Candy & Her Saints (Pack Bonds Omegaverse #7)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Dough Knot Bakery, Haven

C andy

“Do you think that a dating app can truly find your Alpha scent match?” My brother, Vito, frowns down at the profile on my phone.

His straight, black hair falls over his handsome face.

I smile, however, as hope surges through me. “It claims to have already found me the match. I’ve been talking to them through the app for the last couple of weeks to get to know them. He’s a good Alpha. He’s called Seven.”

Vito’s concerned ocean blue eyes, which are the same shade as mine, narrow. “Wait, Seven …? That’s your lucky number. Hmm, it seems a bit of a coincidence.”

“Must be fated, right?” I chuckle. “You worry too much.”

I focus on boxing up the leftover glazed donuts, giant chocolate chip muffins, and frosted cupcakes on the counter in the kitchen of the bakery that my brother and I run together.

The giant mixers and bread ovens are silent in the shadows of the evening, but the room is warm.

THE DOUGH KNOT is lit in pink writing underneath our donut logo, which is emblazoned along the back wall.

CANDY his familiar vanilla espresso scent washes over me. “I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t bond with him, Dy. That’s your choice. Just get to know more about him than his scent for me, okay? You’re kind, sweet, and see the best in people. Swear that you’ll kick his ass, you know? Just for me? A little bit? Think of how much I annoy you when I play Nirvana at 1 a.m., tickle you, or that time as kids that I accidentally deleted your Alphacraft computer world, which you spent almost a year designing.”

I knew it.

Sneaky asshole.

I gasp. “That was you? You’re admitting that now, viper?”

Viper, my nickname for my brother since we were kids.

“Shit, haven’t I already?” Vito hides his face more firmly against my neck. “Forget that last bit.”

I know why Vito thinks that me finding a pack bond is so important.

A real pack could protect me from Dad.

I wouldn’t belong to the Snakes anymore.

But Vito would. I can’t leave him behind.

I don’t say that.

Instead, I wipe the flour off my hands down my pink BADASS BAKER apron.

Vito bought the apron for me four years ago, on the day that we opened this bakery together, when I was seventeen and he was twenty.

Vito’s the best brother in the world because there was never any question that I’d be baking right alongside him, even though I’m his Omega Reject sister.

He stiffens like he’s expecting me to start trying out my ass kicking skills (and I do feel like it, remembering the awesome imaginary world that I designed on Alphacraft).

Instead, I pull him into a hug, nuzzling against his neck in turn.

Finally, I allow myself to purr.

When I’m embraced like this by my brother, it’s almost enough to forget the weight of the steel bracelet at my wrist that marks me out as a Reject Omega.

Almost enough to forget the twisted R , which hangs like an ugly charm from it, holding technology inside that will alert the government if I try to remove it.

Almost enough to forget the blush of shame.

There are two reasons to be marked as a Rej.

Be defective

Be rebellious.

Dad assigned me as a Rej 1.

I’m defective because I have an enhanced sense of smell. It’s what makes me an exceptional baker but also, why I’m slowly dying.

Vito hates to talk about that.

It’s okay. I do too.

I prefer to focus on the positives like how much I love this part of the day. It’s when our luxury bakery, the Dough Knot, has closed.

It’s when we get some time alone.

I take a deep breath of the warm, comforting scent of this back room kitchen, enjoying the familiar sweet scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and baked bread. It’s muted though because as well as wearing a pheromone blocker to hide my own scent, I have an expensive medical patch that mutes aromas plastered to my scent gland.

The effectiveness of the patch is wearing off though. My temples are beginning to throb. My mouth is dry, and my guts are roiling.

My condition is called Omega Hyperosmia Syndrome, or OHS.

All Omegas have a heightened sensitivity to smell and a strong reaction to pheromones. In many ways, it’s our superpower.

Omega instincts are powerful. I love mine.

When it’s extreme, however, it can be devastating.

