Not after the childhood I had in one.
“We’ve discussed this,” I say slowly. He’s asked me to be his girlfriend before. When will he grow tired of my rejection?
His expression hardens the way only an alpha’s can and I almost roll my eyes.
“Madeline, you value your freedom. I can understand that. So do I,” he starts. “It’s part of why we work so well together, but I’m growing weary of only seeing you once or twice a week. Your heat is starting soon and I will take care of you during it.”
There it is—it always comes down to that. It’s all they ever want. It’s the reality of life as an omega.
I actually really like Alric. As far as clients go, he’s one of the best—tied with Zachary and Hunter—but he was always going to end up like every other alpha. The reason I always disappear one year after I meet them.
I’m gone before they can collect on the heat I’ve promised.
A lot of alphas view heats as an achievement—an event for their pleasure, something earned and expected if they have access to an omega. More of them should view it as an honorand opportunity to treat omegas in a way we deserve. It’s a privilege to be entrusted with an omega’s heat.
I’ve never trusted anyone with mine.
My clients and I have an agreement. They get access to me and all the status that brings them. I get their money to save for a life free of alphas.
Omegas are so rare—only less than 5 percent of the population—and male omegas are even rarer. Even fewer of us are single. Most are in wealthy packs, proudly wearing their bonding bites on their necks, so alphas go to great lengths to access those of us who are still available.
We’re the ultimate status symbol. Want a promotion at work? Show up at the office party with one on your arm, and your boss will be calling you into his office Monday morning. Want to beat your personal record at the gym? The pheromones of an omega nearby will pump your muscles up. Stressed out? Ten minutes listening to an omega’s purr will soothe you better than any drug.
It’s always about what we can do for them.
Close proximity to us tells the world what a rich alpha looks like. Fucking us changes their brain chemistry. Our slick gives them energy, boosts their immune system, and improves cognitive function. Packed-up alphas live longer and have lower risks for all illness and diseases, because being in our presence lowers stress.
Most alphas will doanythingto keep an omega. That was a painful lesson my mom and I learned time and time again with her shitty pack.
“That’s it, then?” I ask Alric. “That’s what this is about? My heat?”
“It’s happening soon, is it not? You’ll need me.” He says it so matter-of-fact, but that’s where he’s wrong.
I don’tneedhim. I need my cat, Bellini. I need strawberrymatcha lattes and my nest and my high-yield savings account, so I never hear the wordsyou need mefrom an alpha again.
It’s bold of him to assume he would be a top choice for my heat, if I allowed for anyone to join me. I mean, he would, but that’s not the point.
It is, however, my personal cue to end this tonight. The second my heat comes up so late in our relationship tells me it’s time to leave. It’s what keeps them on the line, but it’s time to cut him loose.
I have my speech memorized.
“I’ve enjoyed our time together, Alric. You’re quite a force. I’m sure you’ll find another omega who will give you what you want,” I say. “You deserve that. I think we’re in different places in our lives and while our connectionisstrong, I do value my freedom, and I have no interest in settling down with anyone. Something I was very clear about from the start.”
And that’s that. A clean break.
Once I walk out of here, I’ll never see him again. I’ll slip out of his life, like I have with every alpha before him.
Alric will find another omega, maybe even a scent match if he’s truly lucky. I’ll become a distant but fond memory, a past fling who will only cross his mind when someone around him orders my favorite cocktail or he hears a song we once danced to under the stars.
He takes a long drink, his eyes not leaving mine, but before either of us can speak again, a knock breaks the tension in the room and I relax for a moment.
If this were a real relationship, I would have left, but what we have is a business transaction, and he has already paid for my time tonight. Plus, I want dinner.
“Enter,” Alric says in the commanding tone he uses when he speaks to anyone but me.
A polite waiter joins us, holding a heavy tray, the heavenlyscent of our dinner carried with him. He sets everything down before us and of course, Alric has selected all of my favorites. Massive crab cakes with a golden crust, paired with a creamy sauce, miso-glazed salmon on a bed of carrots and sautéed spinach.
Alric and I share plates of seared filet mignon and glistening lobster tail complete with a vibrant butter sauce, alongside velvety garlic mashed potatoes.
