Page 36 of Feral Alphas

“Speaking of omegas, Clayton, do you have any of the good stuff?” Jerry-anne whines, clinging to his arm.

“Yeah, something new came in.” He tilts his head, scanning the grand foyer. “Let’s find a room.”

“Is it registered?” I ask warily as I trail after them.

“Fuck, Kye, for someone so damn smart you can be dumb as rocks sometimes. The registered stuff never has the same potency.”

My belly sours. “You do realize that’s because the unregistered stuff likely comes from a captive o-omega.” I don’t know why, but I have trouble even saying the word, like it’s holy or something. Losing your omega mother young might do that, I suppose.

“Boohoo,” Jerry-anne pretends to wipe her eyes. “Sucks for her, but great for us. Take a hit and you won’t even remember where it came from.” Brian laughs and ruffles her hair.

I stop walking. Every hesitation I had vanishes, like a pure note played in my mind which burns away all of the rubbish. “Nah, I’m out.”

Clayton levels me with a dark look. “The haze, or—?”

I hold his gaze. “All of it.”

His eyes narrow. “Careful, Kye. This isn’t like a college major you can change your mind about three times.”

I square my shoulders. “I’m aware of that. I had my doubts, but after doing eleven years with you all, I can’t get over the fact you’re all spineless pricks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than get high on someone else’s suffering.”

“You’re making a mistake, Kye,” Brian warns, his upper body loaded with tension like he wants to hit me.

“No, I’m making a good decision.” I cock my head and laugh. “Tell me, was it me you wanted, or the Romdine name?”

When no one answers, I scoff. “Thought so. Good luck with your new omega. I hope you treat her better than you talk about her.” I jerk away, breaking the last of the invisible web that tied me to my classmates for a decade.

“Truth is no one wants you around, you pompous ass! And if it weren’t for your name, no one would put up with you!” Brian calls after me. “Have fun being a lone alpha.”

A hurricane brews on the far side of the room, and it angles straight for me as I head for the stairs leading back to the theater. I lengthen my strides, but I’m not fast enough to outrun the calamity that is the head of the Romdine empire.

Father grabs my arm, jerking me around on the third step. “Stop right there! I’ve given you all the time you need to run wild, so now it’s—”

“No.”

His eyes widen. “What did you say to me?”

“I said no. I’m done with the Wests and their empty sycophants.” I throw my free arm in the direction they disappeared. “The fact you want me in a pack like that tells me your morals are just as shot.”

He seethes, the anger rioting through him strong enough to make his alpha scent cloud around us. “If your mother were here to see this!”

It’s his final barb, but this time it won’t work. I step down, into his chest. “If my blessed mother were here, she’d be ashamed of you trying to set me up with a pack that calls their omega a bitch!”

That bites his ass, but he’s seeing red by now, so probably not hearing a logical word I say.

I shake my head. “I don’t give a flying frick if their father’s the managing director of GoldBrush Banking. Not for all the money in the world will I be part of their pack.” I turn away in disgust, a sour taste lingering on my tongue.

“Take one more step and I’ll cut you from the Romdine register.” He laces the threat with his alpha voice, low and rumbly. It’spowerful, the voice of a man used to getting what he wants, but there are some powers in this world stronger than alpha speak and I think disgust must be one of them.

“Shove your register up your ass,” I tell him, and bounce up the steps to collect my beloved cello.

There goes my trust fund, and probably my music career. I lost everything but what stings most is I just gave up my only chance of ever being with an omega, and that rips me open more than I thought was possible.

Chapter fifteen

Rose

When I wake, all that’s left of my angel is his scent on my cushions. I’m in a different room, with low, natural lighting coming from the half-closed blinds. Bird song chitters somewhere nearby, going about their nesting business as if all was right in the world. I jerk upright, patting the bed behind me, but it’s cold and empty.

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