Page 11 of The Omega’s Nest

I head for the stairs, and my path is promptly blocked by a young, dark-haired omega with an unflinching gaze.

“Not how it works, baby alpha.” He twirls his finger in the air, indicating for me to turn around. His voice is barely contained scorn. Is this what this place does to omegas? Turns them into these hostile creatures? This omega would be lucky to be eighteen.

I take a step back, swallow carefully, and look down to meet his eyes. “I know the omega I want to see.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he mutters. “But does he want to see you?”

“Yes,” I reply instantly. Of course Addie wants to see me.

But the omega in front of me just rolls his eyes. “Alphas. One night between an omega’s thighs and you think they’re in love with you. Believe me, whoever he or she is, they’re not. Now go on.” He flicks his wrist, dismissing me.

My eye twitches at the thought of anyone between Addie’s thighs, and I feel my dick pulse at the thought of it being me—it’s a confusing combination of rage and desire. No doubt the omega smells it, because he narrows his eyes.

“Do I need to throw you out?” he asks. And while he might be much smaller than me in height and weight, I get the distinct feeling he’s planning to throw me out himself.

“No,” I manage and try to think.

My plan had been to get inside, walk up the stairs, grab Addie, and leave. Okay, not the best mission plan, and I certainly hadn’t accounted for surly omegas blocking my path. I should have. Omegas in a family unit are emotionally connected and notorious for protecting each other. Even though they can’t do so physically, they will use other means to keep alphas away from kin they see as vulnerable. Omegas in a brothel must form a similar bond, like an extended family.

I can use this information.

“Addie,” I say, then clarify. “Adrian Cunningham. He’s my … friend. He will want to see me.”

The omega’s face darkens.

“He doesn’t want to see you,” he says, voice low, but there’s no missing the seething quality to it.

I’m so perplexed, all I can do is ask, “He doesn’t?”

“You made him cry,” the omega hisses. “Get. Out.”

Cry? No, I’d never do that. I can’t bear the thought of it—my Addie? Alone and crying? He never cries. When we were kids and those boys would get it in their heads to taunt him because his omega father had run off, Addie’s jaw would clench, but he’d never cry. And I’d beat the shit out of those kids. The other guys who’d later present as alphas in our group would help. No one taunted Addie after that.

But now he’s crying? I made him cry? I need to comfort him. I need to make it right.

“Please,” I beg. I don’t care that I’m begging, don’t even consider using an alpha register on this omega and forcing him to do what I want. “Please, you have to take me to him. He needs me if he’s upset. Please.”

“Everything all right, here?” Another voice comes from behind us.

I glance over my shoulder and see the omega with the shaggy red hair and lightly freckled pale skin from the night before. Sagging with relief, I repeat my request. “I need to see Addie, Adrian.”

“Yeah, no.” The redhead shakes his head. “I decide who sees Adrian, and after last night? Yeah, I think we both know that’s a bad idea. Come on, buddy. Plenty of other omegas here.”

“No,” I say, my voice rising. “I’m not here for that. But I’ve got money. All night, I’ll pay for the whole night. I just need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” the dark-haired one says. “And we don’t get paid to listen to your fucking bullshit.”

I turn back to him. He’s folded his arms over his chest, his expression fierce.

But I don’t believe Addie doesn’t want to talk to me. I can’t believe that.

The scent of cool, open air flows from the top of the stairs, and my gaze darts up. Addie stands at the bannister, hands clasping the wood. I don’t miss the surprise that flits over his face before he buries it with a frown.

The music is loud, the voices of alphas slowly filling the space behind me making the room louder. I project my voice and hope he hears me.

“Addie, please. I’m not here for … that. Please, I just need to talk to you.”

His hands tighten on the railing, and his face doesn’t change, but his scent curls with a wisp of longing.