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Orion didn’t ask to awaken as an omega. He didn’t even ask to be our pack’s omega. But he is. He’s ours. Our mate. Mine.
My dream’s a little cottage in the woods with no one to bother me, desire me, or hate me just for existing. I want to do bookkeeping online and drink hot cocoa in my herb garden.
I give it a week before you’re slinking back to the hole you came from.” What is it with low-tier betas feeling the need to put me in my place? I know my place. Better than they do. I would LOVE to slink back to my hole. It’s comfy there, with books and snacks instead of beta bastards and asshole alphas.
But you can’t run from your fated mates. Only I can because mine aren’t mine. Maybe I waited too long, suppressed myself too long. They found another omega. One who’s not broken. One who’s not a coward like me. I run into the woods. I run like my demons are chasing. I run, and this time, I don’t think I’m ever going to stop.
Lilah. Her name is the purest poison. It forces me to remember the girl I refuse to recognize. That girl was sweet and smiling, but somehow always bruised and crying alone. I’d find her hiding in dark corners whenever I followed my father to work. That Lilah had sparkles in her grey eyes. I must have dreamed that girl.
A scent match. Destiny. Fate. My meant-to-be mates. Omegas have an extra fail-safe when it comes to finding our matches. We don’t need to be awakened to recognize their scents. To them, my scent is nothing. To me, theirs is everything I can never have.
I need to stop, but Finn dips a second fry in ranch sauce, and I’m only flesh and blood. I open for him.
“Finn!” she gasps my name. Fuuuuck, that’s good.
She grips the bars, shaking. “Babydoll?” I pry her hands away from the metal. “Tired,” she murmurs, head lolling against my chest. My heartbeat levels off and I let out a breath. I was worried— Holy fuck. I was worried? Me? I haven’t worried about shit since I notched my first kill at seven years old. I wasn’t supposed to start assassination work that young, but what are you gonna do when you get kidnapped and tortured?
Only a few things make me feel alive. Bikes. Stunts. Saunas. Killing. Clubbing. Fucking. And Lilah motherfucking Darling. I wave to lower our cage. As soon
Why does my enemy understand me better than my own goddamned pack?
Who knew? I love money math.
“Re-read the girl’s records,” Hikaru insists. “She’s evasive. Jumpy. Always in a fight. Never attended events with alphas unless she was coerced. Lilah’s not going to trust your pack unless you earn it.”
She has dark circles under her big eyes and a hint of yellow bruising in her hair. It’s not a healthy look, and it makes an unwelcome rumble build deep in my chest. I should be protecting her.
“I’m used to being alone.” There’s a resignation in her voice that sends a wave of guilt crashing.
“Asses in your seats,” I bark. Metal screeches as a hundred trainees scramble for chairs. Lilah relaxes, and I catch another flash of purple plastic. “Shiv whittlin’,” I mutter. We need to get her a real knife.
In a different life, I would’ve fallen for Orion harder than any of them.
Besides. You never did anything wrong.” “I…” My throat closes. You never did anything wrong. It’s just a phrase, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear it. From Orion, it’s magic. You never did anything wrong.
“We need to get you a stepladder. Or a ladder ladder.” My jaw drops. “Are you calling me short?” “You fit in my pocket.”
A few days ago, Orion was fantasizing about ripping out Lilah’s throat. I was scouting for a soft spot in the garden to bury her body.
His eyes are glassy as sapphires. Orion turns away, looking down, trying to hide, but the tear tracks on his cheeks are a knife to my gut. I don’t have to ask who hurt him. It’s always me. Always fucking me.
I open my mouth to say no, I’m working, and I’m not falling like that curl that falls over your forehead. What comes out is, “Should we make tomato soup?”
“Ten points if I hit a snake eye.” “A hundred points if you stop talking.” I shut up. Points can be exchanged for nachos.
My voice is a raspy thing I don’t recognize, like I have a side hustle narrating audiobooks so smutty I can’t even sell my shit on Amazon.
I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of never being enough. Never being chosen. Always being the one who’s thrown away. Even by my mates. My fated mates. Fate is fucking bullshit. I won’t chase anymore.
I can’t make it to the lake like this. Fucking hell. I’ll drown if I try to find relief there, and I don’t want to die, it just feels like maybe I should.
To my cabin in the woods, a new city, a new life. It doesn’t matter as long as I’m free. Another cramp wracks me so hard I bite my tongue. I taste blood. All I have to do is survive.
Finn crawls to her on his knees. He better get used to the position because we all need to fucking beg.
The scent of fresh-torched crème brûlée rewrites my fucking DNA. It’s not just the scent. It’s the sight of her. Lilah. My mate. She pulls into herself, shaking and pained, and her soundless scream is the worst sound I’ve ever heard. Second worst is Orion’s panicked breathing as he crumbles.
I fly the chopper so hard the engine screams. Pretty sure we could crash in a fireball and Finn would keep Lilah safe, even if he’s charred to Hades.
“I won’t leave her,” Orion insists, his weight shifting on the bed. His words ache in my chest. Lies.
