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Chapter 1
Kinsey
Vixen Lounge
Theneonsignofthe Vixen Lounge buzzes as it flickers on and off outside of the dimly lit, smoky club I’ve spent every night at for the last two years. I can smell the scents of sex and desire permeating the air as a couple strolls the block.
The man hugs an arm around his girlfriend, touching every surface they pass on purpose. The power move by the betas, leaving their scent trail behind, will fuck with the rich assholes frequenting the Vixen Lounge, looking for a drink, a good time, and if they’re lucky, a nice piece of ass.
But not mine. I’m not on the menu. Tonight, I’m only a server and considered both undesirable and unworthy.
I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Alphas who come around here like the benefits of claiming an omega without actually caring for them. They are the elite and wealthiest of Saint Vista, Calico Proper, Mountain View, and Pacific Crest, the territories that make up the southern region of California. Self-proclaimed royalty, authoritative heads, and politicians—the men and women in power who have established the rules for generations. Omegas must have a pack if we want anything from life. Without an alpha, we have no rights.
It’s why I’m here, far from where I grew up, and why I pop suppressant pills daily. My life depends on it. It’s how I pass as a beta. I’ll never have power, but at least I’ll never be without anything either.
A car horn blares, startling me from my thoughts. I slip my hand into my pocket and shake my pill bottle, listening to the single blue capsule rattle. Fuck. I swear Gillian better show up like she promised. She’s already skipped out on me twice this week, even knowing that my world depends on these fucking pills. I’m not a drug addict, but without the suppressants, my hormones will go out of whack, and alphas will be able to scent that I’m impersonating a beta. My anxiety stems from the thought of losing everything. Of course, I’m not even sure I’d know if I were one. The only addict I can reference is Madame Tamsin, who eats a collection of rainbow pills as if they are candy. I’ve seen her in withdrawal, and fuck, I’d think I’d know if I was. She’s better chasing her fix. I prefer her that way. She’s far nicer when she’s flying on a high than when she is dead sober. I can’t exactly blame her, considering this is her life as an alpha. Her power only comes from training omegas to entertain those who are truly in power. She is the owner of the Vixen Lounge and in charge of her Gorgeous Girls, as she calls them—the ones she knows will get her somewhere other than this shithole of a city. Because that’s what everyone really wants. To escape the Gutter District, where the lowest of the low reside, while those of wealth and power stroll in and out, treating us as toys and possessions, laughing as we beg for just another dollar, another dime, and sometimes, just a little bit of attention.
Not me, though. The last thing I want is attention. I would prefer to stay under the radar and continue serving those and being unnoticed. Bland and plain, undesired. A packless beta who is so average that I deserve nothing more than what I work to earn.
That is if Gillian would hurry up. She’s already fifteen minutes late, and my shift is about to start. If that happens, I won’t be able to step out for another eight hours. You don’t need breaks when you work for Madame Tamsin. With breaks, comes less pay. If I made any less than I do, I couldn’t even afford to live in the damn closet apartment I already struggle to maintain.
A small whistle cuts through the air, and I twist on my heels and spot Gillian peeking from around the corner of the old black-painted brick building. Why doesn’t she come to the front? She most likely owes someone money. That’s probably why she’s been avoiding me up until now.
I peek at the entrance to the club, catching sight of Madame Tamsin collecting dirty money from a fat man in a suit. I can smell his body odor from here, and it repulses me more than anyone else in the club. That’s what the pills help with. They suppress my very nature, keeping my head clear and my body fragrance bland and uninteresting, so I can continue life as one who awakened into a beta upon my maturity.
I don’t like to think about the day my true nature manifested, marking me as an omega and one responsible for bowing down to those who rule and those who decide who is worthy and who is not. From the moment the small heart-shaped birthmark appeared on my right hip, and my eyes turned more vibrant green in color, I knew that I would be forced to follow in my mother’s path. If only she were there to see things through as my father and pack leader had intended. If only I wasn’t left in my uncle’s care after she and my father died in a fire he caused during a gang war in the east side of Fall Harbor, the area north of Pacific Crest and out of the Southern Pack Regimes of California. My uncle did the worst thing imaginable, not turning me into the system and instead doing what many other alphas do by holding tight to the omegas born to the family to use later as leverage.
