Page 8 of Consider The Lilies

“You don’t think we should wait until next month?” I ask. “He’ll be a pain in the ass to sell anyway, but if we can find a collector, he might make more money if he’s in better health.”

Angelica nods as if that’s an excellent point, but then she says, “Henley Meyers is attending tonight.”

I perk at the name. “Really?” I try to remember the last time I saw him at an auction. Two, maybe three months ago. He was looking for a previously mated omega who was lactating. We were able to supply a mated one with exceptional tits, but lactating was way too specific of a request.

The fucker has weird taste.

“Has he already used up his last omega?” I ask as we make our way past the kitchen. It’s not a proper space, but rather a large open campfire with several different types of meat roasting on a spit. The long tables in front of the fire are loaded down with all kinds of dishes with massive kegs of imported beer on either end. The alphas who attend the auctions don’t come here for the food, but they’re easier to please with a full belly.

“Who knows what he does with his omegas?” Angelica shrugs as she passes the open bar.

A few familiar alphas sit, drinking their beer and laughing loudly. “But I did hear a rumor that Henley was interested in a male.” She cuts me a knowing look with those bright blue eyes. “Not to mention that we’re a little low on supplies,” she says, trying to talk me into including the male now. “If enough alphas miss out on buying a female, they might settle for a male out of desperation. No matter how bad a state he’s in.”

I think that over, deciding she might be right. But I need to see how bad this omega is first.

“I think once you see him, you’ll agree,” Angelica says as if she can read my mind. Hell, maybe she can. She’s been running my market for almost five years now. She knows just as well as I do what sells and what doesn’t. “Putting the male in the auction tonight is for the best. Holding on to him will cost us more money for an omega we won’t get much for anyway.”

Gripping the heavy canvas flap, I flick my cigarette onto the ground, then step into the medical tent. The smell of drugged omegas is like nothing else. It’s thickly sweet but absent of all fear. It also doesn’t hold any arousal, but it still makes my balls ache and my canines tingle.

“No alphas in here,” Dr. Plume’s stern voice cuts through the otherwise quiet tent. He scowls as he leans around a partition, but then his dark eyes widen with surprise when he sees me, making the anger between his brows lift. “Stanley!” He smiles at me like we’re old friends. We’re not, but whatever keeps the good doctor happy and working. “It’s good to see you, sir.”

I give the beta a simple nod as I glance around the spacious tent. The partitions block my view of the cots, but I can still see the faint outline of my precious omegas, waiting to be sedated, collared, and groomed.

“How are things?” I cross the room, stepping around the partition to see who Plume is working on. A small, red-haired omega lies on the cot with a sheet draped over her naked body. Her eyes are glossed over, and her mouth is slack. “Is everyone in good health?” I ask the doctor as I pinch the omega’s chin, rolling her head from one side to the other. She moves easily for me, completely doped up.

“Everyone is ready,” Dr. Plume says with obvious pride in his work. “Did Angelica tell you about the new omega we just got in?” He slips a thick leather nape-guard around the omega’s neck, securing it in place. They’re a vital piece of equipment at the Morder. They protect the merchandise from any forced matings before the bill is paid.

“Angelica mentioned a male.” I lift the sheet to examine the redhead. She looks good. Perky breasts and only a few scars on her forearms and hips. She’ll do well in the display room. “Where is he?” I carefully place the sheet back over the omega, making sure to cover her chest.

“Right this way, sir,” Dr. Plume says, obviously eager to show me.

Angelica finishes her rounds, then follows us to the other side of the tent. A thin wall, constructed out of flimsy particle board, separates the main area from a makeshift isolation room.

Lying on a metal table is a small, naked male omega. I’m disappointed to see that he isn’t anything especially impressive, but he’s not ugly either. His soft skin is flushed pink, and his eyes are round and wide. He’s just very malnourished.

“Are you sure he’s of age?” I look at his small omega erection. It strains upward, pointing at his thin belly.

“Positive,” Angelica says with a shocking amount of confidence.

I take her word for it as I examine the omega’s pale face. His green eyes are unfocused, but his face does have a nice innocence that alphas love. His blond hair is freshly washed, falling over his ears in floppy waves, and his lips are pink and pouty.Fresh. He looks fresh. Like a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.

“He’s kind of pretty,” I say, unable to help myself. “But he needs to gain some weight.” I turn his head, examining his neck. No mating bite. Not even a nick from an attempt. In fact, he doesn’t have a single mark on him. I look at every inch of his body once again, realizing he doesn't even have any bruises. “Where was he found?” I ask, struggling to believe he was captured in the wild. The last thing I need is for an underaged omega to have been snatched from someone’s house.

“Not far from here,” Angelica says. “The Contos brothers brought him in. They’re still here if you’d like his exact location.”

“Cardis and Andros?” I ask, just to make sure. Angelica nods, and my worry falls away. The Contos brothers are too lazy to have kidnapped an omega from another alpha. I’m sure they found this boy.

“Would you like to see the display room?” Angelica asks.

I glance once again at the omega’s face, noticing his mouth opening ever so slightly. Is he trying to speak?

“Yes.” I turn away from the metal table, but before I can take a single step, something cold wraps around my wrist, holding me in place. The omega’s fingers are like ice against my skin.

“Oh! He’s awake.” Angelica grabs Dr. Plume by the arm, pulling him closer to the table.

I normally pull away from the omegas who try to touch me. The last thing I want is a clingy omega, begging to be freed. But there’s something about this small omega that has my interest piqued. The omega’s pink lips move again, and curiosity gets the better of me.

“Speak up,” I command softly as I lean down to better hear.

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