Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Staff Garden, Omega Hotel
The afternoon sun reflects off the snow, which blankets the small, courtyard staff garden. I squint against its brightness, trailing after Zoe and crunching over the snow, as she enthusiastically toddles along the edges of the tiny sensory garden.
My mind is filled with plans for a daring heist headed by an Omega.
It would go down in legend like the stories that Dad raised me on. I would be as infamous as my ancestors.
I am buzzing with finally being able to take action.
It’s a talent knowing when to accept what you can’t change. But also, knowing when to change what you can’t accept.
And I am no longer accepting the injustice going on in this hotel.
I glance at my daughter, however, as she holds onto the wooden fencing around the sensory garden to keep herself on her feet. She is wrapped in one of my uniforms over her normal clothes because I don’t have a warm enough coat for her.
Fear grips my heart.
What if my choice means that she is endangered? What if she loses her mom?
Should I be taking this risk?
Yet should my fear for her present mean that I abandon her future?
Dad made that decision when he suffered for all those years with Maya, believing that somehow he could save us three kids by behaving like a submissive, elite Omega.
It didn’t work.
How can I make the same choice now?
The world is changing.
Twenty-five years ago, when Maya preyed on Dad with his Shattered Bond Syndrome, Omegas had little rights and no way of escaping from their Head Alpha.
Over the last couple of years, however, Omegas have been increasingly supported by the Omega Society to gain new laws that protect them, whether as Rejects or elites.
It is the shadowy and illegal Omega resistance, however, that Maya hates, which has truly been fighting to free Omegas from their abusive packs and settle them with new ones, as well as do grand gestures like shut down the Institute.
Lashonda eagerly spreads the news of every victory through the HOs.
I know that they’re waiting for the resistance to come save them.
I’m not waiting any longer.
I will become the Omega hero in my own story.
I glance upward at the sharp winter sun through the gray snow clouds.
Maybe I am flying too close to the sun. Yet I would rather fly too close for a short while, as long as that means I blaze the way for every other Omega to fly to their freedom any way that they choose to.
Including my daughter.
And hers. And hers…and every generation that comes afterward.
I crouch down, smiling at Zoe. Then I brush off the leaves of the plants and herbs. My fingers are blue with cold. I wish that I had a pair of gloves.
The sensory garden is bright against the white with the red twig dogwood’s bright stems and the mahonia’s yellow flowers.
Chris bargained to work extra shifts in order to earn herbs and seasonable fruit and vegetables to be added to the garden as well. Now, I will be able to play treasure hunts with Zoe (I am looking forward to searching for wild strawberries with her in summer).
Zoe runs her fingers happily over the soft lamb’s ear leaves. They’re her favorite. Then she pulls one off, rubbing the fuzzy leaf over her neck.
She purrs.
“Soft.” I grab one too and copy her, purring as happily.
Sensory gardens are now standard in nurseries because Omegas have such a drive for discovering touch and different sensations.
When Zoe drops the leaf, I do as well and take her hand. Slowly, we walk along the sensory garden, bent over it, concentrating.
I need this time with my young daughter. These snatched moments are rare.
It shook me seeing Dad and his devastation to be dragged away from me.
I understand his love because I feel it for Zoe.
I tighten my hold on her hand, pointing to the ornamental grasses. The light breeze rustles through them.
I place my finger to my lips. “Listen. Can you hear the wind whispering?”
Zoe nods enthusiastically.
Softly, it begins to snow.
My heart sinks, as the snowflakes feather on my cheeks.
Five more minutes.
Just give me five more minutes with my precious daughter.
When I bend over to sniff the plants, Zoe copies me.
“Witch hazel,” I name like I always do.
“Pretty.” Zoe strokes over the yellow and orange flowers.
“Honeysuckle.”
“Hmm.” Zoe pulls me further along the courtyard.
It is snowing harder now. I wipe my hand across my eyes.
I bend further over the wooden border, snapping off needle-like pieces of foliage to pass to Zoe to rub between her fingers. “Rosemary. It smells yummy. Just like the even yummier…orange espresso.”
I break off with shock.
Orange espresso.
What. The. Fuck?
“Toasted marshmallow,” a commanding voice replies. “Even yummier.”
I shiver but not from cold.
All of a sudden, my entire body feels like it has been awoken.
