Before the Auction
Stanley
“ T he stage looks good,” Bear says from the back of the SUV.
Sitting in the passenger seat, I look up from my phone, taking in the well-constructed stage in the distance. The usual large lights and concrete barriers surround it. The seating in front of the stage is all arranged. Not too packed, but the chairs are close enough to give the bidding alphas a sense of urgency.
I take in the rest of the camp, nodding in approval. Angelica picked a good location.
It’s a shame the whole thing is illegal because there’s so much more I’d like to do with this business. I want to expand, maybe even push south, but it’s safer up north. The laws here are loose at best and rarely enforced. Moving anywhere else would mean having one of the governance boards on my ass and the fees for trafficking unlicensed omegas are ridiculous. I’ll never understand why they care.
Yuki thinks the government just wants to control who fucks who. And maybe they do. But my operation is so much better than theirs. The alphas get to select their mates based on scent and attraction. Not endless surveys and intrusive background checks at some sterile academy for overly trained omegas.
Yes. My way is much better. It’s more natural, even primal.
“Do you need me for this?” Yuki asks as she parks the car. She hates coming here. She says the scent of distressed omegas makes her sick, but all unmated omegas are distressed. Finding them a mate is the only way to fix them.
“You can stay in the car,” I tell the she-alpha as I check out her tits in her skin-tight shirt and snug leather pants. She always looks so fucking good.
Yuki nods, and her chest falls with relief. It’s funny seeing such a powerful woman so scared of a few frightened omegas.
I pull down the visor, checking my reflection in the tiny mirror. I check that my hair is still brushed back and that my part still looks good. Then I step out of the SUV. “Let me know if you change your mind,” I say to my she-alpha with a teasing lift in my voice. “I’ll gladly come back and hold your hand,” I smirk.
“Fuck off.” Yuki scowls at me, not liking it when I treat her as anything other than the powerful alpha she is. But the black-haired beauty is stunning when she’s pissed, so I keep doing it.
I adjust my tie and button my suit jacket as we walk. Bear is quiet, watching everyone work with a discerning eye. The big alpha combs the underside of his black beard with his fingers. Then he smooths it, making sure he looks presentable. While he doesn't have any interest in the omegas, there’s always a pretty beta that catches his eye. I used to get pissed when he’d fuck the employees, but now I ignore it. The alpha clearly needs to work out some aggression, and this is as good a way as any.
“They set up the medical tent pretty far away this time,” Bear says, looking at the far end of the camp.
“Angelica is simply taking advantage of the space,” I say as we walk past the stage.
Bear’s mouth pulls into a tight line, his big biceps flexing under his thin black t-shirt. He hates it when I defend Angelica in any way. I’m convinced the two had a thing once, but Bear won’t admit to it. It’s a shame. I’d love to hear about the two sexy alphas, covered in sweat and fighting over who got to dominate who, but Bear never shares stories about his past lovers with me. I fucking hate it.
“Mr. Stanley!” Angelica’s sultry voice drifts from the entrance of the display room. It’s not actually a room but a massive canvas tent, filled with the finest omegas for our customers to scent. But if you slap a fancy label on something, people will eventually buy it.
“How are things?” I ask Angelica as she struts toward me. Her dress is extra tight today, showing off her big tits and fat ass. She’s got the kind of hourglass figure most men go wild for.
“Everything is running as smooth as always.” Angelica smiles, flashing her bright white teeth.
“I’m going to check the display room,” Bear says, refusing to make eye contact with Angelica. The man moves through the crowd of betas setting up, his mighty body towering over everyone he passes.
Angelica bristles in his direction, but she doesn’t say a word. Always the professional.
“How is the merchandise?” I push my hand into the breast pocket of my suit and pull out a silver cigarette case. I open it then slip a cigarette between my lips. Angelica pulls a lighter out of her pocket, lighting it for me. The she-alpha doesn’t smoke, but she’s always ready to light mine.
“Dr. Plume is prepping the newest omegas now.” Angelica steps to one side, motioning for me to take the lead. “The pieces for the display room have been selected and dressed, and the catalog for the auction is done.” She smiles with those glossy red lips.
