My heart raced. As a guy, I never really had to worry about... a man attacking me in that way. Sure, it happened to others, but I was male on a mostly straight world. Now? I was Omega. Matros said Volardi wouldn’t attack me, but I was on Earth now.

Nate, wouldn’t do something with Becky here. Just imagining was enough to make me fight to remain standing.

Becky’s voice lowered. “Okay. That’s enough. Leave him be.”

He turned toward her and looked down. “I’ll say when it’s enough. I always knew he wasn’t a real guy. This proves it.” He winked. “So whatcha say girlie? Want to test out a real man?”

I blinked slowly. Nate wasn’t gay, and this was his way to get under my skin. Still, the thought of him in that way made my skin crawl. Great, guys propositioning me for sex. Wonderful.

I wanted to say something clever that would demean him but nothing came. Instead, I concentrated on slowing my breathing and heart rate.

She puffed out her cheeks before she spoke. “Really? You’re talking about fucking my brother... in front of me?”

“He turned himself into a bitch for aliens. Not my fault.”

I didn’t agree with this logic. Judging from the flushed skin and flared out nostrils, Becky didn’t either.

The crunch of gravel took us out of whatever situation we were in. That had to be my Pa. Most people would use a hover-car and arrive semi-silently. He still used good old human technology.

Seeing him as the new me was something I dreaded ever since I came up with this new plan. Now it was a relief – even if a mixed one. Asking for Nate to leave would be useless. Someone like him would stay out of spite, to assert his masculinity. He stood still knowing I’d have to squeeze past him. Either my hips or chained nipples would have to rub against him. I choose my ass.

His voice was low and husky. “Figures.”

I scratched at my skin as if to remove his essence.

Two familiar voices took me out of my self-reflection. One was my Pa screaming, and the other was well, mine – sort of.

Oh hell.

I ran out of the house first while Becky and Nate followed behind me. In the gravel driveway was my Pa, face down with his hand behind his back. His ‘pregnant’ assailant was on top.

“Get the hell off him,” I yelled.

I wouldn’t say there was panic on his face. Frustrated rage with some confusion seemed more appropriate. Especially, since his pregnant son had him in an arm lock and there was a twin in front of him.

Amid my Pa’s yells, my twin spoke. “He would not remain in the vehicle.”

“Because it’s my goddamn house.”