Chapter One
Eden
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Eden had never known anything except her own solitary life.
She was the only person who had ever looked out for herself and the only person she had ever been able to rely on.
It wasn't a fairytale life, and she didn't expect one either.
It might not be pretty and glamorous like the omegas she read about in romance novels and streamed on her favourite K-dramas, but it wasn't a bad life. It wasn't ugly.
She knew how ugly it could get. She had seen omegas stolen off the streets in broad daylight.
Had read about omegas sold in grey market auction houses in the news.
She knew she was one alpha's bite away from a nightmare herself, which is why she was careful.
She never went out after dark. She locked her doors and boarded up her windows from the inside. She didn't look men in the eye.
It's how she kept her life hers. Her apartment always had stacks of kids' homework that needed marking, and there were always boxes of instant mac and cheese for dinner, but there were also always more good weeks than bad weeks.
Sure, there was stress. Who didn't have stress?
Rent needed to be paid and there were never enough hands to go around at the underfunded inner-city school she worked at as a teacher's assistant, but she made it work.
She had built her life from the bottom up and it was predictable and manageable and fit her like her favourite old mustard yellow cardigan she'd gotten for $4 at a church yardsale.
Most mornings began before sunrise when her phone alarm shattered her sleep.
She would drag herself out of her tiny nest tucked away in the corner of her studio apartment that she had painstakingly furnished with free furniture she'd found along the side of the road or on Marketplace.
She'd scrubbed each piece meticulously to remove the scents and bugs and dust until they only smelled like her.
The old walnut bookshelf with scrollwork carved into the side that was filled with second-hand books, the big straight-backed tufted chair that she had reupholstered herself the year before after watching tutorials online, and a small white dining table with a single chair by the window made up the space. It was hers–her home, her nest.
Plants sat on every surface, which she tended to like they were her own children. Finicky orchids and indestructible pothos', a few ficuses, and a hibiscus that bloomed with cherry red flowers in the summer.
She would've loved a garden, a place with grass and fresh air. Maybe she could even grow vegetables. But she didn't let herself get caught up in thoughts about what she didn't have. What she had was enough.
The old boiling radiator never worked, but that was fine. She could make do with a few extra blankets and sweaters in the winter. If she was lucky, she had some honey or jam to spread on her whole wheat toast before she changed and ran out the door to grab the 6AM bus.
It was a fine life, and even better because it was one she had built for herself. It wasn't easy as an unbonded omega and she was proud of what she'd accomplished.
Until she had met Officer Brett on the first week of school one cool September day.
School security had always been a joke, middle-aged men with beer guts who spent more time flirting with the cafeteria staff than breaking up fights.
But Officer Brett was different. He was real police, not just some third-party outsourced rent-a-cops.
That was what first caught her eye. "South York Police Department" was emblazoned on his brawny chest. He had a police-issued weapon strapped to his hip that he always kept gripped in one hand, as if he might use it anytime, despite the fact that this was a grade school.
He was big for a beta, broad-shouldered and square-jawed with dark brown slicked-back hair.
He was young too. Probably close to her age.
The first time she saw him, he had stopped her just outside the library as she was accompanying the kids to their next period.
She had been wearing an old jean skirt that was fraying at the bottom, a coffee-coloured wool sweater than had a hole in the sleeve that she had tried to patch over with her own messy embroidery, and her favourite leather boots. She couldn't have been more invisible if she'd tried.
“Good afternoon,” he had said, his voice too casual, too practiced.
"Good afternoon," she had responded, keeping her head down and her focus on her students. "Thomas, get back in line please. Single file, everyone."
"You a teacher here?" Apparently, he wasn't going to take her attempt at dismissal that easily.
"A teacher's assistant," she had responded, peeking over at him quickly before turning back to her charges once more.
He had looked at her with an intensity that had chilled her straight to her core and she had frozen like a deer in the headlights, a prey animal. And he had noticed, responding as a predator.
"Hey, you, kid," he barked at Thomas. "Listen to your teacher, Ms.– what did you say your name was?" It was a pointless question, considering her ID badge was hanging from her neck.
"I didn't," she said. "It's um– North. Ms. North. But it's fine, really. Thank you, officer," she'd attempted to say in dismissal again.
"Ms. Eden North," he'd murmured, as if testing her name in his mouth and watching her go as she had herded the kids into the library.
He'd made a point to notice her since then.
He seemed to be wherever she was, there first thing in the morning and the last to leave at night, his eyes tracking her movements.
And she had attempted to be unbothered, avoiding him wherever possible, darting her eyes away from his gaze and pretending he wasn't there.
Until it all changed one cold October day.
She had taken the time that morning to quickly dress into a plaid wool skirt that nearly reached the floor and a white long sleeved t-shirt underneath her yellow cardigan.
She slipped on her black leather boots that had seen better days and then steeled herself against the weather. Just like any other day.
She ducked her head down as she passed the other people making their way to work in the morning.
She'd learned long ago in the foster homes she'd grown up in to keep her head down, to move quietly and take up as little space as possible.
That's how she survived. Be invisible. Don't let them notice you.
It didn't hurt that she didn't look like an omega was supposed to.
She was chubby and always had been, with wide hips and a chest that threatened to pop the buttons off her shirts.
She was far from the petite frame that omegas usually had.
Her honey blonde hair that reached her tailbone in tumbling curls was the only thing about her that was noticeable, and she kept that tied back in a low bun anytime she left the house.
She wasn’t the kind of girl who got noticed or followed or…
hunted. She was just a teacher's assistant, with a two-year degree in childhood education, $42.
73 in her bank account, and a scent that even she could barely smell due to the scent blockers and suppressants she took on a steady basis since the day she'd first perfumed.