Two betas pass us, ducking their heads in a show of submission. Their arms are weighed down with stacks of white linen tablecloths. I watch them, not taking my eyes off the pair as they make their way toward the display room. They push into the tent, giving me a glimpse of twinkling lights and an impressive chandelier. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with enough scaffolding and a few generators.
“We did get a new piece in,” Angelica says, but there’s something off in her voice. It’s a tone I know all too well.
“Yeah?” I brace myself, taking a long pull off my cigarette. “What’s wrong with her?” Hopefully, not much. Scavenged omegas are rarely in good health.
“Well,” Angelica gives me a pointed look, “ he ,” she exaggerates the omega’s gender, “arrived this morning. He’s not in the best condition. A bit sickly, but we’ve sold worse.”
“A male?” I’m intrigued. Omegas in general are rare, but male omegas are almost nonexistent in the wild. They’re rumored to be an amazing fuck, but they’re awful breeders. Alphas looking to start a family don’t waste their time or money on males, so they can be hard to sell. “How bad is he?” I ask, hoping the omega can be salvaged.
“He’s thin and underdeveloped.” Angelica grimaces, and my hope dies. “But he’s of age,” she quickly adds. “Once he’s cleaned up, I think he’ll be okay for the auction. He won’t be in the catalog, but we can place him at the end.”
“You don’t think we should wait until next month?” I ask. “He’ll be a pain in the ass to sell anyway, but if we can find a collector, he might make more money if he’s in better health.”
Angelica nods as if that’s an excellent point, but then she says, “Henley Meyers is attending tonight.”
I perk at the name. “Really?” I try to remember the last time I saw him at an auction. Two, maybe three months ago. He was looking for a previously mated omega who was lactating. We were able to supply a mated one with exceptional tits, but lactating was way too specific of a request.
The fucker has weird taste.
“Has he already used up his last omega?” I ask as we make our way past the kitchen. It’s not a proper space, but rather a large open campfire with several different types of meat roasting on a spit. The long tables in front of the fire are loaded down with all kinds of dishes with massive kegs of imported beer on either end. The alphas who attend the auctions don’t come here for the food, but they’re easier to please with a full belly.
“Who knows what he does with his omegas?” Angelica shrugs as she passes the open bar.
A few familiar alphas sit, drinking their beer and laughing loudly. “But I did hear a rumor that Henley was interested in a male.” She cuts me a knowing look with those bright blue eyes. “Not to mention that we’re a little low on supplies,” she says, trying to talk me into including the male now. “If enough alphas miss out on buying a female, they might settle for a male out of desperation. No matter how bad a state he’s in.”
I think that over, deciding she might be right. But I need to see how bad this omega is first.
“I think once you see him, you’ll agree,” Angelica says as if she can read my mind. Hell, maybe she can. She’s been running my market for almost five years now. She knows just as well as I do what sells and what doesn’t. “Putting the male in the auction tonight is for the best. Holding on to him will cost us more money for an omega we won’t get much for anyway.”
Gripping the heavy canvas flap, I flick my cigarette onto the ground, then step into the medical tent. The smell of drugged omegas is like nothing else. It’s thickly sweet but absent of all fear. It also doesn’t hold any arousal, but it still makes my balls ache and my canines tingle.
“No alphas in here,” Dr. Plume’s stern voice cuts through the otherwise quiet tent. He scowls as he leans around a partition, but then his dark eyes widen with surprise when he sees me, making the anger between his brows lift. “Stanley!” He smiles at me like we’re old friends. We’re not, but whatever keeps the good doctor happy and working. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
I give the beta a simple nod as I glance around the spacious tent. The partitions block my view of the cots, but I can still see the faint outline of my precious omegas, waiting to be sedated, collared, and groomed.
“How are things?” I cross the room, stepping around the partition to see who Plume is working on. A small, red-haired omega lies on the cot with a sheet draped over her naked body. Her eyes are glossed over, and her mouth is slack. “Is everyone in good health?” I ask the doctor as I pinch the omega’s chin, rolling her head from one side to the other. She moves easily for me, completely doped up.
