Page 2 of Knot a Thief

He gives me space, telling me we needed our relationship to develop naturally when my stepfather sold me to him over a year ago.

I never wanted this life, but I'd never have the lovely things I have today if it wasn't for the deal he made for me.

Mom struggled to give her daughters the life they needed before she married my stepfather. But that’s where it all went wrong for the Darling sisters.

It actually started after the death of my father, and then she told us she met a rich alpha through an online dating app.

One month later, I had a new stepfather, step sisters I never got to meet because only after she married him did we find out he sold his omega daughters when each of them turned eighteen years old.

Only now do I see what he did.

He realized the worth of an omega and sought my mom for an extra payday. He planned it all along.

And after selling me, one by one, he plans to sell my sisters too.

"Avaline."

My eyes flash to the doorway. I smile and lower my gaze. "Yes, Alpha."

“Wear the black dress tonight.”

“I thought—”

“Black.”

Sweet, bubbly champagne and decadent desserts create a mesmerizing scent in the air. Mouthwatering hors d’oeuvres are passed around on silver platters, each bite bursting with flavor.

I’d love to taste everything, let the sweetness of the wine and savory bites dance on my tongue, but that’s not how Garrett Jameson’s omega acts.

I glance at the large mirror on the back wall as my fingers play with the side of my masquerade mask. It’s obsidian, hard, has cat-like eyes, and pointy ears to match. Only the lower half of my face is uncovered, just as Garrett likes it, because it hides me away.

Why he wants to keep my identity a secret is something I’ve never found out the answer to.

Just like this ball, he organized it to be a masquerade event. I’ve suspected that as omegas are becoming more and more rare; he is worried someone may kidnap me—again.

Tonight I’m the same as all the other guests. Each is wearing an elaborate mask, concealing their identities behind feathers and lace.

I love shiny, expensive things. So for me, this is my fairytale come to life. Not only the glittering masks, or the costumes made of silk and velvet, but also the sounds of laughter and music filling the grand ballroom. And watching rich people do their thing.

“Hello Garrett. It’s been a long time.”

I spin to the deep male voice. He is wearing a black suit, black shirt and matching tie, and the mask he wears is identical to mine.

His hair is dark brown and his face sharp, at least what I can see.

My heart skips a beat as I lock eyes with the man. There’s something in his gaze, a spark of recognition that sends a shiver down my spine.

I try to inhale, desperate to smell his alpha scent, for any clue, any hint of uniqueness that might set him apart.

But it’s pointless.

I no longer have a scent and I don’t smell alpha pheromones, not like other omegas do.

I might as well be a beta.

I smell nothing other than the general scents all around me. Expensive perfumes, the lingering scent of cleaning products. When all I want to smell is the faint musk of an alpha—but there’s nothing specific to him.

I’m a flop as an omega.

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