Page 4 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus
I'm almost twenty-five. It's nearly unheard of for an omega to reach my age without being matched, but there's no chance I'll find my future if I'm sitting around moping about the things that didn't work out. Even if I don't mesh well with a permanent pack, they'll have alphas on standby to help with my heat.
If I can't find a forever pack, maybe I can at least leave with the best gift my aching heart can imagine?
Chapter Two
Murphy
My back faces the room as I stare out the open door. The North Carolina mountains hold my attention better than whatever business my packmates are busy chatting about. The wind is biting as it laps at my face, but I don't mind.
"Are you listening?" Connor Hastings asks. My packmate sounds frustrated, which isn't unusual. He hates his job. Running a destination getaway for omegas in need sounds better than the reality of it.
I give him a grunt of acknowledgement and close the door. I toss myself down on my oversized chair. I love this chair. I'm a big guy, so the rest of our furniture feels like it was made for dolls or kids. Sure my chair gives a creak as I stretch back, but I know from experience it'll hold.
Connor huffs, swiping his black hair away from his face. He's not even thirty-three, but this job has aged him.
I wave a hand to tell him to get on with it. Kicking my giant boots up on my ottoman, I ignore the glare Archer Daniels sends my way.
Archie thinks it's uncouth to put shoes on the furniture, but he can get over it. This is my ottoman. I bought the damnthing because it was one of the few pieces of furniture that can successfully hold my big ass.
"We've had several offers," Connor says, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa. "I've spoken to my family, and they're in agreement that it's ultimately our choice. None of them has any financial stake in the lodge. Not anymore."
My jaw drops. Glancing at Archie, I see the same reflected back at me. Sure, Connor has complained at an increasing rate every year, but I never thought he'd actually consider selling the lodge.
We're a full-service getaway in the mountains offering skiing and snowboarding in the winter, and kayaking, hiking, and a bunch of other activities in the spring and summer. But I know that's not the side of the business Connor is desperate to get away from.
The opposite side of the lodge is The Omega Exchange. That's the portion of the business my packmate has come to loathe.
"You're seriously considering selling?" Archie asks. He adjusts the sleeves of his button-down shirt, frowning at Connor.
"I wasn't actively advertising," Connor says.
I don't like the sound of this one bit. The Exchange is only a small part of the business as a whole, but it's the piece that gives mehope.
In my early twenties, the prospect of commitment scared the hell out of me. Later into my twenties, it intrigued me. Now that I'm well into my thirties, I'm fucking desperate for it.
Give me bonds and promises of a future. I yearn for all of it in a way that's difficult to explain.
Women look at me and think one of two things. A huge number are afraid of my size and want nothing to do with me. The remaining few view my size as a challenge. It's somethingthey'd like to conquer, but the one thing both types have in common? Neither take the time to get to know the real me.
None of them want to be bonded to the giant, feral-looking alpha.
"No," Archie says, looking at me. "I'm not interested in selling. We haven't even found our omega yet! What would we do? Sign up with the OPA?"
The Omega Protection Authority is run by the government and it's highly regulated. It's also as corrupt an organization as you'll find. Alphas pay to be matched. Omegas have a choice, and pick their mates based on scent cards, but I don't much trust it.
Private companies have popped up, offering alternatives to the government-run program. The Omega Exchange is one such choice.
"If the ski lodge wasn't picking up the slack, we'd be in the hole for the third year in a row," Connor says, raising his dark eyebrows. "Without that side of the business we'd be losing money. You do understand that, right?"
"Somethings aren't about money," I tell him, swiping a palm over my face. My eyebrows rise, and I shoot him a meaningful look. He knows what I'm saying. The Exchange isn't about making money. It's about giving omegas a safe option outside the OPA.
"Go back to the way things used to be," Archie interjects. "You're the one who imposed the limits on the program. When your dads ran the place they never turned anyone away."
And they made plenty of money, that's the part Archie leaves unsaid.
Connor jumps to his feet and starts pacing. "You don't think I know that?" he asks, running his hand through his hair. "Look what it became because of that policy. It's a hook-up spot for spoiled omegas to find wealthy packs."
Neither of us speaks. He's right about that.