An Alpha is angry? An Omega is distressed? There’s a crowd?

With OHS, strong pheromones are overwhelming.

They can knock me unconscious.

It’s so severe now that normal strong smells like cleaning chemicals and perfume can floor me.

The only way to stabilize it is to bond with a pack. Ultimately, if I don’t, then my nervous system will become so overwhelmed that I’ll die.

But I’m not ready to give up my independence.

Not yet.

After what Vito and I have been through, I know the value of freedom.

This is why Angel recommended the app to me.

It’s essential.

My last hope.

If a dominant enough Alpha with a good enough scent match can help me through my heats, then maybe I can survive a little longer.

I grit my teeth, as my knees begin to buckle with tiredness. “Let’s get back to work, huh?”

I’ve been up since before dawn baking. Yet no one knows that.

It’s a secret.

Everybody in Haven thinks that the Dough Knot is run by an Alpha who studied at culinary school.

The culinary schools are only open to Alphas and Betas.

The town folk of Haven have no clue that the genius baker behind the designs that have made our bakery the best in Virginia is actually an Omega.

Omegas are allowed to cook for their families but not to become professional chefs.

Fuck that.

Vito is known as the brilliant Alpha baker, while I’m his defective Reject sister who he kindly cares for, silent and invisible in the shadows.

At least, that’s what everybody thinks …

My lips pinch. “Come on, these boxes won’t pack themselves, and my head’s—”

“Are you okay?” Vito draws back, hurriedly.

I rub my head. “Hurts. Some nausea too.”

Vito lays his hand over mine. “Let me finish up here. Why don’t you take up the apple pie that’s left over for us to have for dessert, and I’ll cook tonight. Then you can chill in front of one of those ridiculous TV shows, which are all about soul mates falling into each other’s arms and onto each other’s knots. Sorry, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth there.”

“Such a romantic,” I tease.

He smirks. “Some of us aren’t brainwashed sheeple.”

“And some of us still believe in love, despite everything. At least for cute actors in movies.”

Vito winks. “If that includes my favorite movie star, Jex, because he’s fucking hot, then I’m not arguing. That’s one ass that I’d like to—"

“Stop talking about asses and start working.” I shove a pink box at Vito, blushing.

He laughs. “You’re no fun, sis.”

Vito’s wilder than me. I hope that one day he does find love.

Yet he’s been so focused on saving me and then running this business that he’s never been able to see beyond casual hookups.

He can’t imagine a fairy tale because our early lives, especially his, was more of a horror show.

“These are almost done.” I close the lid on a box of cupcakes that have blue icing on the top in swirls like two snakes.

These cakes are one of my designs: Candy and Viper Cupcakes.

They’re my favorite because they represent my brother and me. Kids love them.

My role in the business is to create new recipes and do the creative side. I order equipment, supplies, and ingredients, when we’re not in too much debt to afford them.

Vito deals mainly with the marketing, business, and bookkeeping.

We make a good team.

“These are for the new youth club for poor Omegas,” I explain. “If you could drop them off, before we have dinner. The muffins that you’re packing are for the Omega Society HQ across the road.”

Some people help the resistance by leading dangerous missions.

I help with baked goods.

But then, a rebellion can’t be led on an empty stomach, right?

Plus, there’s a benefit to being the ignored Rej, when you’re running a shop. People chat in front of you like you don’t exist.

I often overhear useful gossip from loose-lipped powerful customers who love to eat our luxury cakes. It’s easy for me to pass on the information to my brother, who in turn, can tell the resistance.

If we’re caught, then we’ll be executed.

The President has made national security on high alert against the resistance.

I’m not scared for myself. I’ve lived my entire life knowing that I could die.

Plus, within the Snake pack, life is cheap.

I’m scared for my brother, on the other hand, but he’s recklessly brave. He’d be insulted if I pointed out the risk.

I wrinkle up my nose. “Mrs. Chavez was in the shop again today, did you notice?”