“Everyone is ready,” Dr. Plume says with obvious pride in his work. “Did Angelica tell you about the new omega we just got in?” He slips a thick leather nape-guard around the omega’s neck, securing it in place. They’re a vital piece of equipment at the Morder. They protect the merchandise from any forced matings before the bill is paid.
“Angelica mentioned a male.” I lift the sheet to examine the redhead. She looks good. Perky breasts and only a few scars on her forearms and hips. She’ll do well in the display room. “Where is he?” I carefully place the sheet back over the omega, making sure to cover her chest.
“Right this way, sir,” Dr. Plume says, obviously eager to show me.
Angelica finishes her rounds, then follows us to the other side of the tent. A thin wall, constructed out of flimsy particle board, separates the main area from a makeshift isolation room.
Lying on a metal table is a small, naked male omega. I’m disappointed to see that he isn’t anything especially impressive, but he’s not ugly either. His soft skin is flushed pink, and his eyes are round and wide. He’s just very malnourished.
“Are you sure he’s of age?” I look at his small omega erection. It strains upward, pointing at his thin belly.
“Positive,” Angelica says with a shocking amount of confidence.
I take her word for it as I examine the omega’s pale face. His green eyes are unfocused, but his face does have a nice innocence that alphas love. His blond hair is freshly washed, falling over his ears in floppy waves, and his lips are pink and pouty. Fresh . He looks fresh. Like a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.
“He’s kind of pretty,” I say, unable to help myself. “But he needs to gain some weight.” I turn his head, examining his neck. No mating bite. Not even a nick from an attempt. In fact, he doesn’t have a single mark on him. I look at every inch of his body once again, realizing he doesn't even have any bruises. “Where was he found?” I ask, struggling to believe he was captured in the wild. The last thing I need is for an underaged omega to have been snatched from someone’s house.
“Not far from here,” Angelica says. “The Contos brothers brought him in. They’re still here if you’d like his exact location.”
“Cardis and Andros?” I ask, just to make sure. Angelica nods, and my worry falls away. The Contos brothers are too lazy to have kidnapped an omega from another alpha. I’m sure they found this boy.
“Would you like to see the display room?” Angelica asks.
I glance once again at the omega’s face, noticing his mouth opening ever so slightly. Is he trying to speak?
“Yes.” I turn away from the metal table, but before I can take a single step, something cold wraps around my wrist, holding me in place. The omega’s fingers are like ice against my skin.
“Oh! He’s awake.” Angelica grabs Dr. Plume by the arm, pulling him closer to the table.
I normally pull away from the omegas who try to touch me. The last thing I want is a clingy omega, begging to be freed. But there’s something about this small omega that has my interest piqued. The omega’s pink lips move again, and curiosity gets the better of me.
“Speak up,” I command softly as I lean down to better hear.
The omega’s pupils are blown out, his eyelids fluttering as he struggles to concentrate.
This close, I can properly smell his subtle floral scent. It’s less potent due to the drugs, but it’s still very pleasant. He smells like jasmine and some kind of rose. It’s so fucking delicate, it makes my mouth water.
“Puh-please,” the omega stammers. His words are slurred, his eyes unfocused. “Help.” His pink tongue slips over his dry bottom lip. “Please.” The sound of his timid voice sends shockwaves straight to my groin. My instincts rise, and, for a moment, the urge to snatch him up and fuck him hard grips me. And I want to destroy anyone who tries to stop me.
It’s a wildly confusing desire.
“Let go,” Angelica orders the omega. Dr. Plume pushes a needle into the omega’s slim thigh, and the cold fingers around my wrist fall away. Slowly, the omega’s hand drops to the table as his body goes slack once again. His eyes roll up into his head, and he goes still.
I fucking hate that he’s not touching me anymore.
Without thinking, my hand flies out, and I grab the omega’s face, turning it one way and then the other. He’s breathing. But barely. He’s so weak. So precious. I want to demand that he open his eyes and look at me again, but I know he can’t hear me.
“What did you give him?” I snap, my voice booming in the otherwise quiet tent.
