Page 17 of Omega Alliance

There’s also a big difference between fantasizing about something and truly living it. That’s what the director and all the watchers don’t understand. I am the people’s omega, meant to belong to them all, but in the end, I belong to no one—not even myself.

The longer I spend under my own direction, the harder it becomes to keep going. I’ve been trained not to think, not to feel, and now suddenly this pack of rescuers expects me to know how to do both of these things?

They want to help, but if I am to recover at all, I need to do so on my own.

Maybe that’s why I drag myself out of bed at the first light of dawn and tiptoe through the house, hoping I won’t wake any of the others.

As tired as I am, I couldn’t sleep well during the night. That may have something to do with the absence of the handlers’ nightly concoction meant to help me sleep soundly and for the exact right amount of time—or it could be due to all the heavy thoughts tromping through my mind. Whatever the case, I am happy to have something to distract me now as I glide around the abandoned house, searching for hints about the former residents’ lives.

I pick up a framed photo and study the smiling faces, a man and a woman—beta, not too much older than I am now.

Their likeness is framed in dark wood with sharp corners and a silver beveled edge. The left corner is bent, tarnishing the metal. I trace my fingers across the glass, finding it warm to the touch, then lift the picture to my face and stare at it even more intently.

How do I know this couple is beta? It could be the simple fact that they are a couple and not a pack, but I think it's something more than that. There's some subtle clue that I'm picking up without even recognizing, but I can't figure out what it is.

The couple is sitting on the steps of this very house's porch, the woman’s head leaning on the man’s shoulder, his hand resting on top of hers. They are both smiling and look young, but his smile is much wider. The corners of his eyes are crinkled, and deep laugh lines spread from the corners of his mouth. Her smileis more demure. Her face is tilted toward his and she looks up at him through dark eyelashes, her eyes sparkling with obvious admiration.

Something about the scene unsettles me. Maybe it's simply the knowledge that this life can never be mine, but I fear it may be even more.

For instance, what happened to them to make them leave so suddenly? And what will happen to me now that I’m here?

I stare at their image for a long time, cataloging their features, committing them to memory. They looked so happy, but were they?

Day in and day out, the Omega Alliance forced me to put on a show for the watchers. But in truth, we all watch one another as we go about our lives, every single day. So what was this beta couple trying to convey to the world? And was it real, or were they hiding something terrible behind those glamorous smiles of theirs?

I guess I’ll never know. That’s part of life too. There aren’t always answers to every question. And for me, there are rarely any answers at all.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” a deep, husky voice says from across the room, making me jump in my skin. Before I can stop it, the picture falls from my fingers and crashes to the hard floor, shattering just like that door that led to my freedom.

Rather than turning to face the new arrival, I throw myself to the ground and begin gathering the pieces of broken glass. I feel as if I've somehow betrayed the people in the photo, that their memory was safe until I came along and destroyed it.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got it,” the alpha says, coming over to stoop beside me. He reaches for the frame, and I grab it from him protectively, piercing my fingertip on a jagged piece of glass in the process.

Hot red blood gushes onto the photo of that smiling couple, casting an ominous filter.

“Shoot, Sin. You’re bleeding,” the alpha says. Dani made introductions last night before I hurried off to bed, but I can’t remember anything now. I don’t even know this man’s name, but I watch as he jumps to his feet and hurries down the hall, presumably for the bathroom.

While he’s gone, I pry the photo loose from its broken frame, wipe off the remnants of my blood, and stick it in the waistband of my soft pajama pants. Somehow keeping this happy memory that belongs to someone else comforts me too. And right now I can use all the comfort I can get.

LEVI

“Shoot, Sin. You’re bleeding!” I exclaim, rushing off to the bathroom to grab some tissue so I can staunch the flow of blood. I also find a half-used bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small bandage, which I make quick work of bringing back to her.

When I return, she’s still stooped over the field of broken glass, staring at it intently like this unexpected accident holds some kind of deeper meaning for her life.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, kneeling at her side as I prepare to treat her wound. “I just saw you were up and figured I would come introduce myself. You know, properly."

I smile and offer a small wave, making light of the moment with the hopes it will put her at ease. “So let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Levi of Pack Thorin. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Sin,” she says on the wings of an exhale, offering me her hand so I can examine the cut.

I wrap her finger in tissue and squeeze to stop the bleeding. Her eyes rove across my face, then suddenly she gasps. “Youwere there yesterday. In the glass room. You were the fourth. You—”

“Infiltrated their private meeting to help with your escape,” I interrupt. I can’t let her think that I actually supported the way Pack James treated her, that I’d wanted to be a part of that depravity. “I was also in disguise. How did you recognize me?”

“The eyes,” she says simply, watching as I pull away the tissue and swab at the cut with some alcohol to sanitize it.

She hisses but doesn’t attempt to stop me.

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