Oxford Heat: A soft and steamy non-shifter omegaverse romance

by Hannah Haze

  "It's much, much more than that," she admits, removing her hands as her lip trembles.

  "Then what are you going to do about it?"

  "Do?"

  "Your boyfriend, or whatever he is, has been arrested?"

  Shit. Yes. That.

  "Have the police been in touch about his alibi?" Rose says.

  "No. He won’t have told them."

  "Because it was a secret?"

  "Yes," she says, bowing her head. "And I've just been down there and the officer at the desk wouldn't even listen to me."

  "But his mobile phone will show he was nowhere near the crime scene."

  "I always make him turn it off. Fuck, it's going to look bad for him."

  "Yes, it is."

  "And they don't believe me." Her voice rises in panic. "They think I'm his Omega and that I'm just covering for him. Shit, they probably think I'm saying it out of some Alpha-Omega loyalty thing. Especially if he changes his story because of me."

  "Is there any way you can prove he was with you?"

  She racks her brains desperately trying to figure out some way of connecting him to her, to her home. She shakes her head violently. "No, no. There's nothing."

  "Hmmm, there might be one way. You might not like it though."

  "What?" Cora asks.

  " I have studied some case law where swabs were done on an Omega which showed they'd been in heat so many days ago and with a certain Alpha; DNA evidence."

  "Would that work time wise?"

  "It did in those cases, but I'm not sure."

  Cora jumps to her feet. "That sounds hopeful," she says. "I'd better get back down there."

  "Wait, wait. Slow down, Cora. You shouldn't go down there without a lawyer."

  "A lawyer?" she says. Yes, that's why she's here. She needs Rose by her side, someone that knows the game and the rules and how to play.

  "Yes. The police are notorious for their Alpha Omega prejudice. You need someone with you who knows the law. Otherwise, it could all blow up in your face."

  "I can't afford a lawyer! Can you help me please, Rose?"

  Rose shakes her head, and the earth falls away beneath Cora’s feet.

  But then Rose pulls out her phone. "Let me call my tutor. She's an expert in Omega law. I'm sure she'd help."

  "Seriously?"

  "Well, let's see." Rose lifts the phone to her ear and Cora can hear it ringing, then a clipped, female voice answers. Rose explains the situation, and Cora can't help but be impressed by her friend. From her it would have been a rambling mess, but from Rose it's clear, precise and persuasive.

  "She wants to talk to you," Rose says, handing over the phone.

  "Hello," Cora says, cradling the phone against her cheek.

  "Hello, this is Dr Pearson. Ms Swift?"

  "Yes. Hi,"

  "Ms Swift, I am willing to help you, but before I do, I have to ask you whether what you have told Rose is the truth. Were you with Mr Wood on the night of the assault?"

  "Yes, that's correct. I was."

  "And that is the absolute truth?"

  "Yes," she says firmly.

  "In that case, this is what we are going to do: I will call the station to tell them we are coming in to make a statement. I will arrange a time and will text you the details. I will meet you outside the station. Do not, under any circumstances, go in there without me. Do you understand — even if they invite you in?"

  "Ok, yes. But will it be soon? I can't bear," she pauses to stop her voice from wavering, "for him to be stuck in there when he did nothing wrong."

  "I expect they'll want this done as soon as possible. If he has an alibi, it makes no sense for them to waste any more time on Mr Wood."

  "Ok."

  "Now what's your number?"

  Cora recites it off and Dr Pearson reassures her she'll be in touch shortly, then hangs up. When Cora looks back to Rose, she sees she has made her a cup of tea. She hands it over and they go to sit around the kitchen table.

  "She's going to help?" Rose asks.

  Cora nods. "She's calling the station and arranging a time for me to go in and make a statement."

  "Good. She's amazing."

  "Thanks, Rose." She squeezes her friend's hand. "Really thank you."

  "So, now. Are you going to tell me how the hell you ended up in a thing with Noah Wood?"

