Page 7 of The Omega’s Nest

“Nothing, guy I knew from school,” I mumble and very deliberately do not hug the shirt closer to myself.

But Benji nods like that explains it. “Always weirds ’em out. You good?”

“Yeah, fine, fine,” I say breathlessly.

“Good, I’ll be back later to collect the take.” And with that, he leaves.

Thankfully, I have enough savings to cover the cut he’s referring to from Leo.

“You sure you’re good?” Tristan asks once Benji has definitely disappeared. “You smell all … sad.” He looks pointedly at the shirt.

“Yeah, yeah, course. Just, umm, embarrassing, I guess.”

I don’t know why I don’t tell Tristan the truth. He’d probably understand. But I can’t face the truth myself.

“All right, well, I got someone in my room, but I can stay if—”

“No, no. Go, go.” I smile reassuringly.

He nods, frowns, but thankfully leaves with a parting promise to get me someone else once he’s done. The thought of it makes me feel sick.

Once I’m alone, I lift the shirt to my face and inhale deeply. My eyes slip closed on the welling tears—that’s my alpha.

I don’t know how long I stand there, pulling that scent deep into my lungs, lost in a haze of Leo, but the sound of people coming up the stairs and Tristan’s voice snaps me back to the present, to my surroundings.

My room has a tiny walk-in robe, and in the corner I’ve constructed the world’s most pitiful nest. I rush to it, survey the stash I’d brought from home—two pillows, three cushions, Leo’s old hoodie, and the blanket that’d belonged to my omega. With reverent hands, I tuck Leo’s shirt around the pillows where I rest my head when I sleep. I never sleep in my bed—that’s tainted with everything else I’ve done there, what the omegas who came before me did there. Most of us sleep in our nests. Not that I’ve seen anyone else’s. An omega’s nest is for the omega and the alpha they bond with, and obviously none of us are bonded.

“Adrian?” Tristan calls.

I take one more hit of Leo’s scent, shove down the feelings of wrongness that have now multiplied to a degree that feels unbearable, and get my game face on. I re-enter the room and swallow down the nausea at the sight of the fit, middle-aged alpha standing beside my bed.

Chapter 2

Leo

Igasp, trying to catch my breath. Tipping my head up, I suck in as much of the sea-drenched air outside the brothel as I can. I can’t go into an alpha rage, I can’t. If I lose myself, I won’t be able to get Addie out.

Addie. My Addie. I found him. I finally found him. And he’s in a place like this. Alphas are putting their hands on him, alphas are … they’re …

I retch and drop my hands to my knees. Nausea wars with the red descent of an alpha rage.

Stop it. He needs you. Get it the fuck together.

“Hey, you need to move on, man,” a rough voice says from behind me.

Move on? I straighten up and just manage to stop myself from screaming, “Move on?! I’ve been in love with Addie since I was four years old! I won’t be fucking moving on!”

It’s a security guard. I blink at his calm expression as he stands in front of the soft glow of the door. He means it literally.

I’m not going anywhere. But I can make my presence more inconspicuous. I stumble across the deserted street, through the wind whipping rubbish in whirlpools over the bitumen. A warehouse that looks abandoned looms over the foul-smelling road. I stagger up the steps to the alcove that leads to the door.

Slumping down, I sit on the cold, broken tiles and drop my head into my hands. Breathe, just breathe. Society is big on breathing exercises for baby alphas. We had them in high school, then special classes when I joined the military and went into basic training, and even more of them since I joined the Air Force. Alphas need lessons on self-control since our default is to be out of control—being juiced on so much testosterone puts us on a hair-trigger for rage, for fucking.

No, don’t think about fucking, don’t do it, don’t go there—

But my Addie. My perfect omega, my Addie. I was meant to be his first alpha, his only alpha. He was—is, he fucking is, I’m getting him out of there—he is going to be my first, my only. I can’t believe I almost succumbed to sleeping with another omega after all these years. A moment of weakness and stupidity after my father dropped that bomb—“Adrian is bonded. You can stop this pathetic hunt of yours. Let him go. Move on. He has.”

And I let the alphas I know from basics talk me into coming up to the city, up to Celo. “A night out will do you good,” they’d said. “Christ, get laid. A twenty-one-year-old alpha virgin is not a good fucking look, man.”