Page 3 of Unruly Omega (One Wild Alpha #1)

Locke

Over the years, we’d built a network of communication with our fellow shifters and groups of trusted humans. The humans kept their ears to the ground about things going on and news we didn’t hear on the television, and packs shared information across the board.

Not that we were a pack.

We weren’t.

Community was the word I would use.

“Hello.” I answered my cell while helping restock the pantry after a run to one of the big-box stores. The caller ID said the number was unknown, so I took care not to say my name.

“Locke, this is Reggie. I have information.”

“Is it Benson? Is he okay?” It had only been a few days since my friend had left but, if he was in trouble, there would be hell to pay.

“What? No. Benson is fine. I’ve heard something about a local lab. One of our human contacts called me this morning.”

“What is it?” I felt my way to the seat behind me and sat down, bracing myself for the bad tidings. Unless they were shutting down all the facilities, there was no good news. I doubted he was calling to tell me that. There would be more zeal and relief in his voice.

“There was an escape from one of the labs. The one that’s closest to you.”

That wasn’t saying much. The closest lab to us was over fifty miles away.

“Are they reporting how many are missing? Is it only shifters?”

We shifters weren’t special. They wanted to research monsters and other supernatural creatures. We were the first, but we weren’t the last. We have heard they might even focus on their own species in some labs. Their torture.

“I don’t know. That place was only for shifters as of our last intel.”

“Okay. If you see anyone, send them my way. We have room.”

“Of course. Benson said you always stay prepped. I just…” He paused and cleared his throat. “We want you to know that you have the support and respect of our pack. If you need anything or find yourself in trouble, don’t hesitate to call. We know what you do for shifters like Benson, and we’re grateful.”

Huh. I didn’t know Reggie very well. A few phone calls here and there. He wasn’t my bestie by a long shot.

Until his last statement, I would barely have called him a friend.

“I appreciate that. And while we’re on the subject, I’m grateful for your acceptance of Benson. For his sake and his mate’s as well. He’s a good man.”

“He is. We’re grateful to have him here. I’m actually thinking about making him a beta.”

My chest warmed. This was the end game for everyone we took into sanctuary here. Benson was a success story but not all were. “I think he would be a great beta. Thanks for the information. We’re going to be ready. And if you speak to any other alphas, please let them know we will take in anyone they encounter. Shifter. Monster. Whatever.”

“Will do. Talk to you later, Locke.” He hung up the phone before I could respond.

I went directly to Markus. I tended to bark out orders, but he had a way of gathering everyone without them getting pissed off in the process. I knocked on his open door. “Are you busy?”

“Not too much. How can I help?”

“I received a phone call from Reggie in the other pack and he says there was an escape from the nearest lab. He thinks we might have escapees headed our way. Can you rally the troops and let’s go clean up the bunkhouse? Get the beds made?”

“It’s strange how you can speak to me so kindly but not to the group.”

I cocked my head, thinking about it. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. “I don’t know why.”

Markus nodded but got up from his desk, shutting his laptop. “Might want to work on finding out why. You’re the alpha, after all.”

“I’m not…”

He held up his hand. “I know. I know. You’re not the alpha. Meet us there.”

I stopped by the storage area and picked up ten sets of sheets. Many were flowery or had wild prints. Some had cartoons on them. But they were clean and were more comfortable than anything they had slept in at the lab.

We relied on donations from the shifter community, both monetary and material. We would randomly receive orders for food or other supplies and we were grateful. We had no jobs outside of this place. I’d used my entire inheritance to pay for it.

That didn’t make me the alpha.

Everyone gathered in the bunkhouse, and we went to work like a well-oiled machine. Some swept and mopped. Others made beds like I was. We opened the windows and let the fresh air in since shifters, especially ones who had recently emerged from imprisonment, were especially sensitive to smell. We chalked it up to smelling the death and sickness smells from the labs, but we tried to help as much as we could until their senses got readjusted.

“When are we expecting people?” one of our other guests asked. He had come to us about three months before. He didn’t remember his name but we called him Butch. He seemed to like it.

“Not sure. In the next day or two, I suspect. A shifter should be able to run the distance in that time if they are physically able. If not, a week or so. Keep your eyes and ears open and on alert when you run. The other packs are listening as well.”

“Yes, alpha.”

Fuck.