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dr Pearson is a small, slight woman with a practical but unflattering haircut and unfashionable rectangular glasses. She wears a suit despite the warm day, and beside her Cora wishes she'd worn a more professional outfit rather than the yellow sundress she'd thrown on.

  She meets her outside the police station and the tutor leads her to a coffee shop. As they go inside and find a table, Cora looks around and spies men and women dressed in suits, and she’s sure this must be a regular place for lawyers to meet their clients. Her right hand shakes and she stuffs it out of sight on her lap as she takes her seat.

  They order a coffee each and then Dr Pearson heads straight for the crux of the matter, not bothering with small talk. "I need you to run through the timeline of events," she says, taking out a small moleskin notebook, and popping the cap from her expensive looking fountain pen.

  Cora swallows, looking around. It’s not something she wants strangers to hear.

  Dr Pearson leans forward and smiles sympathetically. "First things first. Don’t be embarrassed about this or ashamed or any other nonsense emotion. You’ve done nothing wrong and you are helping catch the real perpetrator by setting the matter straight. Do you understand, Cora? This is the right thing to do."

  Cora nods. "Yes." She takes a deep breath. "Noah — the Alpha they’ve arrested."

  Dr Pearson nods briskly and waves her hand.

  "Arrived on the Sunday and stayed with me," she lowers her voice, "helping me through my heat, until the Thursday."

  "And he didn't leave you at all during that time?"

  Cora raises her eyebrows.

  "I know, I know, silly question, Cora, but one you will be asked."

  "No. There were moments when we both slept or he made me food. But the evening that attack took place was right at the start of my heat and at that point I was very much awake and," heat rises in her cheeks, "and he was very much with me."

  "Good. You need to say it like that. With that conviction. Don’t let them bully or intimidate you," the law tutor scribbles in her book. "And there is no way in the confusion of your heat, you could’ve been muddled about the timing, et cetera?"

  "No. He arrived on Sunday lunchtime and we didn’t sleep until late that night, until after the assault had happened."

  "And the business with the phone?"

  "I always make him give me his phone and I switch it off."

  "Yes," she closes her book, "I can see how his phone being switched off would look suspicious to the police."

  Cora runs her hands down her face.

  "Don’t worry, though, Cora." The woman pats her shoulder. "I’m confident this won’t take long." She turns in her seat to put on her jacket. "Oh, one other thing. How long have you had this arrangement with this Alpha?"

  Cora stares at her. How long? She counts. It can’t be that long, can it? "Eighteen months."

  "Right, so there'll be a pattern which will help." The older woman stands up and drains her cup and Cora follows, leaving her own drink untouched. She follows Dr Pearson down the street and across the road, her heart pounding in her chest and in her ears.

  A different police officer, this time a young woman, greets them from behind the desk and shows them along a corridor to a plain room where two police inspectors are waiting for them.

  Dr Pearson continues her equally efficient manner. She dismisses the inspectors' offers of cups of tea and their attempts to needle bits of information from Cora and takes charge of the conversation.

  "We're here to make a statement," she says. "Inspector Browne, I explained the situation on the phone. We would like to help you
with your investigation."

  The inspectors glance at each other.

  "Thank you," says the middle aged woman. "We are just trying to understand the nature of Ms Swift and Mr Wood's relationship."

  Under the table, Cora wrings her hands. Up until a couple of hours ago nobody else knew about this 'relationship'. Now she's going to have to define it to two hostile strangers.

  "Why doesn't Ms Swift tell you what she knows first and then you ask any questions afterwards? I think it would save us all a great deal of time."

  "Okay," says Inspector Browne. "Please go ahead?"

  Cora coughs. The male inspector is eyeing her with a grim expression so she directs herself towards the woman.

  "On the first week of the Easter holidays—"

  "What week was that?"

  "The week commencing 23rd April," Dr Pearson says.

