Ginger Omega (Disowned Mates #1)

Chapter One

Karissa

“No, no, no, no, no!” I rocked in the front seat of the piece-of-shit truck I’d borderline stolen from the pack when I left.

“Don’t do this to me!” Pounding the steering wheel, I continued a cursing regimen I’d never have used at home.

Females were not usually allowed to curse, or drive for that matter.

We were destined to be mates and mothers in that order, and nothing more.

Well, that was not quite true. Mates, mothers, and borderline-indentured servants with no end date to their servitude.

After stalling out several times and overheating once, the POS made a loud grinding screech and shut down in the middle of the night on the edge of a town that didn’t even show up on GPS.

I managed to steer it over to the side of the road before it completely went dead so at least I had less of a chance of getting hit by a semi.

Always looking on the bright side, that was me.

A practical person might suggest that I should have looked for a mechanic the first time it acted up, but I asserted that practical person would have to be less desperate than this fleeing wolf shifter omega who feared she would be caught at any time.

Oh, not to be arrested. The pack wouldn’t report the truck missing or anything.

The local officials turned a blind eye to what the people who raised me were up to, but they weren’t so sure of themselves as to have me picked up by the police and questioned.

They’d try to get to me themselves instead.

Drag me back to the lands and…I wasn’t even sure what.

At least, no more attempts to mate me to males who sickened me, whose marks would not stay, and who would ultimately reject me. Their reasons for wanting me back would go something like…she’s our property. Only one reason.

I got out of the truck and walked around the front, staring at the hood and chewing on my lip.

I should probably open it and see if the problem was something small and fixable, like a hose.

I’d heard my brother talk about “blowing a hose” once, and how easy and cheap the repair had been.

Another male had bragged to his packmates about how he’d filled a radiator with beer to get to his next stop.

Not a lot of automotive knowledge but something to start with.

Not that I had beer, but the big jug of water on the front seat might work if I needed that.

Reaching for the seam where the hood met the body of the car, I tried to lift it to see inside, but it wouldn’t budge. Kicking the bumper only served to hurt my toes. “You stupid, stupid truck!” I returned to the driver’s seat and turned the key. “Start, damn you!”

Nothing. Dead engine. Picking up my phone, I googled all the terms I could think of that might apply.

Broken truck. Screeching engine. Smoke from under hood.

And a few more, but none of them brought me anything that helped.

Mostly ads for garages and towing services.

I had a little money I’d managed to save over the years, but a further search for what such things cost told me they were far beyond my means.

I’d just typed in how to open old pickup truck hood when flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror had me closing my eyes and cursing softly.

This swearing stuff was becoming a habit.

Shoulder gravel crunched under the boots of the officer as he approached my window. He tapped on it and gestured that I should lower it, but the one feature this POS had was power windows. No power, no rolling down. I pointed at the window and shook my head, hoping he would understand.

“Open the door please,” he said, his deep voice resonating through the solid barrier.

It wasn’t even locked, so I considered it a courtesy that he didn’t just do it himself.

Since females were not allowed to drive, my license was brand new, only received through the sneakiest means before I ran away.

If I was about to be cited for something, it would truly tick me off.

I had sworn to myself to be the best, safest driver on the road, but there were so many rules, I’d recognized how easy it would be to break one without meaning to.

Suppressing more foul language, I pulled the handle and opened the door.

“Hello, Officer. Was I doing something wrong?” I accompanied my inquiry with a submissive smile, what had been my best method for getting out of trouble back in the pack.

“No…why are you grinning like that? Have you been smoking anything today?”

I let the corners of my mouth drop. “No. I don’t smoke. It’s even bad for—I mean it’s unhealthy and stinks.”

“I don’t mean tobacco, and you know it.” He stepped back. “Please exit the vehicle.”

“I might as well.” Climbing out, I let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

He studied me for a moment. “Did you really not know what I was asking about?”

“Cigarettes. But you said you didn’t mean that. Did you”—realization slowly dawned. “I’m a female!”

“Yes, ma’am. I noticed.” His suspicious demeanor was gradually dissipating, a twinkle appearing in his gold-flecked dark-brown eyes.

A square jaw and fade haircut along with broad shoulders and a utility belt hanging from trim hips made him look like the ultimate TV cop.

The sexy kind. “But plenty of females I know partake in the herb. Now that I get a better look at you, I have the impression you are not one of them.”

“No. Where I come from, girls and women don’t do that. Or smoke cigarettes. Or drink. Or cuss, although this truck has me doing one of those things.”

“As long as it’s not something that impairs your driving, there are no laws on the books that specify women have any different rules governing them than men. Your pack must be stuck in the past.”

“Something like that. Now, if you don’t have any other questions, you can probably go catch real criminals.”

He tsked. “And leave a damsel in distress on the side of the road? Never. You have a bad impression of law enforcement if you think all we do is arrest people. We’re also supposed to help people who need it.

This road gets a fair bit of traffic, and you’re not safe here on the side in the dark.

How can we get you on your way? Did you run out of gas? ”

“If only. Wait…” I tried to think how many miles I’d traveled since filling up. The gauges were as dead as the rest of the vehicle. “No. Last time I looked at the dials, it was almost full.”

“Flat tire?”

I shook my head.

“Overheated?”

“Maybe, but I think it’s something more. Does a car screech when it gets too hot?”

“Not usually.” He pulled out his phone. “Let’s get you a tow and somewhere to spend the night. You’ll be able to sort everything out in the morning. I didn’t get your name.”

“K-Katie. And thank you, Sheriff.” My wolf was reacting all over the place, something she’d never done with anyone else I’d been forced to try to mate with.

At least not in a good way. Sorting out was probably going to go badly because my money would never stretch far enough to get me out of this.

Too bad because the sooner I got away from this male, the better.

My name was scratched from the rolls of eligible females.

I would be alone the rest of my life, only allowed to work, never to have a mate to love me.

“Well, hello, K-Katie. Welcome to Pleasant.”