Page 12

“I’m Baby Doll. Jace is a good guy who’s gone out on a limb for every single one of us omegas.

” She picked up a piece of super crunchy bacon and took a bite, the pause going on and on.

“That’s what he does—he rides to the rescue, saving omegas left and right to try and assuage the guilt he feels about her. ”

“You don’t know that,” Ma blustered. “Every alpha needs an omega. You know that. Everyone knows that.”

“But not Jace,” Baby Doll replied, smiling before taking the time to lick her fingers. “And before you come at me, I’ll say one word.” Her smile was perfectly and utterly radiant. “Ella.”

Who the hell was Ella? Why did the mention of her make me feel a little queasy?

I glanced up and down the table, trying to read people’s expressions and not liking what I saw.

Empathy, discomfort, awkwardness, even dislike.

I’d experienced brush-offs and mean girl bullshit every damn day in the beta world, so why did it hit me so hard right now?

Being an omega wasn’t like being thin-skinned, it was like being no skinned.

Every response and reaction hit me physically, until all my muscles were tensed, ready to bolt.

You’re not safe here , my heart beat. Small, weak, prey. My eyes darted around the table, around the room, finding mocking expressions and escape routes, then a large clatter in the adjoining kitchen sealed my fate.

“What the hell have those silly boys done now?” Ma said, patting my hand and getting to her feet.

“Have something to eat, and I’ll be back in a tick.

And, you ladies…” She held out a finger, surveying each of the women that had arrived.

“Leave the poor girl alone. Jace did help you out, and it’s time to repay that favour by being kind to his lady. ”

Some girls blanched, obviously feeling ashamed of their earlier response, while others were mulish, arms crossed, backs jammed up against the seats.

“Sorry,” one said when Ma disappeared. “It’s just…

Jace has always avoided omegas. He keeps us safe, and the alphas in this place give us a mark.

” She held out her wrist, where I saw a small white scar.

“It’s not a mating mark. They don’t do it at the height of passion or anything.

It just indicates we belong…here, until we find our alpha.

” The lot of them shuffled at that, eyes flicking sideways, like a restive herd.

“It stops the other alphas from thinking they can just grab us and claim us, but…”

“Jace is a good guy,” Baby Doll said. “One of the best, but we’ve all been where you are right now.

You come floating downstairs like you’re walking on air, feeling like no one or nothing can change that.

” Then her face fell, and her expression was mirrored by the other women.

“And then you’re treated to the sight of someone else doing the exact same thing the next morning, and the next and the next. ”

Blondie’s eyes softened somewhat as she took in my clothes, my hair, and my jewellery.

“He won’t knot you, claim you, fill you with everything you need, and then sink his fangs deep into your skin, leaving his mark for everyone to see.

He doesn’t, and they don’t.” I stared at her doll-like perfection and finally started to see the cracks.

“They keep you at arm’s length, right when you need them the most. They ‘take care’ of you, finger you until you’re gasping, and then… ”

She shoved her wrist out, just like the other omega had.

“Nice, neat, surgical bites. Ones that say fuck off to other alphas, even the ones you might find happiness with. Claimed but not claimed, and left in a godawful limbo.” She shook her head, her eyes shining now suspiciously.

“You look like you come from money or something. Subtle pieces but expensive, will last you a lifetime.” She shook her head, as if dismissing that.

“Hustle on back to whatever world you came from, that’s all I can say, because down in the zone?

” Her eyes went wide and unseeing, because it wasn’t me she watched anymore.

“It can be dog eat dog, omega, and you’re the perfect damn bone, but the guy you want sees you as a convenient snack and not the main meal. ”

Of course this wasn’t real, that was what their words told me.

Everything I’d felt, the fucking surge of heat, passion, but most of all, satisfaction was a lie.

Last night, this morning, I’d finally, finally had enough.

No more packing away my misery, my pain, my fear, my needs.

He was there, he would see to them, all of them, and finally, I could…

This wasn’t real—none of it.

I was up and out of my seat, the other women making sounds in response, but I didn’t wait around to hear them out.

I was striding across the room, up to the door, opening it and finding myself back in the bar that was empty now, but for a beta barman.

Brown curly hair, medium blue eyes, the kind of face that could easily get lost in the crowd, he glanced up, then stared when he saw who it was

“I need to get out of here,” I said, slamming my hands down on the bar. “Out of the zone.”