I straighten and find myself face to face, startlingly close, to a strange Alpha.
I push Zoe carefully behind me.
I swallow, staring up into the man’s pale blue eyes.
My heart is beating too fast. I wasn’t expecting to meet an Alpha in the staff gardens. Only Icarus comes here, since Maya wouldn’t get her hands dirty by venturing this far into the staff quarters.
I had forgotten that new Alphas had been brought onto the staff to delve into the finances. Plus, this man does look exactly how I would imagine a hot accountant would.
Well, in my dreams. And if he was a mob accountant.
To be fair, I can imagine that Maya may have turned to one of the mafia packs to get creative with the shady numbers.
Despite his delicious scent calling to me, I ball my hands.
I can’t believe that I have spent my life hoping that I would find my scent match but he may actually be a villain.
Yet could any devil actually look this much like an angel?
Snowflakes feather onto the Alpha’s long, thick eyelashes and silky, black hair, which is slicked back from his handsome face.
He is about a head shorter than Icarus but is athletic.
He appears to be in his mid-twenties and is dressed smartly like all managerial staff in a gray suit with a crisp ivory shirt under a long, dark woolen coat.
Icarus would approve of how immaculate the Alpha is. At least he isn’t going to have any problems, unlike my rebellious Omega soulmate, in meeting the hotel’s rules on dress and appearance.
The only thing that he is missing is the correct tie.
The Alpha takes a deep breath, before his pupils dilate. He clenches his jaw, as if getting himself under control.
He blinks the snow out of his eyes, studying my face, before awkwardly adjusting his tie. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting you? I didn’t know that anybody was here.”
So, he wants to ignore that we’re scent matches. It hurts, but I understand. It’s not as if we’re in a scent matching agency or on a dating app looking for a pack.
For all I know, he already has a loving pack waiting at home for him. Why would he want to add to it? Add a Reject Omega like me?
Still, his awkwardness is adorable.
“I was taking my break,” I reply. “But you’re allowed to share the garden too.”
“I’m Lionzio.” He holds his hand out to me like he’s a CEO making a deal. “You can call me Lion.”
He does realize that I’m an Omega, right? No one has tried to shake my hand before.
I laugh, shaking Lionzio’s hand, firmly.
“Good handshake you’ve got there.” Then his smile fades. “Also, blue hands.” He pulls away and strips off his leather gloves, passing them to me. “They’ll be too big but at least will be warm.”
I stare at him in shock.
Lionzio doesn’t appear to realize the impact that he has had on me, however, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to give strange Rej Omegas expensive leather gloves. Instead, he notices Zoe, who is peering around my legs.
He drops to one knee, holding his hand out with a serious expression to Zoe. “Would you like to shake my hand, little Omega?”
Zoe looks at his hand, before placing her tiny one in his. She beams.
I pull on the warm gloves, and slowly feeling bleeds back into my numb fingers.
Lionzio stands with a swirl of his coat. When he turns his face up to the sky, and the cold light falls across the sharp planes of his face, it shocks me how striking he is. Yet also how sad he looks, before his pale eyes become flat in a troubling way.
This man is dangerous.
I can sense by his scent that he isn’t dangerous to Zoe or me. But he is capable of it.
Am I right about him being from a mob family?
“You’re both still shivering.” Lionzio’s expression clouds. “Why don’t you have warmer clothes?”
“You’ll discover,” I reply, “that both staff and Hotel Omegas are provided with the bare minimum, whether of clothes or possessions. The guests live in luxury, but those who serve them don’t.
The Frost pack make their money through having close margins on things like food and clothes for their wards.
Bosses care about the bottom line and not their staff’s welfare. Or is your boss different?”
I’m not covering for Maya.
Lionzio will find out this information anyway. Accountants only care about the numbers, but maybe Lionzio can put in some kind of staff mistreatment section in his report, which could help my case.
To my surprise, Lionzio’s expression gentles. “My Omega boss is amazing. He’s chaos, and fire, and so much kindness. He’s braver than any person I know. He has helped me not to feel alone and given me purpose. He’s my friend, and I wish that I could be half as good as he is.”
I stare at Lionzio with wide eyes.
His boss is an Omega?
Lionzio’s cheeks are pink, and he’s smiling.
He’s fucking smitten with this mysterious boss, and he doesn’t appear to even know it.
He shakes his head, as if catching himself.