Unbreak Me (Fate’s Choice #3)

DAY

The day was dragging mercilessly, though it had only been a few hours. During that time, I was ‘successfully’ ignored by every visitor. They just flowed around my booth like water around a rock, leaving me completely alone. I could stare at the ceiling, glance at the other omegas’ booths, or zone out blankly somewhere above everybody’s heads.

The only mildly interesting moment happened when Storm Nolan appeared, guiding a tiny omega through the dense crowd while shielding him with his massive arms.

And let me tell you, the guy was something else! Despite his small stature, he was strikingly beautiful—waist-length black hair, a flawless face. I could only guess this was ‘Mr. Ferro’, the one Nolan had been talking to on the phone earlier—the guy who was late to the fair. Interestingly, he was escorted to Section E. That meant he had to be over forty years old, though he didn’t look a day over thirty. Well, people like him probably wouldn’t have the slightest issue getting contracted.

He was seated in his booth, and immediately two alphas approached it. However, he obviously had to say no, as they walked away soon after.

A bit later, something else caught my attention—something equally strange. From where I sat, I could also see a distant part of Section A where Star Daniels was stationed at his booth. His information board was attracting plenty of alphas, as expected, but… for some reason, they all kept walking away.

It was peculiar. Why was he being ignored?

Mr. Ferro and Star were surely among the most attractive guys here, yet alphas were behaving very differently around their information boards. I observed the situation for a while. Mr. Ferro was sending away every alpha, but Star was never approached; they all left just after reading his board.

Finally, I couldn’t sit still. My curiosity got the best of me, and when some of the nearby booth attendants left for a brunch break, I seized the chance to sneak out. I made my way over to the crowded Section A to figure out what was going on.

Star was there, of course, sitting with that same expressionless, mask-like face. No change there. It was easy to imagine his cold demeanor wasn’t doing him any favors. But let’s be honest—any intelligent person could understand this was a high-stress situation, and people cope in different ways. His icy attitude could easily be a defense mechanism. No—there had to be more reasons for those alphas to leave.

And there were!

Ignoring Star’s dagger-like glare, I inspected his information board and saw the problem immediately:

Previous Jobs:

1 year—escort.

1 year—stripper.

So… ex-sex worker.

Yeah, I’d heard they were a tough sell at fairs like this. Alphas shelling out millions for omegas expected them to be, if not virgins, then at least without any history in the sex industry. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I glanced back at Star. His stunning looks couldn’t make up for those two lines on his résumé. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. His humiliation must’ve been even worse than mine. I was just flat-out ignored—no one even bothered to check my board. I didn’t have to deal with that repeated cycle of "Oh, someone’s interested… oh, no, they’re walking away again!" But Star? He was living through that over and over.

I could imagine that he was forced to be here, just as I was. We were Storm Nolan's batch of 'cases to salvage’. Either we show up, or we face the prospect of losing the penalty money from Fate's Choice for failing to match us.

Knowing that, I looked up again—and of course, Star was still watching me. I hesitated, then offered him a small, rueful smile. A smile that hopefully said, "I get it. I understand."

But he immediately looked away. I was pretty sure he understood the meaning of my smile, but he just wasn’t ready to accept anyone’s pity. I could respect that.

For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of searching for the last one of Nolan’s clients in the beta section, but I discarded it quickly. I had no idea what the guy looked like, though I was pretty sure his case wouldn’t be any easier than mine or Star’s.

I trudged back to my booth, feeling strangely better—like maybe my situation wasn’t the worst after all. Star definitely had it harder. At least Nolan made sure I had a comfortable spot, not so much in front.

And so I sat there, staring into space, chain-smoking cigarettes, and generally having uneventful hours.

I don’t know how long I was sitting like that when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone awkwardly leaning close to my information board.

He slowly raised his head, and our gazes crossed. And I trembled. A strange sensation, but I quickly shook myself out of it. It probably felt so surreal—like a shiver of excitement running through me—because, for the first time, someone read my board. That had to be the reason for my weird reaction. Someone was really interested?

But then I took a second look. Something wasn’t right. The guy was… well, very muscular, but too short to be an alpha. Alphas weren’t short—it was practically hard-coded into their genes. I’d read somewhere that half of alphas were 6’4"; the rest were between 6’5" and 7’5". Only a marginal 1% were 6’3". Exactly one tiny percent! For some genetic reason, alphas shorter than that were basically unheard of.

And this guy? He couldn’t have been more than five eleven or six feet tall at max.

So—a jacked beta. An alpha wannabe who insolently wandered into the omega section, checking us out.

Relationships with betas were heavily discouraged in ABO society since we had great hormonal differences and distinctive needs, and such couples had a very low success rate. Only a tiny percent of such relationships lasted longer than a decade. Either alphas or omegas—we weren’t just on the same page with them.

