Page 2 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

Tully

Two Years Later

An omega shouldn’t venture into The Barracks alone, not if they valued their safety. But desperation drove me this morning.

A lone bulb lit the warehouse and cast shadows over the rust streaked gray walls. Dark, bubbled vinyl covered the floor, camouflaging the stains and sins painted there. I squeezed through a sliver in the crowd, and the smell of charred metal made my nostrils wrinkle.

Clay, with a jagged scar over his neck, winked from his booth and wriggled his fingers at me. The alpha teased me every time I visited.

“How is my cousin treating you?”

The mention of Fenella curdled the excitement bubbling in my stomach.

“Did you set me up to be her roommate, knowing she was a clean freak with a nasty streak?”

Clay’s blue eyes widened, and he covered a smile. “You can come be a slob at my house.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Clay Everett. Leave the little lamb alone,” Thorn hollered with amusement from his workstation.

Rough stalls, some larger than others, divided the warehouse. Each housed a thriving business. There was no rule, no sense of logic. A dried fish stall with hanging goods was next to a leather worker. A vendor selling spices was next to a man peddling computer chips.

“Aww, Thorn, how come you get to play and we don’t?” Clay winked again.

There was no heat in it. He leaned next to his cubicle, which sold music and advertised lessons. The only person I ever saw there was Puck, the young boy I hired to help me navigate The Barracks without getting lost.

“Because we go way back, even though it might not look like it. Don’t you have lessons this morning?”

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Clay whispered before raising his voice to reply. “You know Designated in The Barracks can’t spare money for piano, as much as I might want them to.”

“Lucky I pay your rent for you then, isn’t it? Freeloader.” Thorn swiveled from his computer and waved me over.

He’d cut his bleached blond hair to short bristles, and his smile showed no teeth.

He was an alpha who didn’t need the threat of them.

His athletic frame kicked out with ease, and a cigarette dangled from his fingers.

Underneath his plain black T-shirt, tattoos swirled up his wiry arms, neck, and even up the side of one cheek.

Vicious, twirling vines, heavy with sharp thorns.

“You’re no fun,” Clay grumbled. “Take care of yourself, Tully. There are Designated in The Barracks who aren’t as generous as Thorn here is.” The lean man snatched up a bag and trotted down the corridor.

“Bye, Clay.” I smothered a smile, knowing the comment pricked Thorn’s legendary leather skin. “You going to give me a discount?”

“No. That idiot might have a bleeding heart, but I don’t. You got my money?” Smoke swirled around his face, and he stubbed out his cigarette.

Thorn and I weren’t friends, more like warm acquaintances, and the warmth was one-sided.

My dad spent the first ten years of his life in The Barracks and was friends with Thorn’s grandparents.

My parents were dedicated to making this place a better place for the Designated who lived here.

This was back when the tensions between the Designated and humans were so heightened, the entire city was on alert.

I’d been a timid mess, and he’d taken pity on me.

Scents swirled in the room, an oppressive mix that coated my insides. I’d taken care to remove my own with scent wipes. But nothing could choke the fizz of freedom in my lungs. Today was a step toward a bright future.

“Not the full amount, just a down payment.”

Every cent I earned from Only Omega’s went toward the thick envelope I pulled out of my bag.

Payment for my ticket out of Starhaven.

“Thought you had no job?” Thorn tossed his buzzed head back and a wave of smoky tar hit me, with a metallic edge sliced through. An after note, like a freshly sharpened blade. “You in trouble, little lamb?”

The sharp tease in his tone made my nose sting with heat, but I couldn’t blame him. Some Designated were born with confidence in their veins, but I wasn’t one of them.

I shrugged to cover the tremble of my insides. This was a good day. I wasn’t going to dwell on my many shortcomings.

I lifted a shoulder. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

A burst of smoke spluttered from Thorn as he laughed. It ricocheted off the walls, and I cringed at the attention it brought. I pulled my hood over my head.

“Lamb, the list of things you can handle is frighteningly short. But you’re an adult, so I’ll spare you another lecture about running off to Astaly with your tail between your legs.

