Page 1 of Bewitched
L ayla Nash dipped her head, hiding behind her waves of red hair, and tried not to look directly at anyone in the tiny cafe. Unease trickled across her nerves, making her shiver. There were too many people, too many alphas. She could smell them: musk, sawdust, pine, grass, rain, leather, and fire.
She tugged on her sweater, ensuring the sleeves covered the scent glands at her wrists and the high collar covered the ones at her neck. The glands were a little swollen and painful. It always happened before she menstruated. Not that she was supposed to cycle so soon. Her suppressants were supposed to delay ovulation for another three months, but it wasn’t the first time she’d bled out of cycle. It was just another inconvenience that came with being what she was.
She tried to keep an eye on the door, but an alpha kept trying to catch her eye. Layla turned to the newspaper that the previous occupant had left on her table. Layla’s stomach churned unpleasantly at the headline.
2,000 Omegas Stolen Every Year
According to recent reporting from the Center for Omega Research, approximately 15% of all omega matings are a result of bride stealing. Under the historic laws governing bride stealing, alphas steal more than two thousand omegas from their families around the country every year. Widely seen as a barbaric custom, bride stealing is only practiced by a few alphas who claim it is a biological imperative to find an omega mate. While laws against kidnapping have been used to prosecute alphas stealing beta mates, there has been little headway in outlawing omega kidnappings. The most widely reported instance within the last thirty years was Omega Summer Nash, heiress to Nash Realties, stolen by fashion designer Alpha Perrin Iverson. The sudden death of Summer Nash, under still undisclosed circumstances, followed quickly by the death of Perrin Iverson in an alpha duel, further complicated the lawsuits between the families.
Layla grimaced. Reporters couldn’t wait to offer their opinions on what happened to her aunt all those years ago. She knew exactly what happened to her Aunt Summer. Perrin Iverson had admitted to killing her just before his alpha duel to the death. It was the story told around the dinner table often enough, even when her mother told Uncle Bryson to shut up about it. Murder wasn’t proper dinner conversation.
An extra-large caffeinated monstrosity dropped in front of her, and Mina slid into the chair on the other side of the table. Layla blinked at her. She hadn’t even noticed her sister walk in.
Mina was actually dressed appropriately for once. Dark hair pulled back in a neat bun and dressed in a black suit, no tie. It wasn’t something Mina would choose, but it was the uniform. She looked nice. Presentable. A real job was good for her. An alpha without a purpose was a dangerous alpha, and Mina had always been a little dangerous.
Mina pulled the paper out from under her hands and flipped it around. Rude. She was still reading that. “Ugh. How many sentences before they start talking about us?”
“Three.”
“Do they mention Roan?”
Layla bristled. “I didn’t get that far.”
“Assholes,” she grumbled and glanced up. Her eyes narrowed on Layla. “You shouldn’t read this stuff. It’s just going to stress you out for no reason.”
She tensed. She may have an omega designation, but that didn’t matter. With her hormone suppressants and regulators, she was practically a beta, just like her mother. No heats. No flirting. No weird neediness. No driving a wedge between happily married couples. It was like she wasn’t an omega at all. “I’m not stressed. Why would this have anything to do with me? I’m not a… I don’t count.”
Mina took a sip of her own iced black coffee as she stared across the table, her expression a little off.
“What?” Layla asked.
“You stink.”
Layla gave Mina her best glare because that was unnecessary and rude.
Mina shrugged and popped a sliver of ice into her mouth. “You do. Are your suppressants working?”
Layla sputtered and glanced around for eavesdroppers, shame flushing her pale cheeks. “You-you’re not supposed to ask about that.”
“Nuh-uh, alphas can ask whatever they want.” Mina glared at someone on the other side of the cafe. She was too small to be truly intimidating, but that only made her stabby instead.
Mina Nash tended to bite first and ask questions later. Layla had seen it firsthand—several times. She had even attacked Layla’s ex-boyfriend, a beta boy that they had known for years, and Layla had dated for exactly two weeks before it ended in his tears after Mina bit him. Her sister hadn’t even asked what Ryan did to cause their initial argument; she just ran in and chomped his arm.
No one had taken his side either. Alphas were impossible when they thought they were defending an omega. Impossible and downright presumptuous.
“Rude alphas,” Layla corrected. They shouldn’t be talking about her suppressants here. They shouldn’t be talking about it anywhere. It was private and embarrassing. Being an omega was her deepest shame, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. “Do you talk like this to Clover?”
Mina scoffed. “He’s a beta. He likes it when I’m rude.”
Layla shook her head primly. She always tried to get Mina to act more like a lady, like a beta. It never took.
“Well, you still stink like rotten apples. You could make cider out of your pheromones.”
Layla closed her eyes and pretended she was somewhere else. Did Mina have to say the worst things in public? Alphas had no concept of shame, especially at the expense of an omega. “Please, stop.”
“I’m just saying if I can smell your pheromones, then that dude giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes can smell you too.”