In the territory of Fall Harbor, many don’t manifest into omegas, the perfect vessel for breeding and helping certain Pack Regimes keep their power and purity. Because omegas are the only ones who can procreate with alphas and handle their knots, being marked and claimed in a way that ensures they are theirs forever.
″Sorry, I’m late, Kinsey. I had a late dinner with Mr. Donahue. You know how that goes. He refuses to give me what I want at a discount unless I suck his cock, and he took fucking forever to blow his load.” Gillian crinkles her nose and laughs, her soft voice trickling through the air. “Do you have the cash? It’s going to be two-fifty.”
Ice trickles down my back. Did she say what I think she did? The last time I paid, it was only one-fifty. She’s just added on an extra hundred, and that’s two weeks of groceries for me. It also could be the electricity and water. Fuck.
″An extra hundred? You know I can’t afford that shit.” I shake my pill bottle, trying my best not to panic. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she doesn’t really mean two hundred and fifty dollars.
Gillian tightens her jaw and gives me a once-over, her lighthearted smile vanishing. It’s in this moment that I know she didn’t say it as a mistake. She really is trying to get another hundred dollars out of me. She knows I’m desperate. It’s either suck it up and go without to get these hormone suppressants or risk having someone find out that I’m not who I portray myself to be. I’ll lose my job. My apartment. If I don’t have these damn pills, I might as well just walk to the corner of Sixth and D Street, waiting for some asshole from the local Pack Regime to pick me up to make a couple extra bucks at auction to someone like Madame Tamsin.
″If you can’t give me the entire amount, I can give you half a bottle for one-fifty.” Gillian shifts on her feet, clicking her heels on the sidewalk. “You have five seconds before I leave. I can’t be seen here. Madame Tamsin is accusing me of selling her shit narcs. She’s out for my fucking tits right now.”
I knew something was wrong when she was late and when she avoided me. And now this? What am I going to do? I have to have these pills. Gillian is the only one who can get them for me.
My eyes water and I blink, pushing away the sudden desperation trying to steal my senses. I wonder if I could take Gillian in a fight. I know how to throw a punch, but she looks twice as strong as I do, her muscles rippling with her movements, showing off the fact that she’s here out of pity because she doesn’t have to help omegas. She just likes the extra cash and working for Mr. Donahue, who treats her like his alpha for shits and giggles, his kink acting as one of the unworthy who suddenly finds someone to save him. If only I could be Gillian. She was one of the few lucky females that manifested as an alpha in a strong pack alongside some of the best alphas of the Pack Regimes.
And she uses it to her advantage. Can I blame her? Fuck no. I’d probably do the same bullshit if our positions were switched, but I wouldn’t just throw it on someone like this. I would warn them so they could be prepared for next time. I could’ve done something extra for Madame Tamsin. Occasionally, there is some horny fucker who wants a beta like everyone believes me to be. I would suck it up if I had to, as long as it meant that I got what I needed.
″Kinsey? Take it or leave it. I can’t wait for you to decide.” Gillian bounces on her feet, clicking her heels again anxiously, stealing glances at the corner of the building as if she expects Madame Tamsin to come charging out.
It wouldn’t be the first time. She is especially territorial with who loiters outside of the Vixen Lounge because she’s afraid that one of the gangs or some asshole will scoop up one of her poor, defenseless Gorgeous Girls. She can smell another alpha from a mile away, and I’m pretty sure that Gillian took one of the suppressant pills just to get here unnoticed.
Because I can barely smell her. Not like I could smell the couple that passed by and the greasy, bulbous, bulging belly man who was waving hundreds the second he entered the club.
I dig into my other pocket and pull out the wad of crinkled bills and hold it out to her. She counts it, knowing that I’m short, and she pops the cap of the bottle she clutches and dumps them without waiting for me to get my own bottle ready. The blue pills scatter across the sidewalk, and she turns on her heels and rushes away, running as if she’s about to be chased by Madame Tamsin.
Fear tightens my chest, and I groan and fall to my knees, scooping up the blue pills as quickly as I can. The fucking bitch. I need to figure out something else with another dealer and fast. I’ve heard rumors whispered among some of the other servers about one of the gangs having an injection available to take over the pills, but it is twice as much. I just...
A tear trickles onto my cheek, and I pluck the remaining pills from the sidewalk, trying not to cry. I spot a handful dissolving in the gross water streaming down the gutter, washing into a grate at the corner.
Fuck. My. Life.