  "I had scheduled my heat. I always schedule them for the holidays so as not to interfere with my studies." She peers down at the plain table. Its surface is plastic, but it's made to appear wooden. "Noah has been helping me with my heats for about a year and a half. He was with me for nearly the whole of that week and didn't leave my flat."

  "Let's be certain about this," the man says. "When did he arrive and when did he leave?"

  "He arrived on the Sunday, Sunday 23rd, and left on Thursday 27th."

  "And you were together the whole time? How can you be certain he didn't leave?"

  Cora looks at Dr Pearson, who gestures for her to continue. She stares the man hard in the eye, determined not to be ashamed of her actions. They are normal, perfectly normal, Dr Pearson had said. She likes that woman a lot. "We were together in my flat for that whole period of time . He didn't leave, that would be kind of impossible for an Alpha to do in the middle of a rut with an Omega in heat."

  "Mr Wood has been vague about his whereabouts at the time of the assault," Inspector Brown says.

  "I asked him to keep our arrangement private."

  "But given the circumstance, I suspect he would—"

  "Ms Swift can show you the correspondence leading up to their planned time together," Dr Pearson interjects.

  "The point is Mr Wood didn't reveal this to us, and we also have the added problem that his mobile phone was switched off for the whole time of the assault."

  "I took his phone off him when he arrived and switched it off. An Omega can be quite vulnerable during a heat and that made me feel more secure." She doesn't need to say more; the internet is full of pictures of Omegas during heats that have clearly been taken without their consent.

  "I assume the phone records would show Mr Wood arriving at Ms Swift's and his phone showing at that same location again when he left on the 27th," Dr Pearson adds.

  Inspector Browne signals at the other policeman and he opens the file in front of him and shuffles through the papers, locating a sheet that he pulls out and scans his eyes over.

  "Please confirm your address," he says.

  "Flat 1, Number 10, Newbeem Road, OX1 3XY."

  The inspector pulls out a printed map and runs his hand over it, locating the address and sweeping his gaze over the area.

  "Yes, we'd need to double check, but the records do seem to confirm that."

  Cora exhales silently, her shoulders relaxing. Dr Pearson presses her hand under the table.

  "Is there anything else you need from Ms Swift?"

  The inspectors look to one another and the younger man shakes his head.

  "No, that's all," says Inspector Browne. "We'll take a note of your phone number and get in touch with you if we need to."

  Dr Pearson fishes a business card out of her breast pocket. "I'd appreciate it if you'd call me in such a case."

  The inspector takes the card somewhat sheepishly.

  "Does this mean you'll let him go?" Cora says.

  The inspector sighs, tucking the business card into the file. "Yes."

  Cora bites her lip, caught by an urge to burst into tears and start hugging everyone in the room. Instead she steadies herself and whispers, "thank you."

  Outside the station, she shakes Dr Pearson's hand.

  "Well, that was relatively straightforward. And I'm pleased we saved you the need for a swab analysis," the tutor says.

  "I have a suspicion it wouldn't have gone so easily without you there."

  The small lady smiles, gripping Cora's hands in her own. "I wish the two of you the best of luck, and if the police do get in touch, call me."

  "I will."

  "I have to dash back to the office now. Can I drop you anywhere?"

  "No, thank you. I'm going to wait here."

  The older woman nods. "Take care," she tells her as she leaves.

  Chapter Twenty

  At the count of seven thousand and twenty-two, a pair of footsteps halt outside his cell and the lock rattles in the door before it slides open. A uniformed officer waits by the door.

  "I'm pleased to tell you, Mr Wood, that you are no longer a suspect and therefore free to go," the man tells him

  "What?"

  "You can leave. A few papers you need to sign first. Your parents are waiting for you at the front desk."

  He nods and stands, running his hand through his hair and straightening his t-shirt.

  His mum is better than he thought she was. He glances at his watch. She can't have got here more than half an hour ago, and already he's free.

  His dad waits for him at the reception desk, looking relieved. He steps forward when he sees Noah and grasps him by the shoulders.

  "You alright, son?" he asks.

