Page 2 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus (The Exchange)

Chapter Two

Murphy

My back faces the room as I stare out the open door. The North Carolina mountains hold my attention better than whatever business my packmates are busy chatting about. The wind is biting as it laps at my face, but I don't mind.

"Are you listening?" Connor Hastings asks. My packmate sounds frustrated, which isn't unusual. He hates his job. Running a destination getaway for omegas in need sounds better than the reality of it.

I give him a grunt of acknowledgement and close the door. I toss myself down on my oversized chair. I love this chair. I'm a big guy, so the rest of our furniture feels like it was made for dolls or kids. Sure my chair gives a creak as I stretch back, but I know from experience it'll hold.

Connor huffs, swiping his black hair away from his face. He's not even thirty-three, but this job has aged him.

I wave a hand to tell him to get on with it. Kicking my giant boots up on my ottoman, I ignore the glare Archer Daniels sends my way.

Archie thinks it's uncouth to put shoes on the furniture, but he can get over it. This is my ottoman. I bought the damn thing because it was one of the few pieces of furniture that can successfully hold my big ass.

"We've had several offers," Connor says, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa. "I've spoken to my family, and they're in agreement that it's ultimately our choice. None of them has any financial stake in the lodge. Not anymore."

My jaw drops. Glancing at Archie, I see the same reflected back at me. Sure, Connor has complained at an increasing rate every year, but I never thought he'd actually consider selling the lodge.

We're a full-service getaway in the mountains offering skiing and snowboarding in the winter, and kayaking, hiking, and a bunch of other activities in the spring and summer. But I know that's not the side of the business Connor is desperate to get away from.

The opposite side of the lodge is The Omega Exchange. That's the portion of the business my packmate has come to loathe.

"You're seriously considering selling?" Archie asks. He adjusts the sleeves of his button-down shirt, frowning at Connor.

"I wasn't actively advertising," Connor says.

I don't like the sound of this one bit. The Exchange is only a small part of the business as a whole, but it's the piece that gives me hope.

In my early twenties, the prospect of commitment scared the hell out of me. Later into my twenties, it intrigued me. Now that I'm well into my thirties, I'm fucking desperate for it.

Give me bonds and promises of a future. I yearn for all of it in a way that's difficult to explain.

Women look at me and think one of two things. A huge number are afraid of my size and want nothing to do with me. The remaining few view my size as a challenge. It's something they'd like to conquer, but the one thing both types have in common? Neither take the time to get to know the real me.

None of them want to be bonded to the giant, feral-looking alpha.

"No," Archie says, looking at me. "I'm not interested in selling. We haven't even found our omega yet! What would we do? Sign up with the OPA?"

The Omega Protection Authority is run by the government and it's highly regulated. It's also as corrupt an organization as you'll find. Alphas pay to be matched. Omegas have a choice, and pick their mates based on scent cards, but I don't much trust it.

Private companies have popped up, offering alternatives to the government-run program. The Omega Exchange is one such choice.

"If the ski lodge wasn't picking up the slack, we'd be in the hole for the third year in a row," Connor says, raising his dark eyebrows. "Without that side of the business we'd be losing money. You do understand that, right?"

"Somethings aren't about money," I tell him, swiping a palm over my face. My eyebrows rise, and I shoot him a meaningful look. He knows what I'm saying. The Exchange isn't about making money. It's about giving omegas a safe option outside the OPA.

"Go back to the way things used to be," Archie interjects. "You're the one who imposed the limits on the program. When your dads ran the place they never turned anyone away."

And they made plenty of money, that's the part Archie leaves unsaid.

Connor jumps to his feet and starts pacing. "You don't think I know that?" he asks, running his hand through his hair. "Look what it became because of that policy. It's a hook-up spot for spoiled omegas to find wealthy packs."

Neither of us speaks. He's right about that.

The original idea was sound. It started as a way to give omegas in a dangerous situation a chance to escape to somewhere they'd be safe. Or at the very least it was meant to give packs a chance to find a scent match outside their geographical region.

In the last ten years or so, the system has become corrupted. Not to the level of the OPA, where packs can pay a higher price for a chance to pick and choose the traits they want in an omega. But our system isn't perfect, either.

"Your dads saved your step-mom from a bad situation, and this place brought them together," Archie says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"You're only seeing the negatives. You won't even consider all the good we do.

Sure, we get a few a month that are here to find the wealthiest pack they can, but a huge number of omegas are here for love or safety.

You never even bother to come down and meet them anymore. "

"Because they aren't worth meeting," Connor growls. Spinning around, he paces back the other direction. "Am I continually meant to get my hopes up? To read all their files, hoping to find the ones truly in need, only to meet them and realize we've been played the fool again?"

"A small percentage of people will always play any system," Archie says with a sigh. "It doesn't change the fact that we offer a service those omegas need. The OPA might offer security on the first meeting, but once courting starts the omega is on their own." He looks at me. "Back me up here."

Now it's my turn to sigh. I run security for the entire lodge, it's my domain. "He's right. We're a much safer choice, especially for omegas who've had a bad experience in the past."

All omegas have a full-time guard if they're unbonded.

They can choose to keep their security for the entire courting process if they're uncomfortable, or even if they need extra reassurance that they're the one who's really in charge.

The omegas run the show around here. Which is absolutely the way it's supposed to go.

"Neither of you are willing to sell?" Connor asks. He looks so damn defeated my stomach churns uncomfortably.

"Why don't you take a few weeks off?" Archie offers. "I can take over. Eileen can help. I think we all know that woman could run this place on her own."

Connor and Archer's secretary, Eileen, is more than capable of running the entire lodge. She's been here since Connor's dads opened this location of The Omega Exchange. She's a hard-ass who takes no bullshit.

"No," Connor says, swiping a hand over his face. "I'll lose my mind if I'm not working."

Archie brushes his long blond hair back from his forehead. He stands, walking over and offering our packmate a hug. "The offer stands. Don't burn yourself out, mate." His Scottish accent causes his words to roll together.

Archie turns and saunters off toward his room.

Connor sighs. His head tips back, and he stares at the ceiling. "I want a family," he grumbles. "A life outside of making matches for spoiled, conniving omegas."

"Me too," I murmur at his back as he saunters out of the room.

I want a soft bundle of omega to come home to.

If she has a sassy mouth that gets her put over my knee? Well, that'd be even better. Especially if she continued to run that pretty little mouth, knowing what it'd earn her.

I want someone to take care of, who'll take care of me in return.

I shake my head. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm even more done with going to bed alone every damn night.