So. No way in hell was I going to accept a contract from a beta.

…Though I had to admit, the guy caught my eye. He was very handsome, and there was something about him—this gentle, yellow-lab energy—that reminded me of my ex.

No. Don’t even think about it, Day!

I was just about to say something through the intercom when the older omega employee who managed my booth and a few others around suddenly materialized out of thin air. He said something to the beta, who looked startled and started to walk away.

Phew! A close call. I was glad he was gone.

But for some reason, my eyes followed him as he hurried away. Something squeezed in my chest, painfully. Just a beta, for fuck’s sake!

Wait!

A ridiculously tall silhouette appeared in the distance—Storm Nolan himself, practically ‘storming’ down the aisle in pursuit of the beta.

Was he crazy?! I’d made it very clear in my initial questionnaire—no betas! What the hell was going on?

As they exchanged some words and got closer, I slammed the intercom button and hissed, "No! No betas!"

My tone was sharp, like a whip blow.

The beta’s face crumpled like I’d slapped him hard. He paled, blinking a few times.

And my heart sank. Why the fuck did I do it so rudely?

The guy was innocent, after all—just guilty of being a beta. He hadn’t meant any harm. Maybe he even liked something about me? Perhaps he had some foolish dream of creating something with an omega, but… I wanted children, and betas were infertile. I wasn’t the one for him.

And anyway, I wasn’t planning on finding anyone here, so why even bother?

Still, how harshly I’d shut him down didn’t sit right.

I clenched my jaw as I watched him sprint away—literally sprint—like he was afraid of me.

The twisting in my guts made me swallow hard. Oh, well… but what was said was said—too late to take it back.

I quickly glanced aside, not wanting to watch him disappear into the crowd along with the hopes I’d just crushed.

Nolan turned to me then, his glowing eyes narrowing in anger. His jaw twitched, muscles working as if he wanted to say something—but at that moment, his phone rang. He walked off in a hurry, leaving me alone again.

For the next few minutes, I sat there, feeling strangely all over the place.

I forced myself to feel glad I’d fended off that beta, rationalizing it hard . He was probably just a poser or a freak, pretending to be something he wasn’t! The last thing I needed was some delusional beta buying my contract and causing problems during my heat. I’d spent the past decade dealing with it alone, and I was tired of it. My collection of dildos barely fit under the bed as it was.

If someone was going to buy my contract, he needed to be an alpha. And it wouldn't even happen here, at this stupid fair, but at some other respectable matchmaking agency. This was all one big waste of time.

I just had to wait it out.

Would the rest of the day be the same? Stuck in this stupid booth, watching a stream of people pass me by? Observing other omegas constantly attracting new candidates? Even my immediate neighbor—the legless omega—had found himself a partner! Though, the alpha looked like a guy with a kink.

My strategy of smoking in the booth with a rude grimace on my face worked like a charm, keeping alphas away. After the situation with the Fergusons, I couldn’t stop anyway. It was how I coped with stress.

As another quarter of an hour passed, my irritation strangely grew.

What was wrong with me?! I didn’t want any suitors anyway, so why was I so flustered about the beta situation?

My mind kept popping this question: Why did he have to be a beta?! Finally, someone did notice me!

He should have been an alpha, for fuck’s sake.

I wasn’t desperate enough to settle for a beta.

Yet.

My God, what was happening? Did I secretly hope to find somebody here, after all?

Was my subconscious sabotaging my own plan?

Unable to sit still in my chair, I had to move, to burn off some of the frantic energy buzzing in me. So, I stepped outside and lit another cigarette, taking deep breaths and brooding. There were other omegas around, smoking and chatting, but naturally, I ignored them. All dressed to the nines, like they were auditioning for a movie. I just didn’t fit in.

Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. Along the metal fence separating the smoking area from the side exit path, a lone figure was walking slowly, hunched.

It was him—the yoked beta.

Fuck. Seeing him again, leaving the fair alone, sent a weird wave of irritation through me, along with some unwelcome exuberance. And, unfortunately, regret. Because… well, he was a looker. For a beta, the guy was impressive—broad shoulders like an alpha’s, powerful muscles that screamed ‘gym rat’, and honestly, a face to die for. Handsome, classical features. Thick golden-brown hair, like a lion’s mane.

Feeling a stabbing pain as he headed away, I forced myself to tear my gaze from him and go back inside, but he kept popping into my thoughts.

Why? I’d made up my mind from the start: alphas only. No exceptions. But the fucking frustration bubbled up inside me until it felt like I was going to explode.

Gosh, why had I even agreed to this circus? Screw the penalty fine. Screw Fate’s Choice!

Just as I was about to grab my stuff and bolt, my jaw dropped.

Nolan was heading toward me with a round redheaded omega by his side. And… the yoked beta.