  "Yes, fine." Around him his dad's scent peaks with concern, and the intensity of it along with his dad's worried eyes finally lets the severity of everything sink in. He coughs and his dad squeezes. "Where's Mum?"

  "Talking to the inspector in charge, trying to find out what's going on."

  "I don't understand."

  "When we got here, your mother was ready to go all guns blazing, and then they told us you are no longer under arrest."

  Noah squeezes the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck?" he mutters.

  "Must be some new information."

  A small constable behind the desk slides a clear plastic bag onto the counter, containing his keys, wallet and phone. "Here's your belongings, Mr Wood. Please could you sign for them?"

  Noah scribbles his name and takes the bag. "Anything else?"

  "Nope, you're free to go."

  "Come on, let's wait outside," his dad says. "The smells in here!"

  His dad goes first, holding the heavy door open for him and he steps through into the bright afternoon, blinking furiously as his eyes adjust to the light.

  "I could do with a beer," Noah groans as his dad comes to stand next to him, hands in his pocket.

  "Yeah, and a cigarette."

  "I suppose both are out of the question," Noah mumbles.

  "You know your mum."

  He kicks at the ground and then halts, his dad stiffening beside him too, sensing the same thing. Cora.

  He spots her dashing across the road, her hair flying behind her as she runs. She's wearing a plain, yellow dress that makes the colour of her eyes pop, and her cheeks are flushed pink. When she reaches their side of the road she keeps running, straight towards him.

  He tries to make sense of it. Why is she here? Is she angry? Concerned? But he finds he doesn't care. Seeing her is like taking a long drink of water after a trek through the desert. He could happily stand and soak her in all day.

  "Noah!" she says, flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his chest.

  "Cora?" Cautiously, he wraps her in an embrace, unsure what this means.

  Beside him, his dad arches an eyebrow, stepping aside.

  "Why didn't you tell them where you were?" she says, her body shaking.

  "I... I don't know. Because you told me not to, I guess."

  "Fuck! I don’t want you to end up in jail."

  "Really?"

 
; She squints up at him. Her eyelashes are wet.

  "Of course not." she says. "Why the hell would you think that?" Her hands clasp at him. "I'm so sorry. I messed up."

  She smells amazing — as always — the scent seeming to invade his pores and take over his senses. He knows no matter what this woman does to him, he'll never not forgive her. All this talk, all this bullshit, about Alphas and their dominance, their abuse of power, and it's this little Omega who has him under her control. And he doesn't care one bit. Holding her in his arms is the best feeling in the world. Assuming he'd never get to do it again had been misery.

  "Did you tell them, Cora? Is that why they let me go?" She nods, one lone tear sliding down her cheek. He wipes it away with his thumb. "You didn’t have to come down here for me."

  "Don't be silly."

  He wants to ask her if he’s a fool to raise his expectations, but he can't find the words and neither can he let her go.

  Behind him, his dad coughs.

  He takes Cora's hand in his own and spins around.

  "You're the young lady who has been occupying so much of my son's time," his dad says with a grin.

  "This is Cora, Dad."

  "Hi," Cora says.

  "She confirmed to the police where I was at the time of the assault."

  "And they believed you?" his dad asks.

  "Cora can be pretty forceful." He squeezes her hand and she leans into his arm, stroking her thumb along his little finger. In his chest his heart thumps a little stronger, but he daren’t hope.

  "Well why don't we get some food, you kids must be starving and you can tell us all about it."

  Noah shakes his head. "Cora wouldn't —"

  "I'd love to," she interrupts.

  "Great. I'll just see if I can drag your mum away from whatever it is she’s doing in there." His dad waves towards the station.

  "Probably threatening to sue them," Noah says.

  "Ha! Probably!"

  Noah waits for him to leave, then turns to Cora. He still has hold of her hand, he's not letting go.

  "I missed you," she says.

  He swallows away a lump in his throat. "I missed you too...a lot." He interlocks his fingers through hers. "In fact, it hurt."