out of him. This can’t be happening….
A sharp pain in his lower abdomen made him cry out in pain.
He started having thoughts about alphas, mating, knots, he knew it was his body reacting to heat and heat is what omegas get.
'I'm an omega.' The thought at the forefront of his mind which was swirling in every direction of his head.
A mere 2 minutes had gone by when he heard a pounding at his bedroom door.
Patrick stumbled to the door and unlocked it. As soon as the lock turned his father and mother were coming into the room.
His mother looked calm, as if she hadn’t expected anything else. But his father….his father looked like he was ready to kill.
His face was red and angry, his fists were clenched at his sides.
He just stared down at Patrick. Patrick who was now crying and wrapped in his mothers arms being cooed and cuddled was not able to look his father, an alpha in the face.
“Ill stay in here with you tonight darling, would you like that?” His mother asked.
Patrick nodded his head, not trusting his voice and snuggled closer to his mother.
His father huffed and left the room without a word.
The week of Patrick’s heat went by rather quickly, a lot of pain, and A LOT of awkward conversations with his mother about what he needed to do during future heats to take care of himself.
His father had not been back into the room, hadn’t actually spoken of the youngest of the family since he presented.
His mother, the ever kind and gentle woman she is, was keeping a diligent eye on her boy, bringing him food and water, cuddling him back to sleep and talking to him as though nothing had changed.
If only that were true.