Page 1 of The Omega's Contract

one

Darion

She doesn’t belong here. I focus on the way she huddles in on herself as she studies the room, peering through the smoke and searching the shadows, like she’s never seen a place like this, and maybe she hasn’t. It’s naïve, it gives her away, screams, ‘I’m out of place, I don’t belong.’ One slender arm rises and pushes back the curtain of ginger hair as she turns in my direction. She’s captivating. I’ve seen her before, but our paths haven’t crossed yet. I don’t move, nor do I breathe as I wait. Anticipation brings the room into sharp detail. She’s here, and it’s for one reason, and that reason is my pack.

I inhale the air, desperate to catch her scent, but the betas, alphas, and alcohol smother any suggestion of it.

Come here and play, little girl.

I crush the thought instantly, she’s out of her depth, and I don’t play with cute little betas with huge terrified eyes. I shift slightly, drawing the wary eyes of people standing close to our booth.

A familiar face comes on the TV in the room's corner. The local front runner for senate, Judge Nelson Fields. He smiles with smug joy as he schmoozes for the camera. His face steals my attention from her, but only for a second. I want the job, his Gala that he’s holding soon. I want our pack to run security. He is our foot in the door, the job I’ve been working for almost a decade for, but not tonight.

“And just like we did in the West Inner City suburbs, we want to tackle the East Districts. We want to stop crime, the disappearances, the gangs and packs that rule lawlessly. We’re aiming to make Silver Hills City pristine once more, safe for all.” I roll my eyes at the wannabe’s speech. He’s promising rainbows where there are nothing but black storm clouds.

I focus all my attention back on the beta.Look at me.

Like I’ve summoned her, she turns towards me, her gaze settles and holds. I wait for the beta to drop her eyes. The power of an alpha stare, even across a club, should cow her, but she holds it. Curiouser and curiouser. Her gaze is hesitant and then grows stronger, like she’s found what she seeks.

My lips curl into a mocking smile, and I see a flicker of something cross her face. It’s gone before I can establish what it is.

A growl rumbles through my chest, and several betas close jump and eye me like I’m a dangerous predator. I watch her, this prey of mine, as she weaves her way towards me. She’s hot, I decide, and pick up my beer, drinking until my glass is empty. Hot but trouble, with those skin-tight jeans and that glitter top that’s exposing far too much of her spine. I want to bend her over our table and lick all the exposed flesh.

But I don’t touch people I don’t trust. It’s one of my most absolute rules. This is new and different for me, and while the temptation of seeing what’s on offer is tantalizing…she’s not getting what she wants from me, and I simply don’t have time.

I let out a whistle, low and almost inaudible, unless you are a few feet away from me. Lukas lifts his head, instantly alert, ready to attack. Pale green eyes like chips of ice search the room and settle unerringly on her. His temper that is barely kept in check and almost never when in here edges into the critical zone. Seb, our third pack mate, shifts his immense bulk, leaning in and crowding against Lukas. Seb inhales deeply, his chest expanding and nostrils flaring as he, too, catches sight of her. Their scents strengthen and then settle into the air, fading as if there wasn’t a moment of almost violence.

It’s taking forever, too long, not long enough. I admire the long length of her legs, the curves of her body. She’s not slender, more solid, but with soft curves that I want to trace with my fingers. But I don’t do regret, and that is what tampers any desire I might have to be inclined to play with this little siren.

I’ve had enough fear in my life. I don’t want any fucking more.

She’s not exactly pretty, either, she’s…compelling. She exists as if it doesn’t matter that her family lost all their money and are living dirt poor, as if her father didn’t humiliate and throw their beta daughter into the wild to save them. As if her mother doesn’t fuck anything that presents itself. She still looks like she could own the whole damn world. A queen without a throne.

Why do I want to give her one?

She stops in front of our booth, her eyes, a strange combination of green and gold, slide over the other members of my pack before meeting my gaze and holding it. No looking away in demure shyness, no, this woman meets my eyes and holds the gaze. A deep warning rumble erupts from my chest as the scent of raspberries and vanilla floods the surrounding air.

My mouth waters, and my cock jumps in my pants. That scent! I’ve never smelt anything like it. I inhale again, really taking it in. Her eyes flicker to Lukas and Seb before she looks at me again with her nerves rattled.

“Missy Clark, oldest daughter of Uriel and Margo Clark, who lost all their money in an investment con they should have seen through and plunged the entire family into financial ruin.” My words are cruel reminders of her fall from grace. Not that she had far to fall, the difference between surviving in poverty and drowning in poverty is a meal and a safe place to sleep. I want them to hurt her. I want her to turn and run away and never come back, she’s a distraction I do not need. Not now when we’re so close.

Missy’s lips curl into a smile. She looks amused at my knowledge rather than intimidated, and I find myself intrigued. “You simplify it far too much. The story is much more interesting when you are abandoned by family and friends, blackmailed by corrupt cops and loan sharks, and selling everything they own in order to rent the new hovel we currently call home.” She leans in like she’s sharing a secret. “Trust me, the story is much more exhilarating this way.”

I rub my top lip with the side of my index finger and nod. “You’re right, your version makes better television.”

Missy smiles widely, and I feel my cock twitch, harden in my jeans. I want her, but I won’t have her. I am not a slave to my baser instincts. I’m not a slave to the alpha inside me.

“But you are Darion Sky of Pack Raptore, Lukas Millswood of pack Raptore, and Sebastian Wells of Pack Raptore. A pack that’s grown from nothing, from here, the ass end of Silver Hills City. You know what it’s like.” She presses, and I gather this is pertinent to her argument. “You helped our community, protected it, grew your business. You’re legends in our world. Alphas with morals, with ethics. Alphas people are scared to cross.”

She exhales gustily and glances at Lukas. I feel him stiffen beside me, a low growl in his throat as he watches her. Predatory, she’s in his sights. He’s locked on, and she still hasn’t had the damn foresight to drop her fucking eyes and stop challenging the alphas inside us.

Her reaction is more interesting than his. Goosebumps spread across her arms, and she shivers. I catch a hint of something sweet and smooth before it vanishes.

“May I?” she says a bit breathlessly and slides into the booth, sitting opposite me. She doesn’t stop there but brazenly reaches for the glass that’s replaced the empty beer I drank. There is a spray of freckles across her face, and I map them out in fascination. “I’m requiring your services.”

I cock my head to the side and smile. “Sweetheart,” I don’t miss how the word makes her swallow hard, “you have nothing to barter with.” The alpha in me rises, staring her down.

This time, she glances at Seb. He’s huge, silent, and terrifies everyone. I expect her to cower. She’s not afraid. She’s…curious. The sweeter version of her scent wraps around me, and now I’m painfully hard. My control is shattering. I put my glass down, drawing her attention back to me again, and let out another growl that causes her to flinch.

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