Omega Founded (Hartlock Omegas #1)

1. Chapter 1

1

Misery Creek 1880

Dust plumed off my leather gloves as I slapped them against my thigh. I squinted at the dark pinprick of the train in the distance as it barreled toward us. The railroad tracks glinted under the afternoon sun, sizzling with stored heat. Misery Creek was the last stop on the line, and the station was almost deserted. Although that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, with its proximity to the wildlands.

Grit swirled like endless storms, obscuring the large dunes in the distance. The ground cracked like a mosaic, cooked by the near-constant beating of the sun. Even looking in its direction made shivers run down my spine. Only the forced or the desperate ventured into its barren depths.

My brother, Ruck, was the one person I knew who dared enter and return. He searched the fringes for mustangs, the rare living thing in the cracked, parched land.

“Watching isn’t gonna make that train chuff any faster, Hale.” Ruck chuckled and jabbed a sharp elbow into my side. His hazel eyes, like mine, gleamed with mirth out of his dirt-streaked face. I pulled out a filthy handkerchief and wiped it down my cheeks.

“What?” I demanded as Ruck shook his head. The back of my neck prickled.

“Give it up. You’re just moving dirt around. Miss Smythe already said she’d wed you, even without seeing your ugly mug.”

I sent a prayer for patience up at the wide, blue expanse of the sky. Nerves jumbled around my stomach. Ridiculous reaction, considering the calculation of this decision. There was a reason I placed an ad for a mail-order bride. I didn’t want any woman to get ideas about me, expecting romance.

Hale Hartlock gave up on the idea of love a long time ago.

But I had my family to think about. I was the alpha of the ranch, and it was my responsibility to provide for Ruck, Oliver, and Bram. Testosterone overran Hartlock Ranch and frankly, it needed a woman’s touch. Three years since our mama passed and Bram gained nothing but utter disdain for anything except rollicking around on his pony.

If I didn’t tame him, the humans would lock him up like they did me.

The train whistle cut through the dusty plain, a reckoning. The dark machine wavered with heat and my heart rate ratcheted. What on earth was I going to do with my beta bride? It was too late for such concerns. I froze like a petrified rabbit as the passengers disembarked. Ruck elbowed my side with a hiss under his breath. His finger shook as he pointed down the station platform.

“That isn’t her, is it? You didn’t say she was so damn pretty.”

A shiver went through me as I followed the line of Ruck’s finger. The woman he pointed out struggled to haul a large trunk from the train carriage. A fellow passenger swooped in and pried it out of her hands. A human. Any Designated would have known better than to touch her, lest their scent transferred onto her skin. She was wearing maroon gloves, which would have mitigated it, but it was still impolite.

She wore an impractical green frock, edged with white ruffles, and it overwhelmed her petite form. A wide-brimmed hat adorned with red roses masked the details of her face. She’d described the hat in her last letter as my way of recognizing her when she arrived. I never imagined it would be so beautiful. I wheezed like a horse stomped on my chest.

Miss Smythe looked far too sweet and innocent for the likes of Misery Creek.

This old gold town saw its best days before I was born, and those that remained were stubborn fixtures who were used to hardship. The town clung to the edge of the wildlands like a burr. I snatched off my hat and ran a jerky hand over my thick beard. I hadn’t shaved, not wanting my new bride to see the garish red scar that trailed along the underside of my jaw. It scared the women of Misery Creek, even the Designated. Reminded them how close I was to becoming like the wolves that roamed the plains.

Miss Smythe shied away from the man’s touch; her lips pursed. The fellow assisting her didn’t notice her discomfit. His lips crooked upward as he held her luggage, refusing to return it. Instincts made me stride forward through the limping crowd. I muscled past the stranger with a less-than-polite nudge. Ruck trailed at my back.

“Why I never—” the man’s protestations dried up as his gaze traveled up my body.

A man of little consequence. Brown hair with silver threads. Thin spectacles that I could have snapped. His necktie was the only notable thing about him, tied prominently at his gulping throat. I towered over him with a glower, ignoring his splutter in preference of addressing my bride.

She was even sweeter close up. Round milky cheeks that looked like they’d never seen a full day of sun in their life. Her hair lacked color, like strands of moonlight. Pale eyes with a dark ring around the edges. A shiver went through me at the sight of her otherworldly beauty. Chased by deep dissatisfaction.