A few omegas on the other side of the flimsy wall whimper at the sound, but then they go quiet. Enraged the doctor hasn’t answered me yet, I snap my head to one side, glaring hard at the fucker.
Dr. Plume’s mouth opens, then closes, struggling to find his words. “An extra dose of the sedative,” he finally says in a submissive whisper. I’m pleased when he drops his gaze to his feet. “I apologize.”
I narrow my eyes at the asshole before looking back at the young blond omega. I’m surprised to see that I’m gripping his face so hard, his lips are puckered out, giving me a clear view of his two front teeth and soft tongue. Needing to see more of him, I push his upper lip up, taking in the top row of clean, straight teeth and pink gums.
This omega has been cared for by someone.
Maybe he was traveling with betas or got lost after a picnic, and simply had the misfortune of running into my snatchers. But, either way, it feels like he doesn’t belong here.
A trace of sadness lances my chest, and I release the omega’s face. I press against my breastbone, shoving my fist between my pecs. What a bizarre sensation. I never give a shit about how we get our merchandise. Just that they’re fed and clean for the alphas to bid on. But there’s something about this male…something that makes me want to protect him. Or maybe I’m horny and need to get laid.
That makes more sense.
“Sir?” Angelica says softly. “What do you think? Do you want to wait or?—”
“No,” I snap, releasing the omega’s face. “He gets auctioned tonight,” I say forcefully. I need this boy gone. I don’t know why, but his presence has me on edge.
“Yes, sir.” Angelica bows her head. “Dr. Plume will make sure to have him ready.”
The doctor quickly nods, the movement jerky. Maybe even scared. I am pretty wound up. I’m sure my scent is incredibly sharp right now.
“I don’t care if we lose money,” I say, taking one more look at the omega. His soft hair hangs over his forehead, falling over his closed eyes. I want to brush it back and admire his face once more, but I shove my hands into my pockets, refusing to act on such a pathetic desire. “I don’t want him here next month.”
“We’ll get him collared and ready,” Angelica assures me and tucks her hands behind her back. But then the she-alpha’s blue eyes narrow, and her jaw clenches tight. I smell Bear’s masculine scent a second later as he steps up behind me.
“What’s this?” he asks, staring at the young omega. “A male?” His dark brows lift as he stares at the delicate creature.
“He’s not well.” I fight off a random stab of emotion. Do I feel sorry for him?
Bear stares at the boy as he steps a little closer to the metal table. The alpha sniffs the air and his big body tenses. Moving slowly, he ghosts a hand over the omega’s side. It’s a little weird. Bear doesn’t usually react to the omegas—at least not in an obvious way. He’s a master at masking his true emotions. But right now, the bearded-alpha almost looks scared.
“He’s so pale.” Bear’s voice is soft as if lost in a trance. His long fingers dance down the side of his face, caressing his cheek. The omega whimpers, and the sudden urge to rip Bear’s fucking arm off slams into me. I take a quick step back, trying to keep my absurd reaction under control.
But the fact is, I hate that Bear is touching him, which is so… confusing .
He and I share everything. He’s my packmate. My lover. My best friend. But, right now, I want to gut him for even looking at this pitiful male omega.
“Would you like to see the display room?” Angelica cuts a hard glare at Bear, also clearly not happy with the alpha touching the merchandise.
Does Angelica want this omega too?
Does she want us to leave so she can touch him and rut him when no one is looking?
Deep fury cuts through me, but I suck in a sharp breath, trying to clear my mind. “Yes.” I force the word from my mouth, desperate to get out of here. “Let’s go.”
I grab Bear by the upper arm, making him leave with me. He stiffens in my hold, but he knows better than to fight me in public, and I’m so thankful for that. I don’t know what I’d do if he tried to stay with this boy right now.
The fresh mountain air hits my face, and the rage in my belly simmers and spreads. I want so badly to rush back to that omega. To stay by his side. To feed and care for him. To fuck him into oblivion.
I’m losing my goddamn mind.
In over ten years of buying, snatching, and selling omegas, I have never once felt this way about one of them. There have been a few I thought looked fun. Some have even teased me, trying to tempt me to free them, but never once have I actually wanted to rut one of them.
I need a fucking drink.