The words hit me like a hand around my throat.
My stomach twisted so sharply, I had to lock my knees to keep from swaying. Being spoken about that shouldn’t have surprised me. It was normal. Expected.
But hearing it now, out loud, while I was kneeling beside him….it felt different. Wrong in a way I couldn’t name.
A part of me shrank inward, curling tight around the old fear that I was just a thing being appraised. A product. Something to be chosen or rejected depending on how well I fit someone’s list.
Another part of me wondered if he meant it as a good thing. If he wanted it to mean, I wouldn’t be sent back. If it meant, I wouldn’t be punished. If it meant, I might actually leave this place.
But hope was dangerous. Hope got people hurt.
So, I pushed it down, burying it beneath the familiar weight of obedience and silence. I kept my eyes on the floor, kept my breathing steady, and kept myself small.
If he thought I fit what he needed, then I needed to stay that way. I couldn’t afford to do anything else.
“It’ll be a shame to see this one leave the property. He hasn’t even been available for client service for more than two days.”
“Why would that matter? From what I understand, any Omega can be purchased once they turn eighteen—no matter how many days they’ve been in use.”
The Alpha’s weight shifted in his chair, forcing his leg close enough that if I wanted, I could lean against it.
“I just want to make sure that you’ll be pleased with this Omega. He’s not one I thought would want to be picked so quickly. Not with his…. talents.”
“And what talents would those be?”
The wordtalentshit something deep in me, and a memory rose before I could stop it.
I was younger, maybe fifteen, and standing in the training hall with a line of other Omegas. The lights were too bright, humming overhead, making everything feel exposed.
A handler walked down the row, clipboard in hand, calling out numbers and notes like we were items on a shelf.
“Posture. Voice control. Compliance. Emotional steadiness.”
Every time he paused in front of someone, they stiffened. Some tried to look eager. Others tried to disappear.
When he reached me, he didn’t look up from his clipboard. “Average. No special talents.”
I remembered the way my chest had tightened, not from disappointment, but from relief. Beingaveragemeant being overlooked. Being overlooked meant being safe.
It meant less pain, less pressure, and I was nearly invisible.
Chapter 9
Evander
Something was off.
I noticed it the moment we stepped into my house, and Kasey’s steps faltered. His breathing had gone shallow, too controlled. His shoulders were tight; drawn in like he was trying to fold himself smaller.
He followed me, but it wasn’t reallythe following. It was drifting. Moving because I moved. His eyes weren’t focused on anything in front of him, just fixed somewhere far away, like he’d slipped behind a wall I couldn’t see.
I slowed my pace without thinking, giving him time to catch up but he didn’t. He just hoovered behind me, shaky, silent, barely holding himself together.
“Kasey? You doing alright?”
He flinched at the sound of his name. Not dramatically, just a tiny jerk of his shoulders like the words pulled him back into his body for half a second before he disappeared again.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t look up. Didn’t even breathe differently. He just stood there, trembling so faintly I almost didn’t see it.