” Thorn took the padded envelope and thumbed through the cash.

“Timeline stands, but if I have any cancellations, I’ll bump you up. Astaly paperwork is a bitch to forge.”

“Thanks, Thorn, and I appreciate the lack of lecture.”

Thorn wasn’t one to judge. I didn’t have to second-guess his words or motives.

Thorn didn’t care about me, full stop, but it was nice not to feel used for my famous last name.

That wouldn’t be a problem soon. Thorn was forging my Astaly citizenship papers and organizing passage over the insular country’s border.

I knew little about what it was like. Except it was filled with Designated and no one knew the name Hartlock.

“Still think you’re making a mistake, but I won’t harp on about it.” Thorn pursed his lips. “Puck’s waiting outside. Give him this and tell him Thorn said to keep an extra eye on you.”

I let out a relieved sigh and took the cash Thorn offered.

“I’ll message you when it’s ready to pick up.” Thorn gave me his back, and I hurried out of the dim warehouse, ignoring the calls of vendors.

The solid door opened with a groan. Puck, a wiry ten-year-old with a foul mouth, kicked at an empty soda can.

“Thank you, for—” I started.

Puck let out a soft chuckle as a loud turn of the lock behind made me flinch.

“You’re jumpy today.”

“Didn’t sleep well.” I grimaced.

Fenella burst into the apartment in a rage yesterday, and I could barely make out the words of her vitriol-laced rant. She insisted I was late giving her my share of the rent, and nothing I said soothed her. She insisted the only way I could repay her was by letting her borrow my clothes.

“Bet you’ve got a proper mattress, though. I’m gonna have one of those someday. If I was rich, I’d get piano lessons from Clay as well.” Puck ran his hands along the wall, fingering the carved grooves. They were directions easily deciphered by those who lived here.

Puck was my guide, and the only reason I hadn’t gotten swallowed whole by The Barracks the first time I visited on my own.

There was a nuance to this place that came from living and breathing it since birth.

Underneath the towering apartment buildings was a rabbit warren of tunnels.

I paid Puck well to take me where I needed to go, and I knew Thorn tipped him for the same reason.

He wouldn’t have many clients if they ended up disappearing on their way to him.

“Is that what you’re saving up for?” I asked the young boy.

Coming to The Barracks pricked me in a way I couldn’t heal from.

It made me think about my parents. How they started and ended in this place.

It hadn’t healed after the terrorist attacks, and seeing the rough edges of this place contrasted against Puck’s relentless grit and positivity made me ashamed of my worries.

He scratched his messy ponytail and flashed a satisfied, gaping smile. “Oh yes, and a full-size fridge, full of soda.”

“And vegetables,” I teased.

His guarded gaze flitted to mine for a moment. Pity throbbed in my chest, but I kept that to myself, knowing it was worse. The humans ravaged this place and the council turned a blind eye, not caring enough to make it right.

"Gross." Puck sniffed.

There had been a time in my life when I thought I might make a difference, but that was long past. My fingers itched at the camera I kept in my bag.

A gift from my parents when I told them about the documentary series I wanted to make about their efforts in The Barracks community.

My dad was passionate about putting in the work for the place he grew up in.

The memory of the pride in their faces was like blisters, still swollen with pain. Shame scraped and scraped until it whittled my bones.

We entered into a popular partying spot. There was a row of clubs and music spilled from the neon entrance, as the party continued at nine in the morning.

“You can come to me if you need. I want you to know that.”

“I don’t need anyone,” Puck replied, his sneer deepening as someone stumbled out of the club.

I whipped my head in their direction. Watching the way the tall, wiry Designated dragged his hand down the wall in our direction.

“You’re not alone, Puck,” I said the words I wished I had been told.

Puck’s eyes widened, and his lips pressed together, sealing in his secrets. His frail shoulders bowed to avoid answering me. A cold sweat crawled down my spine. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. A useless omega who couldn’t even find her way out of this maze.

“Nobody’s ever alone in The Barracks.” Puck brushed off my comment. “Like this idiot.” Puck jerked his head toward the Designated as he stumbled toward us.

