Chapter 2
“Alexander Colborne is going straight to hell.”
I flinch as Pastor David's words slam into me from the pulpit. I got the match letter yesterday afternoon but I haven’t told anyone yet. It might feel like a co-incidence that Colborne is the topic of today’s sermon but the reality is that Pastor David mentions him every couple of weeks.
Alexander Colborne and every other celebrity who gets drunk in public or wears revealing clothing or blasphemes.
I might not have access to social media here but that doesn’t mean I don’t know who Alexander Colborne is. Pastor David has been using him as a bad example for a long time. Colborne has been kicked out of three universities. He's crashed two luxury cars and at least one yacht.
He’s rumored to have been in rehab twice although clearly it hasn't stuck, not from whatever has inspired today’s sermon.
Pastor David starts talking about temptation walking among us in thousand-dollar suits.
My knees are starting to ache against the hard wooden kneeler, but I don’t dare move.
I shift in my seat and tug at my collar. The air in the church suddenly feels stifling.
At least temptation isn’t my problem. I don’t want to marry Alexander Colborne. I want to turn the match down. I’m desperate to. I just don’t think I’m going to be allowed to.
No one knows yet. None of my friends or my parents or my siblings know that Alexander Colbourne is my prime match.
I spent half the night thinking it was a nightmare, but the letter was still there when I woke up this morning. I didn’t dream it.
My parents weren’t home when the post came. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad one, but it means I opened the letter on my own. I’d known what it was. The Omega Match Bureau logo on the corner made that clear. It was what was inside that shook me to the core.
Prime Match Identified: Alexander Colborne, Alpha, Age 34. Compatibility Rating: 96.2%
"The devil wears Armani," Pastor David continues, his voice rising with righteous fury. “And our young people look at him and covet what he has.”
My mother shifts beside me, her lavender scent spiking with concern. She must sense something's wrong. She's always been able to read me like an open book.
I keep my eyes fixed on the stained-glass window behind Pastor David's head.
Ninety-six-point two percent.
Dad's solid presence anchors my other side, his scent steady as always. Beyond him, my oldest brother Robert sits with his wife and three kids. All my siblings are here with their families—Corinne bouncing her newest babe on her knee, James’s wrestling quietly with his twins.
Perfect matches, every one of them. The alphas in our family are normal, stable alphas who work regular jobs and come home for dinner. Our omegas are dutiful and build wonderful homes and families.
None of them are anything like Alexander Colborne.
Bile rises in my throat. I swallow hard.
The choir starts up, voices rising in perfect harmony. "Amazing Grace." I mouth the words but no sound comes out. My throat is too tight.
God wouldn't give me more than I can handle.
That's what Mom always says. But God also gave Job boils and killed his entire family to win a bet with Satan, so maybe God's just got a messed-up sense of humor.
The service ends with Pastor David's usual call to resist temptation, to hold fast to our values. I stand with everyone else, legs shaky. Mom touches my elbow.
"You alright, sweetheart? You look pale."
"I'm fine." Look at me. I’ve been matched to Colborne for under twenty-four hours and I’m already lying to my own mother. "Actually, I wanted to talk to Pastor David about something. I'll walk home after?"
Dad nods, already shepherding my nieces and nephews toward the door. "Don't be too long. Your mother's making pot roast."
I wait while the congregation files out, accepting hugs from church ladies who smell like potpourri.
Pastor David is straightening hymnals when I approach.
He's been our pastor for my entire life. He married my parents, baptized all us kids, then he married my siblings. His hair is more gray than brown now, deep lines etched around his eyes. I know people can think he’s a bit too heavy on the old fire and brimstone, but he is the most strongly moral person I know.
Life isn’t always meant to be easy. That’s why people like Pastor David exist. They’re there to guide you when you are lost. And right now, I am so lost I have no idea what direction I am meant to take.
"Jonah." He smiles, warm and fatherly. "What can I do for you, son?"
"I need to talk to you about something." My voice cracks like I'm thirteen again. "Privately?"
His expression shifts to concern. "Of course. Come to my office."
I've been in his office dozens of times, with my mother to talk about the church fete, to volunteer for service at the soup kitchen, accompanying my dad when they talk about fundraising.
My family has always been close to the church.
The familiar surroundings should be comforting. Instead, the walls feel too close.
"Sit." Pastor David settles behind his desk, fingers steepled. "What's troubling you?"
I pull out the letter with trembling fingers. "I got matched."
His face lights up. "Jonah! That's wonderful news!"
I place the letter in front of him on his desk and watch his expression crumble as he reads the name.
"Oh." The single word carries the weight of understanding.
Pastor David stands and moves around the desk to sit in the chair beside mine. Up close, I can see the liver spots on his hands and the way his collar is slightly frayed at the edges. Concern is written all over his face.
I want to cry. I can’t do this. I don’t want to marry Alexander Colborne. He is not a good man or a good alpha. I shut my eyes like a child who thinks that it makes the world go away.
"Jonah." His voice is gentle but firm. "Take a breath."
I do. It doesn't help.
"I know this isn't what you hoped for," he continues. "Alexander Colborne is... troubled. Lost to God. But perhaps that's exactly why he was chosen for you."
My head eyes snap open. "What?"
"Think about it." Pastor David leans forward, eyes bright. "Who better to bring a sinner to salvation than someone like you? Devout, patient, pure of heart. This could be your calling, Jonah. Your chance to save a soul."
"I don't want to save him." The words burst out before I can stop them. "I want a normal life. A normal alpha."
"God wouldn't give you more than you can handle."
There it is. The same line I’ve been saying to myself. I know that he is right, but even so I want to scream.
He pats my knee again. “It’s your duty, Jonah. This is what has been chosen for you.”