The fuck? What was happening? Hadn’t I been crystal clear about my preferences?

Yup, I should’ve been livid, but instead, I felt a mix of mild irritation, curiosity, and, annoyingly, a little excitement.

Nolan looked ready for battle, his expression tight. He swung the door open sharply and let it close behind him with a thud, tension practically etched into his forehead.

Before he could speak, I growled, "I don’t want him! I said no betas."

"Would you just listen—"

"No, you listen!" My voice spiked as anger boiled over. "You dragged me to this fair, but I’m not letting you push betas on me. I’m not spending another heat writhing in pain. Unless," I added with a sharp smirk, "you’re volunteering to keep me company. Though I’m guessing he wouldn’t be too thrilled about that," I said, gesturing to the redhead.

Nolan stood his ground, his tone sharpening. "Would you shut up and let me finish? He’s not a beta! He’s just… a short alpha."

That stopped me cold. Silence. I blinked at him, stupefied. Honestly, I wasn’t even mad that he snapped at me—after all, I’d been pushing his buttons all day. But still, I wasn’t expecting that. Wave of relief, wave of hope?

Nope. I stopped it.

"An alpha?" I stammered. "What’s wrong with him?"

Nolan rolled his eyes. "Nothing. He seems perfectly healthy. Maybe it’s just a case of short family genetics."

"But that’s, like, a thing! Alphas are supposed to be tall. I’ve never seen one shorter than 6’4"."

"Me neither, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. It’s rare, sure, but it happens. Now, I hope you’re not hinting that you don’t want to talk to him?" His voice dipped with warning. "He appears perfectly normal. And I have a feeling there won’t be any issues with your heat," he added quite venomously.

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms. "I’m filing a complaint about your rudeness—"

Nolan just smirked. "Feel free to do it. I’m a shareholder now, so good luck getting me fired." He leaned in slightly, arms crossed. "Now focus. Do you want to talk to him or not? He deserves a chance after you treated him like crap."

I let out an exasperated huff, biting my lip.

What the hell was happening, was I seriously considering this?

"It’s just… weird. Are you sure he’s an alpha? Maybe it’s some pheromone spray trick or something. From a distance, he looks like a beta."

Nolan clenched his jaw, but before he could blow up, I quickly added, "Okay, okay! Chill, Storm… hold your thunders. If you’re sure he’s an alpha, I’ll trust you!"

We exchanged rather intense gazes. I glanced sideways toward the guy standing outside, conversing with the redhead omega.

"Listen," I muttered. "The problem is, I’m on suppressants. I have no way of telling if he’s compatible or not. So it’s all pointless anyway. I can’t pick him, or anybody else, for that matter."

Nolan furrowed his brow and snorted. "Excuse me? You didn’t seem to care before. You just wanted a wide pool of candidates!"

Fuck, and now I had to admit it.

"It was bullshit. I never thought anyone would show interest. I didn’t take this seriously," I blurted out, feeling strangely ashamed. "I don’t want to give the poor guy hope and then send him away. It’s a shitty thing to do."

Nolan pressed his hands to his temples. "What the fuck? You can’t be serious! Did you want to scam us?"

My silence had to be answer enough.

He leaned a bit over me, his eyes crazily focused on my face. "I will tell you this—I bet my whole life, all I have, that you and him are compatible. I told you about my abilities. You just have to trust me on this. If I’m wrong, I’ll refund both of you and personally see to nullifying the contract. Deal?"

I burst out laughing. "Are you crazy? You can’t promise something like that!"

His face didn’t even twitch. "I can. Give him a chance, Day. You won’t regret it, I swear it."

Our eyes stayed locked for a moment before I shocked myself by hissing through my teeth, "Okay, madcap! Bring him in."

Yes, I said it.

What happened to my plan to send all the candidates away, grab the penalty from Fate’s Choice, or run away from the fair like an enraged lunatic, for that matter?

Let’s face it—I was all over the place. And I blamed Storm for it.

Relief spreading across his face only miffed me further.

"Perfect!" Nolan let out a loud breath. "I’ve got a strong feeling about him. He could be IT for you."

Feeling jittery, I grimaced. "It? So this would be… ‘him’? My promised Prince Charming? My knight in shining armor? Because he looks more like a dwarf on a donkey."

Nolan closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten before answering. "Day, can you not insult the guy before you even meet him?"

I waved him off. "Alright, alright. Sorry. Bad joke. Bad day. Bad fucking decade! Bring him in. I’ll talk to him."

Nolan let out another obnoxious sigh. "Thanks. I really appreciate you giving this a shot." I could tell it took a lot for him to sound polite again. By now, he probably hated my guts. Perhaps rightly so.

With a quick gesture, he motioned for the short alpha to come in.

The man stepped in, hesitating slightly, his heart pounding wildly. Of course, the first thing I did was school my face to look unapproachable. Just in case.