Vito grimaces. “How could I miss her? I live for the praise of Alphas like her who criticize everything from my tattoos to the fact that I’m still single. She makes me feel all fuzzy and shit.”

“Lucky you don’t have a praise kink.”

“Hey, how’d you know? I may melt when someone whispers good viper at me.” He’s barely holding back from bursting into laughter as he says good viper in breathy tones.

“Please never say that again.” I nudge Vito with my shoulder. “And I wasn’t talking about her grumbling about the fact that we still don’t stock smoothies, only coffee. She simply won’t let that drop. I meant that she was moaning to her friend, while she waited for you to make up her order of cupcakes with strawberry frosting, about her poor Omega son again. She still hasn’t let him out of the attic.”

Vito’s jaw clenches. “Fuck, are you serious? His punishment has been going on for at least—”

“A month now,” I say, sadly. “She was going on and on about how worried she is that he’s slipping into rebellious ways of thinking. She’s terrified that he’ll become a Reject, if she doesn’t condition him to be more dynamic appropriate. She’s thinking about sending him to the Omega Institute for retraining.”

Vito hisses in a sharp breath.

In his distress, his scent becomes a stronger coffee. The sweet vanilla edge sours.

Nausea floods me. Bile rushes up my throat, and I gag.

“I’ll message Prince, my contact at the resistance.” Vito’s eyes darken to stormy blue in his rage. “Things aren’t changing fast enough. It’s the fucking mayor’s fault. His iron fist around this town and support for places like the Institute and Alpha Center encourages everyone to treat their packs like shit. Mayor St Clair is as corrupt and criminal as our own Snake pack. I’m going to get that Omega out, before he’s sent to the Institute to be conditioned to act like like some…”

“Sheeple?”

All of a sudden, a wave of scents — vanilla, apple, and fresh bread — hits me

My patch has worn off earlier than normal.

Is it the strong emotions that have been conjured up by the thought of that trapped Omega? Or the thought of the mayor who’s waging his own campaign against our bakery?

Shit, shit, shit.

I stumble to the side, trying to catch myself on the counter.

Overwhelmed, agony shoots through my head.

I cry out, as my knees buckle, and I fall to the wooden floor.

I’m shaking.

Nausea roils through me. I press my hand against my mouth to stop myself vomiting.

Faintly, I hear Vito cussing and scrambling across the room, followed by running water.

I can’t concentrate on that, however, only curling into as small a ball as I can. I press my face into my knees to block out the smell. I’m trying to breathe as little as possible, closing my eyes against the overwhelming sickness.

I’m clammy. My hair plasters down my neck.

Finally, I feel strong fingers swipe my hair to the side, followed by a cool, damp cloth on the back of my neck.

I whine at how good it feels.

Then a new scent repressing patch is pressed over my scent gland.

Vito slips onto the floor next to me, sliding his arm around my shoulders. “I’m so fucking sorry, Dy. I shouldn’t have pushed. I forget because you’re just fucking strong and… I’m sorry, okay?”

I nod, still unable to speak.

Slowly, the patch is seeping what I need through me. It’s helping me to function. The scents become muted again.

There’s a metallic taste in my mouth. I think that I bit my tongue.

At last, I risk lifting my head from my knees, peering through my long hair at my brother.

Vito looks suspiciously like he’s trying to hold back tears.

I won’t let him blame himself.

I hold up my shaky hand, weaving it from side to side and hissing.

Vito lets out a laugh that I pretend not to notice is close to a sob.

He holds his tattooed hand out next to mine, mimicking the move like we have ever since we were kids.

His hand snakes over mine.

“Sorry,” Vito hisses in a freakishly good snake voice.

“It’s okay, viper.” I struggle to get out the words; my tongue feels swollen. “You can do both the cooking and wash the dishes too tonight to make it up to me.”

