Page 3 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

Tully

Fenella barreled toward me and some of my herbal tea sloshed over the rim as she jammed her finger into my chest.

Thank gods for my threadbare robe. If she saw what I wore underneath, it would only raise questions. I’d showered off the lingering scent of The Barracks earlier today, but not the disturbing emotions that the visit stirred up.

I was like muck in a pond clouding the surface.

Maybe that’s why I kept thinking about dark-lined hazel eyes, and a smile too dangerous to enjoy.

“Where is that leather jacket you were wearing yesterday?” She raked her bright green eyes over me, staring down her nose.

The form-fitting gray dress, which highlighted her striking red bob, was designer. My elbows poked through my worn nightgown, so useless against the cold, I had wrapped a scarf around my neck in a careless knot.

She was elegant, and I was… a mess. Classic Tully Hartlock.

I tugged my scarf tighter. I didn’t realize the cold had teeth until my parents died. They weren’t warm parents, but at least they could afford heating. Now they were both gone. My parents and the money.

“I’m just getting some tea.” I proffered the mug. Idiot . Like she couldn’t see that herself. “Besides, it’s dirty.” And drenched in my scent.

Fenella shivered, as if she didn’t realize how cold it was. She refused to let me use the heating during the day. Did she want to freeze me into submission? If I wasn’t so desperate for somewhere to stay, I would never have taken Clay’s offer.

I’d rather my fingers fall off than find refuge at The Omega Center. The second I walked through that door, my hard-fought anonymity would be lost. I hoped Thorn finished my paperwork soon, so I could finally leave this city.

“Oh gods, that doesn’t matter,” Fenella snapped. “Hurry up, I’ve got a date and I’m late.”

Perhaps it didn’t. Her beta nose was less sensitive to scents, not like mine was.

My mother was the same. She walked blithely through a crowd, while I had to cover my nose.

“Y-you’re not doing anything…” I retrieved the jacket and passed it over with a frown.

“Careful, Tully.” Her gaze narrowed. “I’m doing you a favor, and I don’t enjoy being accused of things.”

I flattened my lips and let her go in silence.

I didn’t want to start another argument with Fenella.

She was difficult to live with, and her compassion had an expiry date, which soured the minute Clay left us alone.

But why did she insist on borrowing my clothes?

Especially when she complained about how unsophisticated my style was.

Fenella gained perverse satisfaction in bringing me down.

If she was scent stealing, it wouldn’t end well for her. Especially when I didn’t plan on being here for much longer. I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to find work, and my nest egg dwindled at an alarming rate.

For such a rundown apartment, the rent was staggeringly high.

“Make sure the kitchen is clean by the time I get back, and I have a hamper full of fresh laundry that needs folding.” Fenella arched an eyebrow as she swiped her bag off the counter. As her key turned in the lock, my limbs loosened with relief.

After I was sure Fenella truly left, I stripped off my bathrobe. Fenella might insist on managing the heat, but I mitigated it by having scorching hot showers three times a day. She hadn’t worked it out yet, blaming the landlord for the exorbitant water bill.

I dragged off the scarf covering my white blonde hair. Paired with my eyes like ice shards of the lightest blue, it made my Hartlock heritage obvious to anyone who paid attention in history class.

I pulled down the box that hid my collection of lingerie.

A strappy black number called to me. I was determined to earn extra tips, if only to spite Fenella. A flutter of butterflies rioted in my stomach as I opened my Only Omegas account on my phone. I was in the top three percent again and was on my way to hitting a record earning this month.

One step closer to my twenty-five-thousand-dollar goal.

A pile of clothes spilled onto the floor and I pressed the heap back with a slight grimace.

One day I would tidy properly, but I couldn’t face the prospect today.

That would mean accepting this apartment was my home.

The setting winter sun illuminated my creaky single bed and faded purple bedspread left by Fenella’s previous roommate.

When Fenella had given me the tour, she’d encouraged me to decorate. I stared at the unmarked walls, the nondescript beige lamp with its dusty base. The bleakness of the past few years had stolen my urge to nest completely. It had filtered down to every aspect of my life, including my wardrobe.

I used to reach for pink, lace, and sparkles. High heels, glittering hair barrettes, and bangles that chimed my arrival.

My parents called it attention-seeking behavior. I guess I proved them right, not in the way they expected, though.

