Page 43 of Redeeming His Omega Mate

I fought the urge to grab her wrist, to pull her back and demand answers. But she was right, this wasn’t the time.

By the time we arrived at the slums, the streets were already alive with activity. Omegas were out with brooms and buckets, scrubbing and sweeping, while children darted between them, handing out water to the elders. Women cleared debris from the roads, and men balanced on ladders, patching up buildings.

I arrived with the wiremen and woodcrafters, Betas skilled in their trades, tasked with improving the electricity and repairing homes. I had learned that most houses here relied on lanterns at night, and that needed to change. More than anything, I hoped that working together, Betas and Omegas, wouldn’t just teach them new skills but also force them to interact and see each other beyond their ranks.

This wasn’t just about fixing buildings. It was about building something more.

Wary glances followed me as I stepped onto the road, whispers passing between them in hushed tones. I doubted any of it was good, but I wasn’t fazed. Instead, I flashed them a smile and kept walking, moving deeper into the street.

One by one, they paused what they were doing, their eyes trackingmy every step. By the time I reached the center of the clearing and stopped, all work had come to a halt.

They were waiting. Watching.

Anticipating what I would do next.

And then, from somewhere in the crowd, a single voice spoke up.

“We don’t want you here, Alpha Damian. Go back to your mansion!”

A few voices murmured in agreement, but thankfully, the protest didn’t last long.

Once it quieted, I cleared my throat to speak. “I know what you’re all thinking,” I spoke in a voice that carried across the street, making sure everyone heard me. “You probably didn’t expect the guy who was hauled out of here to show up again two days later.”

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, some hesitant, some genuine. The resistance was still there, but at least I had their attention.

“But I’m here,” I continued, glancing around, meeting as many wary gazes as I could. “And I’m here because I meant what I said before. I want change. Not just words, not just promises. Actual, real change. And I won’t stop until we achieve it.”

A few murmurs passed through the crowd, but no one spoke up. I took that as a sign to continue.

“I heard Labor Day is fun here,” I said, flashing a small smile. “So, I figured, why not join in?”

I gestured to the workers behind me. “I brought wiremen and woodcrafters to help. We know a lot of the houses here don’t have proper electricity, and some of the buildings need repairs.”

A long moment of silence followed. There was apparent hesitation in their eyes, doubt, and reluctance to trust. I understood perfectly.

I clapped my hands together. “Now, I also owe you an apology about the supplies. Things didn’t go as planned, and I acknowledge that as a failure on our part. But we’re here now with double the supplies, and I promise, this time, everyone will get something.”

That seemed to break some of the tension. The wariness was still there, but at least they weren’t outright rejecting me.

“So,” I said, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. “Let’s get to work.”

People slowly started moving again. It wasn’t instant, and there were still some skeptical looks, but at least they weren’t telling me to leave. The wiremen got to work setting up the electricity, and the woodcrafters started assessing the houses that needed repairs. Some Omegas hesitated before approaching them, but soon, small groups started forming, working together.

I spotted Tala crouched among a group of children, her hands covered in dirt as she helped them shape mud bricks. The kids were chattering excitedly around her as she laughed at something one of them said.

I made my way over, shoving my hands into my pockets as I stopped beside her. “Need an extra pair of hands?”

Tala glanced up, and the smile on her face slowly waned. For a second, her lips parted as if she were about to say no, but then she sighed and scooted over slightly. “Only if you’re actually going to help.”

I smirked. “I’m offended. I’ll have you know I’m great with my hands.”

One of the kids, a boy who looked about seven, wrinkled his nose. “You don’t look like you’ve ever touched mud before.”

I chuckled. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Without another word, I crouched down and plunged my hands into the damp earth. It was cold and thick between my fingers, and the kids all giggled at the way I hesitated for a moment before I started shaping a brick.

I glanced up to see Tala watching me with an amused expression, but as is the norm now, when our eyes connected, she looked away, focusing on molding a brick. Her hands moved with practiced ease, and I found myself watching her more than the work. She was completely in her element here, calm, steady, and patient as she guided the kids. But then a voice cut through the air.

“You stole my brick!”

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