It kept her safe. Until now. She should have known that day would go badly. She should have stayed in bed. It was the kind of cold, slushy fall day that threatened to set her bones to aching and make her wish she'd never left the safety of her nest.
"Ms. North," his voice was the same chilling rasp as she remembered, strolling into her classroom. Cornering her as she threw on her jacket to ward off the autumn chill that cut through the school's old walls. "Late night?"
It had been a long day and Eden wanted nothing more than to run home to her nest. One of her students had been sick and her mom hadn't been able to come get her until now.
It was well past dark, and usually Eden wouldn't allow herself to be caught out this late, but the only other option would've been to leave Marissa alone.
"Y-yes," she stammered out, clutching her bag to her front, forcing her voice to be casual and offering him a strained smile. "One of my kids had to stay late. I'm just going home now."
He grinned, teeth bright and carnivorous under the florescent lights. “You should be careful walking alone after dark, Eden.”
The way he said her name, rolling it over his tongue, made her skin crawl.
"You've been avoiding me," he said then, strolling into the room and leaning his hip against the desk. Eden backed away to the other side, trying to make her movements seem casual, trying not to show her fear or weakness.
She forced out a chuckle but it came out high pitched and slightly hysterical. "I don't know what you mean, officer. I'm just leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."
"An omega wandering these streets alone at night isn't safe," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, and that's when she froze.
How had he known she was an omega? She didn't advertise it.
She definitely didn't look like one. Omegas were usually model pretty and surrounded by wealthy packs, lounging around their mansions in namebrand athleisure.
They weren't the quiet chubby girls in second hand clothes working as a TA at a bad school.
"I-I do it all the time. I can take care of myself," she stammered, trying to make her voice breezy and failing as she saw the way his eyes flickered over her body, lingering on her chest just a moment too long.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Let me give you a ride—you can’t be too careful these days.”
“No, thank you,” she responded, forcing her voice to stay calm. “The bus stop is just out front.”
He stepped closer. Too close, the scent of his aftershave, sharp and chemical filling her nose and making her want to sneeze. “I insist.”
"N-no, thank you, p-please–" She attempted to back away, but he was too quick, grabbing her arm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her bicep.
His voice spoke to her like she was an unruly child flinging spitballs, like he thought he was an alpha with some command over her. “Don’t be stupid, Eden. Come with me. Now.”
The building was silent. No one else was there to hear her scream, no one to save her. Panic roared in her chest. “P-please, let go of me,” she begged again, her voice pathetically small and breathless. Weak.
He leaned in, his mouth inches from her ear. “You really wanna' do this the hard way, Eden?”
She didn't know what took over her then.
Probably the same reckless part of her that made her choose to become a TA instead of settling down with a wealthy pack and living a life of luxury as their spoiled pet mate.
But the surge of adrenaline took her, and with her free arm, she grabbed the closest thing she could reach on the desk–a pen–and drove it into his arm with all her strength.
He yelped, releasing her and giving her the opportunity to run.
She did't waste any time. She took off, sprinting down the hallway and out the front door without looking back.
Lungs burning, she took off down a side road, then another, her mind only focussed on putting space between herself and the aggressive beta male.
She didn't know how, or for how long she had run, but somehow Eden found herself back in front of her apartment building, every omega instinct inside of her screaming that she needed to be back in her nest. She'd be safe in her nest. Her nest was warm and secure and she'd be okay as long as she was burrowed under her blankets. Nothing would ever hurt her there.
She stumbled up the steps to her unit, nearly falling down several times as her jelly legs refused to hold her. Finally, her lock clicked shut behind her, and she sagged against the door.
She didn't go to work the next day, but he found her anyways.
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She woke up to a pounding on the door and voices echoing down the hallway. She was still wearing the same clothes, her body still shaking with the after effects of the night before.
When she opened the door, two officers, uniforms sharp and creased and faces blank, stood waiting.
"Eden North," Officer Brett said, his voice dripping with burning acid. "You are under arrest for aggravated assault against a police officer."
She was handcuffed before she even knew what was happening, before she could even pull her shoes on.
She didn't scream, blood rushing in her ears as heavy shock weighed her down like a wet blanket.
Everything around her blurred. They read her out her rights with flat voices, but the droning words drifted in one ear and out the other.
A sharp cold stabbed through her socked feet as they pulled her across the sidewalk through the snow and slush to their parked car, the pain the only thing centring her in her body.
It was only when they pulled in front of a nondescript lawyer's office in a strip mall that she began to struggle with confusion.
There was no secretary, just a bell at a front desk which they rang once, the tone jarring. They addressed the alpha that came out of the back office as "judge," but the words didn't make any sense.
The lawyer–the judge?–looked her over, scrutinizing her like she was a show cow at a winter fair and not a criminal being arrested.
"Sturdy," he said approvingly. "She'll do. What did you get her for?"
"Bitch stabbed me," Officer Brett said, and Eden finally found her voice.
"I-I was just defending myself–please, he–no, I didn't–please, you have to listen to me–" But the lawyer wasn't listening, her voice thin and useless even as she tried to call out after him as he walked away from them. He returned with a stack of papers in his hand.
"Marcus asked me if I could send some calming influences to Black Bay. We'll send her there."
"You mind if I uh–" Officer Brett cleared his throat meaningfully, "–have some time with her myself before she goes?"
The judge looked at Officer Brett with barely concealed disgust on his face. "She's not for you. Go to Bianca's to burn off some steam, if you must. I'll take it from here. Your money will be in your account by noon tomorrow."
As Eden watched the officers walk away, she wondered what fresh hell could possibly be awaiting her that could be worse than Officer Brett.