Nolan nudged a stool toward the short alpha with his foot and, a bit awkwardly, introduce him.

The guy—Jan Wilson—started talking about his education and job but abruptly stopped. His eyes met mine, and for some reason, I felt… off. A weird uneasiness washed over me, like something sharp had just cut through the air between us.

And then things got really weird.

My vision went blurry, and suddenly, it was like I could feel him holding me amidst the storm. Strong arms wrapped around me, his handsome face close, smiling softly. It felt warm, safe—like being curled up in a blanket at home. And inside me? This rising, overwhelming urge to kiss him, to drown in his warmth…

His lips moved over my skin, caressing it… Stop!

What the hell was happening to me? Was I seriously daydreaming right now?

He started to pull me out of the vision with the sound of his voice, saturated with pain.

"You're probably wondering why I don't look like a typical alpha," he muttered.

Blinking, I finally came out of my daze.

"I’m aware, I’m usually taken for a beta," he pushed out, a bit breathlessly.

It dawned on me—this was probably something he dealt with all the time . People mistaking him for a beta, judging him, undervaluing him. And here I was, doing exactly the same, just adding to the pile.

With sharp attention, I focused on his face, studying him closely as he continued to speak.

The more I stared, the more I noticed it—the weight of years of being overlooked, the continuation of that lifelong oppression present in his body language. He seemed low-key depressed, but for the most part, he hid it from the world.

In the meantime, I couldn’t help but notice his physical attributes.

Jan’s skin had the kind of light bronze tan you get from working outside a lot, and it was smooth and youthful. His eyes were light gold, almost lion-like. His lips were full and perfectly shaped, and his nose had a clean, straight line to it.

He gave off this classy attractiveness , and fuck—I was attracted to him. Strongly! An embarrassing vision of touching his skin, his sensual lips, appeared before my mind's eye, but I quickly shooed it away.

And more than that… there was this energy about him that stirred something deep inside me, making me fully believe what Storm said: I was almost certain Jan and I were biologically compatible.

However, the main problem remained firmly in place—I still didn’t know the guy.

That should be my biggest concern now. I came here determined not to choose a husband after just a five-minute conversation!

"…but I am an alpha by genetics," he finished, this time very firmly, straightening his back.

In a bit of a daze, I kept staring at him, probably looking dumb. Let’s face it—if attractiveness were rated on a scale of 1 to 10, Jan Wilson would win with me. He was way out of my league, even considering his height.

"When I was fifteen, I hit six feet tall. I probably would’ve grown taller—my brothers are both 6'6". But then I had this accident, and it damaged my spine. I couldn’t walk anymore." He paused, his expression hard to read. "Luckily, my uncle, who was a doctor, got me into a therapy program through Malden Pharmaceutical. I was part of Blue Lowen's experimental group —the one that won him the Nobel Prize in Medicine. His breakthrough in nervous tissue regeneration saved me. It truly worked; his technique healed the damaged nerves in my spine. But the side effect was… it stopped my growth permanently. So I stayed six feet tall, just like I was when I was fifteen."

A total jerk—that’s how I felt now for how I’d treated him earlier. I remained quiet, unsure of what to say. Since we’d never met before, I couldn’t think of a way to show sympathy to a stranger, that wouldn’t sound fake.

Thankfully, Nolan stepped in. "I’m really sorry," he said. "But the important thing is your spine was saved, and you’re able to move freely now. Blue Lowen is really a genius!" he declared with a peculiar grimace, as if he wanted to add something about the man but decided otherwise.

Jan nodded. "Yeah. Now I can live and work normally. I’ve got full mobility, and my spine’s fine. But my height is a constant reminder of how different I am. People mistake me for a beta all the time." His voice turned bitter—it was clear this had been weighing on him for years.

"Maybe that’s why my love life hasn’t worked out," he continued. "People expect perfection, right? Or perhaps it wasn’t just the height. Maybe I couldn’t hold on to them. Insecurities have a way of messing with you, even if you don’t realize it. Possibly, that’s all this is—an excuse." He dropped his head slightly, his voice soft. "So, yeah, I’m still alone."

He looked away, and the sadness in his posture, his pain, his self-doubt—they were strangely mirroring my own. And it affected me in a way I didn’t expect.

On a deeper level, I understood him.

After a short pause, Jan straightened up a little. "I won’t lie. My uncle pushed me to come here. I didn’t expect much—how can you know a person after a few minutes’ conversation and then make a serious decision? But here I am."

What? The guy had exactly the same thought process as mine, which was a bit eerie.

"Moreover, I don’t have enough money for a marriage contract with an omega closer to my age, so I wandered here by chance, and suddenly saw—"

Nolan raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "How much money are we talking about?" Well, in Nolan’s line of work, the client’s wallet mattered a lot.