“You drive a hard bargain. But deal.” Vito looks down, before adjusting the cloth on my neck. “I’ll hold back from judging this Seven…or tearing out his throat…if he helps your OHS stabilize. I know that he could be a literal lifesaver. I simply wish that you could find yourself an actual pack that you want to match with, rather than some wild playboy who joins a dating site like ABOinder.”

“A playboy like you , you mean? Look, I need this, and by my next heat. I’ve put this decision off as long as I can. I don’t want another pack. I have you. Plus, when it comes to love, we both know that I have that too. I’m already bonded in my heart.”

I fiddle with the Promise Bond Ring that I’m wearing on my thumb: A Beta and Omega Sign entwined in silver.

See, I’ve already promised to bond with a Beta.

It’s taboo for an Omega and Beta to bond without an Alpha. But Lincoln and I have never cared about society’s rules.

We’re both rebels and outsiders.

Lincoln has been my best friend and neighbor since I was a kid. His pack is poor and works as cleaners for the Snakes.

He was the cleaner’s Beta son, who I shouldn’t have noticed.

Instead, he became my everything.

He’s my boy with the silver eyes.

Yet I don’t even know where he is now.

Vito reaches for my hand, and I take it; I realize that his hand is shaking as much as mine is. “Link is like my kid brother. Don’t you think that I miss the hell out of him too? But he’s been missing for three years. We don’t know if he’s—"

“Don’t say it.” My voice wavers. A tear tracks down my cheek. “Please, viper. Please…just don’t.”

For a moment, I think that I’m going to hurl again.

My heart aches.

“You’re right.” Vito’s hand squeezes mine. “Link can take care of himself. He never stopped showing off that he was taller and twice as wide as me. He’s like a…”

“Gorgeous gargoyle.”

“I was going to say giant.” Vito gives a wry smile. “The point is that Link dedicated himself to protecting both of us like a fucking bodyguard, even though I should have been looking out for him. I’d never bet against him in a fight, even in high school. Whatever’s happened…”

“Whatever Dad made happen,” I mutter.

Vito wets his dry lips. “Yeah, whatever Dad and Link’s own bastard of an Alpha planned together, Link’s out there somewhere, and I bet that he’s battling to get back to you right now. So, that’s why you must hang on for him.”

Hang on for me.

I know that’s what Vito is saying.

Don’t die.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but I feel it in my soul like he’s screamed it.

I swallow. “I will, Vito. I’ll hang on…for Link. He’d punch your dick every day for the rest of your life, if he came back and found that I was gone. So, this is why I need to scent match and work out ways to get through my heats. Ways that won’t mean a permanent pack bond. I won’t abandon Link. He has so little. We promised that we’d be each other’s forevers. Do you understand?”

Vito’s gaze meets mine. “You know that I’d never force you into anything, Dy. If you tell me that Link and you are meant to be bonded, then I believe you. But he doesn’t have a knot, and you need one of those during heats, no matter how modern and radical your politics.”

“You’re sounding old-fashioned. Haven’t you heard of knotted dildoes?”

Vito puffs out his chest. “It’s not the same as the real thing, and the doctors say that you need that. At least let yourself have some fun too. You deserve it.”

“So do you.” I let my lips curl into a grin. “Are you back to talking about asses again?”

Vito laughs. “TMI, I don’t want to hear about Seven’s ass.”

“I didn’t want to hear about your knot, but life’s a bitch.”

All of a sudden, a pungent blast of burned coffee blasts through the room.

It’s the scent of angry Alpha.

Unfortunately, it’s one that I’m familiar with but would give anything not to be.

I whimper, clasping onto Vito.

My pulse skyrockets. My heart hammers in my chest.

Vito stiffens at the same time as I do.

It can’t be.

No.

Not now.

Please…

His usual time to extort the money isn’t for another fortnight.

We’re not ready. We don’t have enough in takings or savings to cover what he’s going to demand.

Vito’s breathing is ragged with terror. “Dad’s here.”