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“Well… I never thought I’d get picked, for one thing. And of course I knew that if I did, I’d wind up on the late-night circuit. But I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Why did you think that?”
“That I wouldn’t get picked? Because so many omegas sign up—”
“No, why did you think you’d be on the late night show?”
Haven glances at me before remembering about the camera. She stares down at her lap for a moment, opening and closing her mouth a couple times, her brow wrinkling in confusion. Finally, she lifts her hands in defeat and says, “You can see me, right?”
Something angry races through me. Something decidedly un-omega. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” I rasp.
Haven looks at me again for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise. Her lips curl up on the sides. “Thank you,” she says. “Honestly, I agree. But I’ve gotten to the point where I just feel like I’m notenough, you know? Not pretty enough, or confident enough, or…” She trails off with a sigh.
I know that feeling all too well. But before I can reply, there’s a hard knock—more like an intense pounding—at the door. Haven jumps, clutching her hand to her breast, before laughing and getting to her feet. I watch her walk to the doorway, my eyes stuck on the sway of those ample hips. Fuck, I want to take her hard over the edge of the sofa.
She stops and plumps her hair for a moment, taking a deep breath. She smooths her hands down over her dress as if to make sure it’s perfect. I want to tell her she looks perfect no matter what; that Reese is going to be deeply devoted to her the moment he scents her, if not the moment he sees her.
Instead, I grit my teeth and focus on the camera.
I’m so distracted by Haven’s sweetness that I haven’t given myself time to be nervous about what’s about to happen. But as Haven swings the door open, revealing one of the biggest alphas I’ve ever seen, everything changes.
I zoom in on the two of them, capturing their first moments, while trying not to fall back into my memories.
The last time I saw Reese Tribbi, he was a wiry teenager, being carted away in a police car. His voice had cracked with teenage rage as he vowed to take revenge on me and my family. And now he’s standing in the doorway, looking at Haven with feral intent. He hasn’t seen me yet. He hasn’t smelled me.
When he does, there’s gonna be hell to pay.
Chapter Three
~Reese~
I mutter to myself as the prison van starts up another hilly city street. A midnight fog is rolling over the concrete, catching the glow from the headlights. I might think it was beautiful if I weren’t in such a damned rotten mood.
This whole situation is bullshit. If it were up to me, I would have stayed in fucking prison. But of course, like everything in my life, this was decided for me. Some asshole slipped some money to some other asshole, and before I knew it, I was on my way to a fucking townhouse in downtown San Francisco, the biggest magical sanctuary city in the world.
Not that it’s my first time in town. I was born here, of course. That’s why I’m an alpha. If I had been born anywhere else, I’d be a beta like the rest of humanity, a total normal person. Instead I’m a freak with a knot on my dick. All thanks to the fucking Current in this godforsaken place.
“You ready for all this, alpha?” the driver says from the front. “You haven’t seen an omega since you were a kid, right?”
I grunt, because he knows it’s true. An omega in an alpha prison? It would be chaos. The prisoners would be killing each other just to get close to that sweet omega scent.
“You ever seen this show before?Omega Girls?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Tv is one thing we have in spades in prison. Half of what we do when we have time is gather around the screen and stare mindlessly at the flickering images of the outside world. And who is more unattainable than the omegas on that fucking show?
I’ve watched it many times, trying to trudge my way through the bitterness and unfairness of the life I’ve been dealt while watching a bunch of alphas blubbering about how they want to knot some simpering omega, and the omega cooing over some shit-for-brains alpha who wouldn’t know the real world if it hit him in the face.
And now I’m matched up with one of those fucking omegas.
I should be happy. Most of the guys I left behind in prison would have been, since all they talk about is omega cunt and ass.
But they expect me to perform? To entertain people? No matter what the prison guards might say in their little dinky break room, I’m not a trained ape. Omegas may smell good, but they really aren’t that different from betas. All they want is a knot and someone to ram it into them hard. It doesn’t matter who it is. In fact, if it’s someone like me—rough and indifferent—all the better.
I’m fucking furious about it, and I haven’t even met this bitch yet. Honestly, it’s not really about her; this is about the superiority of pack alphas. Thinking they’re so much better than me, calling me feral because I’m alone. It’s not like Iwantedto be alone. What choice did I have, sent to prison when I was so young? But now, this is where I am, this is who I am, and I’m not interested in feeling bad about it.
Fuck this place, fuck packs, and fuck omegas. All I want is freedom, solitude, and an end to the incessant needs of others.
The prison van pulls up in front of a townhouse. I stay cuffed in the van as the driver gets out and comes around. He unlocks my cuffs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small plastic bag with a piece of black, braided rope inside it. “Hidden mic,” he says. “Producers told me to give it to you when we got here.”