What was I going to do with such a breakable beta?

“Miss Smythe? The ride wasn’t too hard on you, was it?” I asked, unable to soften my gruff tone. She didn’t seem to notice. Her shoulders dropped as the tension drained away. The human bounced on his toes, uppity at being ignored. He’d learn quickly. This wasn’t the city. Humans didn’t have as much reach out in the wildlands.

“How do you do? You are Mr. Hartlock, aren’t you?” she enquired.

I’d seen a crystal vase in a window once, on a rare trip to Breton City. The storefront rested it on a red velvet-laced podium like it was the most precious thing in the store. At the time, I wondered what the purpose of it was. Why would someone spend such an inordinate amount of money on something so frivolous?

As I stared into her eyes, I understood.

Light caught the crystal of her gaze, passing through her ashen lashes. They brushed her porcelain skin intermittently as Miss Smythe waited for me to reply. A strand of bleached, almost white, hair obscured her face as she looked to Ruck for help. He rolled his eyes at me and tipped his hat toward her.

“Yes, this is Hale, and I’m his brother, Ruck. We’re mighty pleased to meet you.” He managed the warmth and welcome I couldn’t muster.

“Ma’am, are these gentlemen bothering you?” the human interrupted, angling himself between us. Esta opened her pretty bow mouth, but before she could answer, I spoke. Or rather growled. The edge of my voice startled the man back a step.

“Thank you, Dr. Goodman, but I’m quite alright.” Miss Smythe tried to placate the man, and it irritated me.

“She’s a beta, and my bride.” I snapped. His superior expression dropped. His protection rescinded, and the nod he gave was stiff before he scurried away. Whatever business he had in Misery Creek wouldn’t last long if he couldn’t mask his discrimination.

The Hierarchy Laws were murkier in Misery Creek. They were a sham of protection, a consolation prize after so many wars between humans and Designated. The law made us equal. But civilized human society required us to concede our more 'animalistic' beliefs. We shed our packs and our gods for a taste of a golden noose. The Designated who signed the Hierarchy Laws forgot one thing, we might be stronger, but humans were more plentiful. And they were clever enough to mask their hatred of us by an endless stream of laws.

Misery Creek maintained a much looser interpretation of the rules we were supposed to follow. We were all doing our best to survive the harsh environment, and even the humans recognized they needed the brute strength of alphas.

I turned back to Esta, her cheeks now flushed a light pink. Like strawberries and cream. I’d tasted it once in my life, and the sweetness echoed on my taste buds as I watched her. Decadent, sweet, and silky. Was she embarrassed by my forceful tone? She’d have to get used to it. I wasn’t the type of man to mince my words, and I preferred being upfront and honest.

“You look different from what you described.” I took my time, perusing my diminutive mail-order bride. Esta’s cheeks reddened further, and her chin jutted up.

“As do you,” her lips quirked. “Is the sheriff available now? I am sore after the long journey and would appreciate a proper bedroom tonight.”

Ruck coughed, covering his mouth with his fist as he raised his eyebrows. I knew he was dying to make a comment on Esta’s forwardness. I needed several deep breaths to quieten the roar in my ears.

Did she not understand I meant this marriage to be unconsummated?

I’d made it as clear as I could in my letters without being vulgar. But I couldn’t refute her, not as I was. Slack-jawed like a calf-eyed boy.

“ Alone.” Esta let out an embarrassed squawk as the silence grew between the three of us. “In my bedroom. I struggled to sleep on the train journey.”

I motioned toward the sheriff, reaching down to heft her trunk. It was sleek and large, the surface unmarred by scratches, only covered in dust from the arduous journey. As we walked, I flared my nostrils, taking in the muted scent of my beta bride. A faint scent of lemons, unobtrusive and pleasant. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment caved my chest. I certainly didn’t want a bride whose scent tempted me like a devilish omega.

They brought nothing but trouble.

Too irresistible. Biologically, I understood the appeal. But I would never subject myself to an omega’s presence again, not after the hell I endured last time. Thankfully, they were a rarity in the wildlands. There was only one in Misery Creek, and she was as spoiled as their reputation demanded. The exact opposite of what I needed. Ruck elbowed me in the side again, and I shot him a look. He was going to leave a bruise if he kept it up.

