The cameraman hesitated before forcing a professional tone back into place. “Right. Of course.”
But the handler wasn’t convinced. His gaze flickered between us, lingering on me long enough that my lungs felt too tight. Then, he turned his attention fully on the cameraman.
“Keep your focus on the task. Not the Omega. If you want totalkto him later, wait until his profile is up on the website. Alpha Lockswell will have it posted in a timely manner.”
The words hit like a slap I wasn’t allowed to react to.
The cameraman’s jaw tightened. “Understood,BetaJohn.”
The handler didn’t move away right away. He stayed there, watching, making sure the message landed. Only when he was satisfied did he step back and wave at the Alpha to finish up.
The cameraman exhaled slowly. And even though he didn’t look at me again, I could feel something simmering under his skin.
Chapter 3
Evander
My job was simple: take photos, document the Omegas, move on. Don’t look too long at any of them. I wasn’t here to ogle the merchandise, only to photograph each one, making them appear more perfect than they appeared in person.
Easy money in the grand scheme of things. Something I had done multiple times before for this boarding house, among other Omega holding centers.
But then the next one stepped forward. He was small, head bowed like he was trying to disappear into the floor. He was just like the others before him for the most part.
Perfect posture. Perfect stillness as though he could walk through glass and not disturb the air.
I couldn’t deny that all Omegas had a certain aspect to them, even here. They were one of a kind. Each their own person, but with a specialness to them that only their blood type could carry.
The second to last Omega was called up as I readjusted my camera. This boy was shorter than the others by a few inches.
I would have ignored the beta monologue of details like all the others before, if it hadn’t been for the name.
Kasey.
No.
It couldn’t be.
I blinked hard, once, twice, trying to force my thoughts away. Lockswell was the last place on earth I expected to see him. The last place Iwantedto see was him. The last place he should ever have been.
But when the handler said his name, the world tilted.
Kasey.
My Kasey.
The kid who used to run ahead of me on the trail behind our houses. The kid who called me Evy liked it was the most natural thing in the world.
The kid I’d spent ten years searching for in every shadow, every rumor, every dead end.
He was right there.
And he didn’t look up. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react to his own name.
He just stood there, perfectly still, like someone had carved the life out of him and left the shape behind.
He’d grown — of course he had — but not much. Still small for his age, still slight, still the kind of kid who looked like the world could knock him over with a strong breeze. But older. Sharper around the edges. His shoulders held tension I’d never seen on him before.
Ten years.