His blurred gaze brightened, and a sharp smile cut through the haze of his expression. The faintest scent wafted off him, sweet grape. It was powerful, despite the sweetness.

An alpha. I bounced on my toes, looking behind me.

“I didn’t think I was that drunk, but I’ve never hallucinated an angel before.” His hollow laugh bounced off the rust-stained walls.

I wrinkled my nose as his spirit-soaked breath hit me in the face.

A dark lock fell over his eyes, and he tossed his head back like a stallion.

With elegance, power and a liberal dusting of danger.

He wore a black tuxedo jacket with no shirt underneath.

The smooth line of his ribs rippled, peppered with tiny tattoos and glitter.

“Keep walking.” Puck slipped between us and the man laughed again.

The sound was thorns on a rose. Beautiful in a painful way. It stole inside me, and I plastered myself against the wall. I’d never had such a visceral reaction to another person before.

Not even Chase.

“Don’t make me go home alone, angel,” he coaxed with warm eyes. It curled in my stomach. He dragged his fingers down the plunging neckline of his jacket, over his skin. His sweat left a delicious sheen.

“You’re drunk,” I stated the obvious.

The man let out a whistle and shrugged. It was sheepish, playful, and I didn’t believe it one bit. This man was an alpha, even if his scent was sweet. He would take a bite of me and knowing my luck, it would be my heart he aimed for.

“What’s your name?” He tilted his head, and another shiver went down my spine.

The only sound was a drip from a cracked pipe.

He sighed. “You don’t want to tell me? Smart girl.”

“You going to introduce yourself?” I don’t know why, but I didn’t want our conversation to end just yet.

Maybe I was drunk myself on the prospect of adventure and freedom.

A thick layer of eyeliner coated his hazel eyes, and they gleamed. “Oh no.” He clicked his tongue. “An alpha needs to maintain some sense of mystery, especially when he’s being rebuffed.”

“Exit is that way.” Puck pointed down an alleyway I hadn’t seen before, but the man lingered.

He danced his painted black nails over his lower lip and I felt the touch under my skin.

“Bye, angel, come visit me again soon.” He winked and stumbled to where Puck pointed.

Puck nudged me with his elbow in the opposite direction.

“You sent him the wrong way, didn’t you?”

“Serves him right.” Puck spat to the side.

I trailed after Puck as he darted through the narrow tunnels. Past shops that were carved into little holes in the wall. It was always quiet this time of day, which was why I came in the morning. The Barracks at night would have been thick with people.

“Do you think they’ll ever clean that up?” I shuddered as we passed a partially collapsed building. Graffiti covered the broken slabs of concrete now, but it was a reminder of how dangerous the world could be.

“Doubt it. Those humans will never get back in, though. We know not to trust that anyone is coming to rescue us.”

I smothered a noise. My parents had tried.

Human Liberty Alliance, or HLA, targeted The Barracks three years ago.

They were human extremists who hated the existence of Designated.

They infiltrated the thick walls guarding the city and blocked off a section with Designated trapped inside.

My parents had been in thick negotiations with the human rebels.

The HLA wanted all Designated removed from land they believed belonged to humans, and they weren’t afraid to use force to make it happen.

“If I put you on the phone, they would be here in five minutes,” Puck continued.

Youth wasn’t soft on the boy, it was a jagged thing. A new blade, untried, but sharp.

I tasted iron in the back of my throat.

“Nobody would listen to me, Puck. No matter how I tried.”

Puck darted ahead, tossing back looks to make sure I followed.

I waded through the strange hurt. My parents would have told me to stop wallowing and get stuck in with helping.

To use who I was for good. But I’d already given up on the dreams they had for me, especially now I was fleeing the city for good.

The camera bounced in the bottom of my bag, unused since my parents died.

I thought I could change the world, like Esta Hartlock once did. But there was no secret power that came from being a Hartlock omega, only the weight of failed expectations.

I breathed in the scent of The Barracks, the pervasive scent of disrepair. Much like my insides.

Someone could keep this city safe, but it wouldn’t be me.