Leaving the bathroom, Carver found Tex sitting on the living room couch. He looked relaxed, a slight smirk on his lips, and Carver’s hackles rose. If Tex was pulling the casual act, it meant that he was going to say somethingreallyhorrible.
“What did you do?” Carver asked, stopping a few feet in front of the couch and looking down at his husband suspiciously.
“Why do you think I did something?” Tex asked, rubbing the back of his neck. The nervous habit betrayed him.
“Did you?”
Tex lowered his arm, looking up at Carver with a frank expression. “We need an omega.”
Carver blinked, Tex’s statement coming completely out of left field. He frowned, wondering what on earth Tex could want to talk about that had to do with omegas. The two of them were alphas, so the fact that they needed an omega was obvious, but they were doing everything they could to get one. They were going on dates, using online services, and everything in between—and so far they hadn’t had any luck.
“I know that,” Carver said.
Tex shook his head, his voice when he spoke eminently reasonable. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. We need to use the delinquent omega matching program.”
Carver’s first impulse was to laugh. Joking about the delinquent omega matching program was in poor taste, but it would be just like Tex to do so. He waited for the punchline, but Tex just kept staring at him like it was his turn to talk.
“Ha, ha,” Caver said, rolling his eyes. “Tell me what’s actually bothering you.”
“I’m serious,” Tex said. “I want us to get an omega through the delinquent omega program.”
Carver licked his lip, unsure of how he was supposed to react. This had to be a joke, except Tex wasn’t acting like it was a joke. He was relaxed and calm, using the same tone of voice that he used when he was suggesting something reasonable that Carver just needed a bit of prodding to accept.
But this wasn’t something reasonable. This was the delinquent omega matching program.
“What?” Carver asked, starting to get angry.
“I want to use the delinquent omega matching program to get an omega,” Tex repeated.
He was actually serious. The realization hit Carver with a sinking feeling in his gut. Folding his arms over his chest, leather jacket creaking under the strain of his bulging biceps, Carver glared down at his husband.
“Stop fucking around, this isn’t funny.”
“It’s not meant to be,” Tex said, still acting like he was being reasonable. “We’ve tried all the nice options, but that hasn’t worked for us. We need an omega, and we can’t wait any longer.”
“Are you insane?” Carver’s question was more growl than actual words.
“Don’t be like that,” Tex said. He rubbed his chin, big hand smoothing down over rough stubble, acting like he wasn’t suggesting the most heinous thing Carver had ever heard. “I’m just saying that we’ve spent five years looking for an omega, and I think that it’s time to face the facts.”
“Which are?” Carver growled.
“No omega is going to choose us. I mean… look at us!” Tex gestured between them with a wave of his hand, as if to encompass their tall and muscled werewolf bodies. “We’re too scary. We both know that the only way we’re getting an omega is through the delinquent omega program.”
Tex leaned back, sinking into the couch cushion with an expression like he knew that Carver was going to be angry and he wanted to get it over with. He kicked his legs up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles and making a scuff on the polished table with the heel of his boot.
It was infuriating.
“That’s fucked up.” Carver tried to keep calm, but his fury and disappointment shone through loud and clear. Tex wasn’t seriously suggesting they take some poor wretch from the delinquent omega program and force him to be their mate, was he?
From the look on his face, he was.
“I know it’s fucked up. But does that mean we shouldn’t do it?” Tex asked like that was a question people who weren’t psychos would ask.
“Yes!” Carver exploded, rage forcing his body into motion. He kicked the coffee table and sent it crashing across the floor and into the wall. Tex just sighed and lifted his legs out of the way, lowering them slowly onto the now empty rug where the table used to be. He glanced over at the coffee table, now flipped over but otherwise undamaged, and then looked back at Carver.
Chest heaving, fists clenched, Carver vibrated with rage. He’d always taken great pride in being a modern alpha—believing in equal rights and an omega’s right to decide things for themselves—and here Tex was acting like it was nothing. Like omegas werethingsyou could buy and use as you pleased.
“Why not?” Tex asked. “In the old days, we would have grabbed the first omega that smelled good right off the street and that would have been it. How is this any worse?” Tex was still speaking in that annoying tone of voice likehewas the one being reasonable and Carver was being difficult. “And besides, it’s not like they don’t have a choice. They could go to prison if they wanted.”
