Page 1 of His Snowbound Omega
Chapter 1:
Thorn Winters was freezing. Already.
He cupped his hands and blew into them, shifting closer to one of the dozen or so space heaters that had been set beneath the large forest green tent. Omegas crowded around them, desperate for a small slice of comfort in an otherwise bleak situation.
It wasn’t just the dropping temperatures or the fact they’d soon be running through the snow like frightened rabbits that had tensions high.
From the outskirts of his line of sight, Thorn couldsensethem there. The real cause for alarm. The true reason everyone around him was stiff and silent and afraid.
Alphas.
Not just any alphas. Mafia.
Never in a million years would Thorn have guessed he’d end up here, involved with one of the planet's largest criminal organizations, and yet he stood amongst the rest of the prey all the same. Freezing his ass off, waiting for the clock to tick down and for the White Hunt to begin.
A twisted take on a cultural—and officially sanctioned—event, the White Hunt made a mockery of all things good in their society. It set them back decades, if not centuries, as far as equal rights were concerned, and it lacked all the precautions and safety measures the true Wild Hunt provided its participants.
But then, only a fool would expect fairness from the White Frost Mafia.
Everyone knew what they were, behind the shiny veneer, the pressed suits and ties. As the largest moneylender on the planet Synastry, they were well known and dealt with clientele ranging from the poor to the wealthy. From the pitiful to the greedy.
Perhaps Thorn’s father had landed somewhere in the middle. Pitiful, because he’d obviously taken the money to pay off his child’s hospital bills.
Greedy, because he’d done so knowing full well there was no way for him to pay it back.
And now Thorn was the one who would suffer the consequences.
Things had already been difficult for him before Jack Winters was discovered dead behind the local pub, half frozen, surrounded by a dozen empty bottles. For years, they’d barely kept themselves afloat, his little brother’s rare pheromone disorder keeping him hospitalized and the bills coming. Their mother, unable to take the pressure, had fled as soon as the illness had been discovered, leaving them to fend for themselves.
With their father gone too, that left just Thorn, Aster, and the mountain of debt neither had been aware of. Theyhadn’t even had the chance to properly mourn before the White Frost had barged into their lives, crashing the funeral with paperwork signed by Jack. In a moment of weakness, or possibly desperation, he’d borrowed a sum of thirty thousand coin.
Thorn didn’t even make a fraction of that working the three part-time jobs that’d been willing to hire him without a college degree. There was no chance of him ever paying it off himself, and he’d been drowning under the weight of reality for days.
Until the letter arrived.
Receiving an invitation to the White Hunt was either a blessing or a curse, he’d yet to find out. The event was said to take place every year, and acted as a Yuletide gift from the White Frost Mafia’s Dominus, Leviathan Morningstar. The guest list was created from the list of borrowers who owed them money, and only omegas were eligible to attend.
The invitation had been made to look like a regular holiday card, but inside, there’d been a detailed description of the event written alongside the time and location.
The White Hunt was just as it sounded, a mock version of the Wild Hunt, with none of the added protections the Imperial-sanctioned event promised. In an attempt to solve the planet's dwindling birthrate problem, the rules of the Wild Hunt had been stripped back more and more each year.
The official event welcomed participants from every sex—first and secondary—alpha, omega, and even beta, though there were no betas born on Synastry. Participants could choose if they wanted to be the one hunting or if they wanted to be hunted, and it was basically a free-for-all, with the understanding that joining meant legally allowing yourself to be overpowered and taken.
Thorn had never joined, not once, and now…
The White Hunt would be more dangerous, more calculated. This wasn’t a game created to protect their species, it was one of pure sport. Only omegas were allowed to attend, and they had one rule and one rule only.
Run.
If they made it to one of the cabins hidden within the forest on the mountain range before morning, their debt would be wiped clean. Fully forgiven. Just like that. But in order to do it, they’d have to brave the cold, the snow-covered terrain, and the alphas who would be ruthlessly hunting them.
All evening Thorn had tried—and failed—to block out the whispers from other participants, ones who spoke of past friends or family who’d joined and gotten caught. If the stories were to be believed, not everyone made it out of this fully intact. Some were maimed, others killed…It was harrowing.
If not for Aster, Thorn might have tried his luck. Might have attempted to slip past the guards currently patrolling the entrance. It wasn’t like he stood a chance against any of them, but even if he had…What would escaping this change?
This was his only hope. Instead of whining, he should be grateful he’d been born a coveted omega in the first place and given this opportunity. Born on Synastry, Thorn was used to the classism and the sexism. Used to being stared at like a slab of meat, fresh for the taking. Laws had kept him safe enough, but now that he’d fallen this low, he doubted anyone would come to his defense if he had the misfortune of meeting a powerful enough alpha.
Love and romance weren’t in the cards for him. He’d accepted that. Hell, his boyfriend of three years had even dumped him the second after the representative for the White Frost had left his father’s funeral. No one wanted to be with a liability.