Page 53 of Feral Alphas

One reporter asks our city’s rare alpha female about the diamonds she’s wearing, and she pauses to display the bling, managing to slide in a comment about her company at the same time. Dad deals with her corporation, although he calls her a monster in private.

I check my bank account to confirm the money transferred and stare at the numbers. The lack of zeroes looms like doomsday now I can’t count on my trust fund.

“You know, it’s probably a good thing I haven’t matched with an omega. I wouldn’t even be able to fund one,” I murmur. Talking to my instrument is surely an early sign of madness, but at least she won’t judge me.

It’s only because I’m holding my phone that I see the call flash up with an unknown number. Probably a spammer, but it’s not like I have anything better to do.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr Kye Romdine?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“Mr Romdine, my name is Ophelia House and I’m the district director at the Darinian Omega Center.”

My heart leaps. What if there was a mistake, and I did scent match with the Wests’ omega, but now they won’t have me?

I brace one hand against the back of the couch. “What can I do for you, Ms House?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, but I have a situation I need to discuss with you. Can you spare me some time?”

I draw in a deep breath. I can’t jump to conclusions—they may want to host a charity event or seek sponsors. “Of course. I’m all ears.”

“The truth is, we’ve had a female omega scent match with you—”

Buzzing sounds in my ears and I climb over the back of the sofa to crouch on the cushions. “Really?” I ask breathlessly.

“Please hear me out. It’s true, but she’s just been rescued from an extremely painful situation. She’s been a captive her entire life in an illegal black-market facility and never learned how to function in society.”

An instinctive growl tears through my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting to calm myself.

The woman murmurs in agreement. “Yes, it’s a horrible situation, and I hope you can appreciate the need for delicate handling.”

I swallow around a sudden lump in my throat. “Did it have anything to do with haze production?”

“Not in her particular case. I need you to sign some disclaimers before we share details, but you also need to know the omega in question has identified a scent match with another alpha.”

“A pack?” I ask sharply, thinking of the West brothers I spurned.

“A two-alpha pack.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. The West brothers are officially a three-man pack. “Alright. What do I need to do?”

“The other pack includes an agent from the OCB and, due to the unique situation, the omega will be placed into his care locally.”

My fist tightens around the phone. “Where are they? Oh, you said you’re calling from the Darinian Center?”

“That’s right.”

Well, moving two states over might not be such a bad idea. I mute the phone and voice speak an order to the TV to look up Darinian on the maps, trying to recall something about the city. I played a concert there about three years ago on my solo tour.

“I don’t mind moving,” I confirm. “Anything else I need to know?”

The woman hesitates. “There is more, but I think it’s best to confirm the scent match in person before we proceed, if you’re willing?”

My heart misses a beat. “Absolutely, I’ll pack tomorrow. Looks like a two-day drive.”

“We can book you a flight under the Center’s funds, Mr Romdine. There are many cases where the scent match turns out to be a false-negative.”

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