Layla glanced behind her, and sure enough, a big blond alpha was smiling at her. Unease settled over her skin like a blanket. She didn’t like alphas. The way they made her feel when they stood too close. Like they could break her. Or the way they talked about omegas like they were slices of meat.
The only tolerable alphas were her father and Mina, and Mina was only barely tolerable.
She shook her head at the alpha and turned away before he could scowl. That was another annoying tidbit of being an omega, the constant need to impress alphas—to never disappoint. She got enough of that from her own mother. She didn’t need it from strangers.
Mina leaned forward, tapping her fingers against the tabletop, bringing the scent of blood, charcoal, pine, and cinnamon to Layla’s nose. Too strong. Layla put her hand over her nose.
Mina usually smelled of blood and charcoal — terrifying scents if it wasn’t the essence of her little sister. The pine and cinnamon were other alphas. Mina was always around other alphas, bringing their scents along wherever she went. It came with the job. She worked security for Sorreto International as CEO Damian Sorreto’s personal guard dog. There were more alphas in that company than there were in any other in the city. It was an often-quoted statistic.
Layla rarely noticed. She absently scratched her wrist. “Maybe something is wrong with my suppressants.”
Mina nodded. “I’m telling you. It’s creeping me out.”
Rude and embarrassing. “Thanks.”
Mina eyed the alpha in the corner again. “I’m going to kick his ass.”
“Let’s just go,” Layla said. She needed to get out of there, to somewhere she wasn’t being watched by half a dozen alphas who wanted to flirt with her just because of her designation. “I’ll stop by the campus Medcenter and see if they can do anything.”
Her sister nodded once, looking her over in that superior way that always annoyed her.
“You can’t tell Mom,” Layla said. Shera would have a fit if something were off about Layla’s medication. She’d spent too much time and money on ensuring Layla could live a life free from omega faults and vices. She’d never be like Summer or Roan or the omegas in the gossip columns.
“I’m not telling Mom shit, just get checked out,” Mina ordered.
Layla bristled. It wasn’t a Command, but it annoyed her anyway. Commands, compulsions that alphas used to control omegas, had been outlawed for centuries because they took away an omega’s will. Commands were impossible to disobey, even when they could kill the omega it was used on. Layla had never had one used on her, and as long as she stayed far from alphas, there was no risk of it ever happening.
Mina chugged her coffee down to the ice and tossed her empty cup into the trash. She bared her teeth at the staring alpha and grabbed Layla’s arm, smearing her scent all along her nice sweater.
Layla looked at the floor and tried to pretend this aggressive display of alpha stupidity wasn’t happening to her.
She knew what happened when alphas clashed. People died, and the law would do nothing about it. It was instinct. Alphas were monsters that could get away with anything.
It wasn’t fun teasing. There were real consequences.
“Mina, stop,” she snapped and finally pulled away from her sister, reaching the safety of sunlight and open air outside the cafe.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she’d skip the Medcenter and just go to her dorm to sleep. She could crawl under her bed and rest in the small, pressing enclosure. She liked the dark spaces under beds and in the corners of closets. It felt protective and homey. She could shut out all the terrible things in the world and just be.
It wasn’t like an omega nest at all. Nests were fluffy and warm, made from blankets and pillows that smelled like family. She never had one of those. She never needed one. She didn’t count as an omega.
“About damn time,” a deep voice snapped behind her.
Layla winced and whirled around to see Jaxon Harlow leaning against the building. He was older than her by at least a decade and tall, well over six feet, broad, and muscled. He wore a tailored suit similar to Mina’s—till no tie. Tattoos peeked out from under his sleeves and above the collar of his shirt. Deep riveted scars stood out on the left side of his face. One deep line bisected his eyebrow and cut into his nose. His hair was dark and shot with gray, cut short to show off the lines of mangled flesh that curved around his skull. It didn’t make him look handsome or distinguished. It only made him look dangerous.
He was one of the infamous Harlow brothers. Jaxon and Axel were notorious among the city’s elite as alphas and bodyguards. Axel was unbeatable in a fight, and Jaxon was nearly as invincible. Jaxon had remained unmated and unmarried, though Axel had a string of very public matings with upper-class omegas. In the end, he always cruelly dissolved their bonds, ripping apart the physical and mental connection between them.
Layla had known both of them since she was a child, and her opinion had remained unchanged. They were disgusting and terrifying, Jaxon especially. He was a dominant alpha: commanding, temperamental, arrogant. He was the one that smelled like cinnamon.
Mina stepped out onto the sidewalk. “What now? I’m on lunch.”
Jaxon stared at Layla, his eyes dark and intense. Unnerving.
She held his gaze for a moment and looked away, a clear sign of submission. She hated herself a little for giving in.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he spoke to Mina; she could feel it. “Damian wants you at the Wayland meeting in case Korin gets ideas.”
Mina groaned. “Yeah, alright, no bloodshed after Labor Day.”
Layla blinked. “Bloodshed at a business meeting? What kind of meeting are they having?”
“You’d be surprised,” Mina said.