“Out of… The gate is closed?—”

“Now,” I said, then grabbed the bag I hadn’t even remembered dragging downstairs and rifled through it, looking for my card, only to see my phone was nestled in there and ringing. “Hello?”

“Hey, babes!” Em replied with a deafening enthusiasm. “So by the neatly made-up bed in your room, I’m guessing someone was a dirty stop out last night! Jude, Jewel, and I are doing a sneaky Macca’s run to soak up all the bloody alcohol we drank and then we’re coming to get you!”

“Change of plan,” I replied tersely, staring at the freaked-out barman. “Meet me at the zone gate, ASAP.”

“Okay… Is everything all right? Sloane, did he…?”

“I’m fine, just ready to go home. Sex is great and all, but does it really compare to a single origin bean caramel latte from Alphonsino’s?”

It felt like I was putting old Sloane on like a mask, plastering beta competency and decisiveness over…what? What exactly was an omega? A quick kaleidoscope of moaning, whining, biting, slick splattering, knotting sex, hit me like a gut punch, but I just took a long breath in and charged on.

“OMG, Sloane! At least let me keep my illusions. This alpha I met last night, Ryder… Damn!”

“Tell me all about it when you get here, Em,” I replied, much more softly.

“Of course. Five minutes, Okay?”

I ended the call, the phone, the bag, the bar, all of it feeling weird, alien, and ill-fitting, but that would pass, I was sure of it. Hormones had rugby-tackled me for a night, made me say and do things I never would have and never would again. I just needed to get home.

“A fifty if you get me out of the zone gate in one piece within five minutes,” I offered, holding up the crisp note. The barman snatched it out of my hand, but not before he looked up and down the bar.

“Through here,” he said. “We’ll have to go down the alleyway. If any of the alphas catch scent of you… Here, spray yourself with this.”

He handed me a bottle of what looked like Febreze and smelled kinda the same—synthetic and flowery. I doused myself liberally before handing it back to the barman.

“Nah, you keep it, love. That’s the good stuff, and it’s hard to come by outside the zone.”

I shoved it into my bag. He nodded, then took me out the back, through the storeroom, and out into a stinking alley beyond. He clasped my hand, the size and strength stirring something inside me, but I pushed that brutally down. Not here, not yet.

No, not ever again.

Then he hauled me up the alleyway, fishing out a set of keys and holding them at the ready as he approached the fence.

It all felt ridiculously cloak-and-dagger. There was no one around, no one to even watch us pass, let alone wish us harm, but the barman acted like he was some kind of secret agent man, slinking low, eyes everywhere. I was prepared to go along with it, until finally, we reached the gate.

“Oi!”

A harsh voice had me jumping in my heels. A mass of huge men off a way had spotted us and were approaching at speed, the barman swearing under his breath as he worked the lock open, yanking the chain out from where it was wrapped around the gate.

“Go!” the barman said, shoving me through the gap, following hot on my heels, wrapping the chain around the gate twice as the men surged up, slamming into the fence.

Alphas.

This, this was the kind of men I’d seen doing the perp walk to the dock on TV, a poster boy for keeping the zone separate. Meaty fingers pushed through the links of the fence, others grabbing the gate and wrenching it, but the barman clicked the lock shut before stepping back, hands in the air.

“Omega…”

He pushed his way through the mass of men, a picture of deadly elegance, even for his size, the overdone musculature of an alpha somehow looking right for him. He was powerful, lethal even, as he stared at me with pale blue eyes, cold as ice, sweeping a fall of white blond hair out of his face.

“Open the gate, omega,” he said, his voice a perfect purr, rubbing itself allll over me, making my bones and my will soften. “Walk forward and take the keys from the quivering little beta prick and open the gate.”

“Yeah, lure her in, Snake,” a meaty-looking alpha said beside him, fairly slavering at the idea, and for a second, I was treated to a glare of pure unadulterated menace in Snake’s eyes.

“Back the fuck up, Snake,” the beta snarled, which jerked my eyes sideways. The average barman facade seemed to have been slipped off as he produced a gun, holding it upright while he viewed the men at the fence. “I can have Alpha Control down here in seconds.”

“She belongs here,” Snake shot back, then looked at me, dragging his breath theatrically through his nose. “She belongs to us.”