Chapter one
Solana
The buses idle outside Harmony House, their engines rumbling low enough to vibrate through the soles of my bare feet. I stand in line with the other omegas, watching the wardens check clipboards and bark instructions. Everyone around me buzzes with barely contained excitement, whispers rippling through our group in waves of nervous energy.
"I heard it's a real horse race," someone says behind me.
"With actual crowds?"
"We haven't left Harmony in months."
I keep my mouth shut and my eyes down. Excitement feels dangerous. Hope feels worse. Harmony House taught me that lesson early. Want nothing, expect less, and maybe you won't shatter when they take it all away.
"Solana." My name cuts through the chatter. Alpha Graves stands at the bus door, pen poised over her clipboard, her expression as severe as the bun pulling her hair back from her face. "You're in group three. Bus two."
"Yes, ma'am." The words come automatically. That's what they want. That's what keeps you safe.
I climb the steps into the bus, gripping the metal handrail as I go. The seats are worn vinyl, cracked in places, but they're clean. Everything at Harmony House is clean and sterile, as if they can wash away what we are if they just work hard enough.
I slide into a seat near the middle, close to the aisle as Cara drops down beside me, practically vibrating with energy. She's younger than me by almost a decade, with deep crimson hair that’s nearly the color of blood, a prominent attraction for some of the Alphas who have visitedHarmony.
"Can you believe it?" She grips my arm, her fingers digging in just enough that I feel the bite of her nails through my dress sleeve. "We're actually going somewhere. Somewhere real."
I manage a smile, though it feels thin on my face. Being let out of Harmony House is just for show, a way to tell the world that the center is doing good work. Taking in poor little Omegas and giving them the life they'd never have elsewhere. "It's just a horse race."
"It'soutside." Cara's eyes shine with unshed tears, and I can smell the spike of emotion in her scent before the suppressants dampen it back down. "When's the last time you saw something that wasn't these walls?"
I don't answer because I don't remember. Harmony House has swallowed weeks, months, maybe years of my life. Time moves differently here, measured in rounds of suppressants and behavioral evaluations instead of sunrises. I'm thirty-one years old, and I've been here so long I barely remember what life looked like before.
More Omegas file onto the bus, everyone hesitant to keep themselves under the radar so they don’t get thrown back into the center while we all get to leave. Alpha Graves starts counting heads, makes a few notes on her clipboard, and then counts again. She's meticulous. They all are.Can't risk losing one of their inventory,I tell myself bitterly.
That's what I am. What we all are. Property of Harmony House, held under the legal fiction that we're incapable of caring for ourselves. The government gave them that power decades ago, wrapped it in pretty language about Omega protection and safety. But the truth is simpler and uglier. We're merchandise. We stay here until someone claims us and takes us off Harmony's books in exchange for an egregious sum. Until then, we belong to them.
I'm one of their favorites, the one they parade out when donors visit or government inspectors come calling. Look at Solana, they say. Thriving in our program. So well-adjusted. So grateful for the structure we provide.
I want to vomit every time.
The alternative to gratitude, though, is punishment. I learned that early too. The Omega before me in processing, a fierce girl named Maya who refused to comply, spent three weeks in isolation. When she came out, something vital had been scraped away. She was adopted within a month by an Alpha twice her age. I never saw her smile again.
So I smile. I comply. I'm good.
I’m always good.
"Everyone seated?" Alpha Graves' voice carries over the low hum of conversation, sharp enough to cut through the excited chatter. "Remember the rules. Stay with your assigned group at all times. No wandering. No unsupervised contact with Alphas. Anyone who causes problems will be brought back immediately and face appropriate consequences."
The threat lands exactly as intended. The excited chatter dies down to nervous murmurs, then fades to silence. We all know what "appropriate consequences" means. Isolation. Withheld meals. Extra suppressant doses that leave you foggy and sick. Or worse, the quiet rooms where they break you down and build you back up in whatever shape they prefer.
The ones who try to run come back broken.Always.
The bus lurches forward with a groan of gears and I grip the seat in front of me as we pass through Harmony's gates, watching through the window as the tall iron bars swing open. The world opens up beyond the fence, trees lining the road, their leaves caught in that perfect moment between summer green and autumn gold. Houses dot the landscape, real homes where real people live real lives.Free people.
My chest tightens as I suck in a breath and press my forehead against the cool window glass, feeling the vibration of the road beneath us.
"You okay?" Cara's hand finds mine, her fingers warm against my cold skin.
"Fine." I force myself to breathe slowly, counting the inhales and exhales the way they taught us in the calming exercises. "Just not used to this."
She squeezes my fingers. "Me neither."