“Acquisitions,” Jaxon said. His scarred hand twirled a cigarette over his fingers. “Wayland wants to buy the bay overlook building.”
“Fuck,” her sister snarled. “That really is going to turn into a shitshow. Can you give Layla a ride back to campus?”
Her gaze snapped to her sister. “I can walk!”
Mina made a disgusted face and looked her up and down. “Not like that, you’re not.”
Layla turned her back on Jaxon and leaned closer to Mina. “It’s just my period,” she whispered harshly. She didn’t need an escort home. She was perfectly capable—
“I don’t care,” Mina said. “He’s driving you home.”
Jaxon scrolled through his phone like he wasn’t listening to everything they said. “We going?”
“Mina,” Layla whispered frantically. She didn’t want to go anywhere alone with him. Even if he wasn’t an alpha. Jaxon Harlow was just plain frightening.
Mina ignored her. “She gets home safe, or I will fucking eat you.”
“Mina!” She was so embarrassing.
Jaxon waved his hand and reached for Layla’s elbow, his hand warm around her arm. “Aye. Come on, kitten. I don’t get paid for ferrying omegas around.”
Layla stared after Mina with wide eyes even as Jaxon tugged her away. She was mortified at being treated like a child.
“I can take the bus.”
Jaxon loomed over her and shook his head. “You not hear your bitch of a sister? I’m not keen on knowing if she’s actually a cannibal.”
She glanced up at him, but she couldn’t hold his gaze. The taste of cinnamon made the roof of her mouth burn. It made her nervous, her body doing something without her permission. She wasn’t supposed to be affected. Pheromones weren’t supposed to work on her.
He tugged on her again but released her as she started to walk. He kept a hand near the small of her back. Her spine tingled.
Jaxon was silent for a moment as they weaved their way through the lunch crowd. She knew he was never one to keep quiet for long. “Flaunting it a little, aren’t you, omega?”
Fear and shame rushed down her spine. Alphas always assumed that every omega was in search of one thing — a mate — to be bitten and married and pupped in short order, even if that meant using their assets against unsuspecting alphas. She balled her hands into fists. “No.”
He sneered. “No? So you’re not two days away from rolling around in heat, little omega?”
Layla cringed and turned on him. “Don’t call me that! I’m not a whore!” she yelled. “My name is Layla. You know that. I’m not some omega hole you can’t even remember the name of. I’m not one of you or your brother’s conquests—”
Jaxon grabbed her arm and shoved her into the brick facade outside a boutique. She gasped and pressed herself into the wall. He leaned over her, his massive frame shielding her away from curious onlookers.
He wore the same glare he had the first time they met, the one that made her scream and sob and break her young heart. He hated her.
His huge hand pressed against the wall beside her head. “Don’t go comparing me to my brother. I didn’t call you a whore. I called you an omega — exactly what you are. A ripe one at that. You shouldn’t be out in public.”
Her stomach plummeted, and her lip trembled. She wasn’t going to cry here, in front of everyone, not just because Jaxon Harlow was mean and handsy.
“If people called you omega more, maybe it would get that stick out of your ass, and you’d remember you’re not a beta. You’d be less of a neurotic priss.”
Layla tried to glare, but it didn’t have much force with tears blinding her vision.
He grinned, smile tugging on his scars. “You can call me Alpha. I promise I’ll like it.”
Layla wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the sidewalk. Of course, he liked to be called Alpha. His designation didn’t constantly remind him that he was lesser. Alphas were big and mean and took what they wanted. Omegas were weak and helpless and slaves to their libidos. Worthless except to give alphas something to fuck. Homewreckers. That’s what her mother called them. Layla could never be one of those. She wouldn’t allow it.
He leaned closer, his breath against her ear. His knuckles touched her stomach just below her ribs. “Come on, say Alpha. Even little beta-wannabes can say Alpha.”
She trembled. He really was the worst alpha. Layla shook her head.
He dipped lower, nose close to her neck, scenting her. Inappropriate. Scandalous. If her mother caught her like this, she’d be ruined.
Her tummy tingled unpleasantly under his hand, and she felt a sudden uncomfortable wetness in her underwear.
Jaxon chuckled and backed away. “Good enough.”
Layla pressed her legs together, utterly mortified.
“Come on, kitten. Back to your nest,” he said as he walked away, whatever he had wanted from her finally accomplished.
Layla reluctantly followed him to his truck. He didn’t touch her again as she got in and stayed as close to the passenger door as possible. The whole cab smelled like angry alpha.
She rolled the window down.
Jaxon slid into the driver’s seat and only glared at her once. “Where are we going, kitten? You got class? Dorms? My apartment?”
Layla tried her best to glare. “Do you know where the campus Medcenter is?”
“Aye.” He poked an address into the GPS. “But you are way past helping, omega. Might want to think about shacking up with one of your alpha buddies or a nice big dildo.”
Layla’s cheeks burned. “It really is none of your business.”
“It is when I have to smell it,” he snarled.
She leaned away from him, and he pulled out into traffic. The only saving grace was that he was silent the whole way to campus.