The apartment was several floors up, so only the clear, cold sky saw me in the skimpy outfit. I adjusted my phone and my notifications pinged. A smile crept across my face when I saw the one I was waiting for.

Alphareadyorknot.

He was a customer. I tried to remind myself, but my fingers trembled as I replied to him.

We’d been speaking daily since I started my account.

Alphareadyorknot or Lloyd started off like all the rest of my fans, liking my photos and videos.

He joined my subscription and paid a regular monthly fee, as well as extra for me to do requests.

I rarely accepted those. My parents’ voice jabbed through my thoughts like a needle.

Berating me for sullying the Hartlock name.

Sorry, Mom and Dad, but your little girl had to grow up, and guess what? Bills cost money.

My parents raised me to never rely on anyone else. Bitterness hit the back of my throat. You can only be rebuffed so many times before you realize it is safer to keep your problems to yourself.

I stretched my arms over my head and banished the invisible strings of shame that tied me. Scores of followers were hungry for more of what I could give them. I tucked my signature silvery locks into a bun. My face remained hidden in my content, but I also didn’t want to take any chances.

For the next few hours, something luscious swept through my body as I turned, cupped, and fondled myself for the lens. I dragged down the lacy cup of my bra and bared my pink nipples. My bottom teeth dug into the soft cushion of my lower lip.

Adrenaline surged as I became Tahlia. Not Tully, the disappointing Hartlock omega.

Remember when you wanted to use your camera to make documentaries?

My inner voice sneered, and I stopped to take a sharp breath.

I’d been sheltered and idealistic when I had those dreams. The real world didn’t care about hopes. I’d shed the lingerie and returned to my baggy nightgown when my notifications pinged from Lloyd again, and with a personal request. A bolt of shock charred my spine.

He wanted to video call me.

My fingers hovered in the air.

The money he offered was… obscene. Three hundred dollars for a fifteen-minute call? It would go a long way to my tally. I bit my lip and spun the bracelet on my hand.

WWED . What Would Esta Do?

I had great hopes of being just as revolutionary as she was.

Reality wrung ambition from my veins. A harsh slap in the face of my naivety. Esta might have been a heroine, but I was just trying to get through the day. This bracelet didn’t inspire me. It reminded me that not all that glitters is gold, and Esta might have found treasure, but I wasn’t as lucky.

I replied to Lloyd with my acceptance and a reminder that I wouldn’t show my face. I quickly changed back into my lingerie set. Oddly vulnerable, even though I was alone.

Within seconds, his call came through, and I swallowed a wave of nausea before I answered. My heart crashed against my ribcage as Lloyd filled the screen.

The last thing I expected was a young man, golden and tanned like a surfer god.

Lloyd reclined on a navy checked bedspread propped up by a pile of fluffy cushions and pillows.

His tousled golden curls and chiseled features sparked an ember of heat in my stomach.

Lloyd scrubbed at his stubbled jaw as his cheeks flushed pink through the golden tan.

There was warm curiosity in his blue-green gaze.

“Hello? T-Tahlia?” He leaned forward and rumpled his beige suit.

The crisp white shirt and navy tie added to the effortless sophistication.

He belonged on a yacht, maybe like the one my former best friend, Seph, owned.

But the way he bunched his shoulders and played with the matching pocket square, it seemed like the clothes wore him rather than the other way around.

For a brief second, I wished I could hear him say my real name, not the fake one I used for my profile. It sounded wrong on his shapely lips.

“Hi Lloyd.” I winced, regretting I didn’t put on a more feminine tone or practice a flirty line.

I knew he couldn’t see my face, and I was glad of it as heat flooded my cheeks.

Three hundred dollars. One step closer to my freedom.

It didn’t matter what he thought about the person I was, my body was the real reason he was calling. That was the stark reality of this situation.

I arched my back, making sure he got a good view of my full breasts. They were perky as fuck, thanks to the magic of push-up bras.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurted out.

I laughed at the slack, shocked expression he wore. Did he think I’d been faking as well? His reaction warmed a secret part of me that the boot of a lesser man crushed. My hand fidgeted with my bedspread, cheaper than his.

His breathing intensified.

Now what ?

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me in something else? Something less?” I teased, expecting him to ask me to undress now that I’d blown past pleasantries. Lloyd shook his head, golden curls falling over his forehead. He swept them back with a shuddered sigh.