My brother motioned for me to pass over the trunk. “I’ll just put this away in the cart and be back to witness your union momentarily.”

He hoisted the trunk up, and Esta spun on her heel, eyes flared with alarm. “Please, be careful. I have some precious crockery which belonged to my mother.”

Ruck winked and pet the side of the trunk. “Have no fear, ma’am. I shall take the best care.”

I bristled at his effortless charm.

Her face softened, and I quelled the ridiculous need to shift in front of my brother to shield him from seeing it. She was my bride, not his. My jaw clenched as he disappeared, and we were alone.

“You didn’t sleep well on your journey.” I hovered my hand in the air as we stepped out onto the main strip of Misery Creek. There was only one street that all the important stores bordered. We walked past the general store, Frontier Goods, and I helped her cross the road to the sheriff’s office. Esta dug her fingers into a knot in her shoulder with a quiet grimace.

“No, it was long and…” she trailed off for a moment, searching for her words. “I’m glad to be here.” There was a brittle quality to the smile she offered, but I didn’t press her. Esta wrote boldly that she preferred no questions about her past. My situation was dire enough not to care.

She’d come from relative richness if her dress and belongings were any sign. I scuffed my boots outside the sheriff’s office and turned to my slight, soon-to-be wife. I needed her desperately, for my younger brother’s sake, but looking at her, I wondered if Esta could even live on the ranch. It was a hard, unforgiving life. Was her skin as smooth as I imagined under her gloves? She cleared her throat delicately, wondering why we stopped.

Dust swirled in the afternoon wind. It always picked up around this time. Tossing clouds of grit into the air. Would it give her hair color when it invariably clung to it? I found my throat dry with curiosity, but I swallowed past it. She didn’t belong in Misery Creek.

“The ranch is a good hour’s ride from town. I wanted to make sure you were still willing.” I worried my hat between my callused hands. The deputy beta, Wood McDonald stomped his boots on the mat and left the sheriff’s, openly gawking. He would spread the news about the newest resident of Misery Creek before the night was out. I shot him a look, and he spun on his heel and retreated.

Sometimes it was good having a reputation as a feral alpha.

“Are you displeased with your mail-order bride?” Esta asked. Her eerie eyes didn’t waver from mine, small in stature but mighty in spirit. Perhaps there was spine enough in her to survive her new raw home. I looked past the finery of her dress. Her jawline could cut me, the way she hiked it high, daring me to argue. There was a flash of something else, hurt or fear? Did she not know how beautiful she was? I felt wholly unprepared to marry such a woman. My groin tightened at the idea of making our marriage real. But that wasn’t what she’d come for. I’d been clear about boundaries, but now I regretted them.

“No, it’s not that,” I assured her. “It’s a hard life, as I wrote. As I mentioned, it’s my younger brother who I hope you’ll help with the most. Oliver, our farmhand, stays in the barn on the ranch. Maybe you aren’t happy with your husband.” I offered her an out as my cheeks heated under tanned skin. I hoped the bristles of my beard hid the color. Esta regarded me with something akin to amusement.

“I read your letters carefully, Mr. Hartlock, and arrived despite your many warnings. Your younger brother, Bram, desires a mother figure. You intend me to be more of a housekeeper than a wife?”

I nodded. Words escaped me. Was it too soon to ask her for a revision?

“Shall we say our vows now? Is your conscience eased?”

She swept ahead of me, her lemony scent stale as she pushed through the door. I stood frozen, recollecting how blunt I’d been in my original ad. I’d asked for betas only and warned all applicants not to expect any romantic diversions. Having children would be the only reason I would share a room with my wife, and I hadn’t expected that to occur any time soon. In polite terms, I’d wanted a nanny for my wild brother, Bram. I might have exaggerated his willingness to have someone care for him. But he needed to be taught the correct way to act. I clearly didn’t have the skills.

Esta’s skirts hinted at a round rump, and I felt a keen sense of disappointment at my rash words. What would it be like to slide into bed with Esta? Would she welcome me into her soft embrace and wrap her body around mine? I’d find out one day when she decided it was time for children. It was harder for an alpha and beta pairs to conceive, but not impossible.

Regret churned in my stomach, hollow and sharp. There was something about this woman already stealing its way under my skin. I followed Esta with a gusty sigh. She would be my wife soon.

We could work everything else out later.