I don’t answer. I know he is right. I suppose I was hoping for a miracle.
Pastor David's hand lands on my shoulder. "The matching system is part of God's design. To reject it would be to reject His will." He squeezes gently. "But that doesn't mean you face this alone. The church is here for you. I'm here for you."
I nod, trying not to cry.
"I think we should pray," he says and I nod, because what other choice do I have?
We bow our heads. Pastor David's familiar voice washes over me, asking for strength and for guidance, for God to work through me to bring Alexander Colborne to the light.
I try to focus on the words but all I can think of are the things that have been said in this very church so many times over the last years.
I feel my body start to shake. I am supposed to give myself to this alpha, submit to him.
The thought makes me jerk upright, face burning.
Pastor David squeezes my shoulder again.
"Amen," he finishes.
"Amen," I echo.
The walk home takes fifteen minutes but feels like hours. The late afternoon sun beats down, making my clothes stick to my skin.
Mom's waiting on the porch when I round the corner. Of course she is. Twenty-one years of being her son and I still can't hide anything from her.
"Jonah?" She's down the steps before I can respond, hands cupping my face. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"I—" The words stick in my throat. Her thumb brushes my cheek and I realize I'm crying. When did that start? "Mom, I—"
"Come inside." She pulls me toward the door. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it together."
The house smells like pot roast and I can hear the noise from the back yard. This deep into summer, we’ve got the paddling pool out and my nieces and nephews are splashing and screaming. Dad's in his recliner, newspaper lowered as we enter. His scent spikes with alarm.
"Son?"
I collapse onto the couch, Mom beside me, her arm around my shoulders. The words tumble out in a rush. "I got the match letter yesterday. I didn't know how to tell you. It's—it's Alexander Colborne."
"The Colborne heir?" Dad's careful tone says everything. “Are you sure?”
Mom's arm tightens around me. "There must be some mistake—"
"Ninety-six percent compatibility. It’s a prime match." I laugh. "Higher than yours and Dad's."
They exchange one of those married people looks, entire conversations in a glance.
My parents have been married twenty-eight years, and after all that and six kids, they’re still crazy about each other.
They still hold hands during evening walks.
I still sometimes see Mom kiss Dad in the kitchen when she thinks none of us are watching.
That's what I wanted. What I'd dreamed about since I understood what being an omega meant. Not... whatever Alexander Colborne is offering. Yacht orgies and cocaine breakfasts and whatever crazy nightmare he’s got going this week.
"Maybe..." Mom starts, then stops. Swallows. Tries again. "Maybe there's more to him than what the tabloids show. God has a plan. He wouldn't—"
"Give me more than I can handle." I finish, muffled against her blouse. " Pastor David said the same thing."
The front door bangs open. "We're here!" Corinne's voice carries from the entryway. "Robert stopped to get soft drinks—oh."
She stops short, taking in the scene. Behind her, my brothers crowd in.
"What's wrong?" James asks, alpha instincts on high alert.
"Jonah got matched," Dad says quietly.
The room erupts. Congratulations and questions overlap until Robert—eldest and loudest—whistles sharp enough to make everyone wince.
"Who's the lucky alpha?" He grins, ruffling my hair like I'm still ten.
"Alexander Colborne."
Silence drops.
"That’s the drunk guy with the pool noodle." This from Michael, unhelpfully.
I frown. “What pool noodle?”
My brothers exchange glances. “Never mind,” Michael says.
Corinne sinks onto my other side, her jasmine scent wrapping around me.
"Okay," she says, practical as always. "So, it's not ideal. But maybe—"
"If anyone else says maybe there's more to him than the tabloids, I'm going to scream."
"I was going to say maybe you can get the match contested." She squeezes my hand. "Surely a match with someone that unstable can't be right."
But we all know it doesn't work that way. The Bureau's algorithm is supposedly infallible.
Fighting it means lawyers, appeals. We don’t have that kind of money. Everything we have goes to the Fellowship.
"Let's eat," Mom says, rising. "Everything looks better on a full stomach."
Dinner is subdued despite the kids' chatter. Everyone tries to act normal but I catch the worried glances.
My four-year-old niece climbs into my lap, ice cream sticky on her chin.
“Can I be a flower girl, uncle Jonah? I was only a baby when uncle James got married so I wasn’t allowed.”
I smile, despite myself. “Yes. You’re going to be the best flower girl too.”
She pats my cheek with a sticky hand. "And I want to be the babysitter for all your babies.”
My chest goes tight. Babies. With Alexander Colborne's DNA. Will they inherit his addiction genes too?
"I need some air. I’m going to go for a walk." I pass her over to my brother who pats my hand as I get up. I know my family have my back and they will support me, but Colborne is going to be my family soon. He is going to be my alpha. He is supposed to be my priority.
I escape to the park, my old refuge. I collapse onto the rubber swing of the old swing set that my father built.
This is where I expected to bring my children.
I knew I’d get matched with someone outside of the Fellowship.
There are only seventeen families in our settlement but I thought it would be with someone who would share my values and who would be happy with the blessed, traditional life that we have here. That’s what happened with my siblings.
Somewhere, Alexander Colborne is probably reaching for whatever bottle's closest. Or maybe he's already drunk again. Maybe there's another omega in his bed, soon to be discarded like—
My first meeting with him is tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours. It’s the first official Bureau-supervised meeting at their offices. It has all moved so fast.
I stay on the swing until the streetlights flicker on, just trying to let my brain settle.
When I finally go home, Mom's waiting with tea and a gentle smile.
We go through my closet trying to pick an outfit for tomorrow—pathetic compared to what Alexander probably expects.
Everything I own is handmade, sewn by myself or my mother.
Mom pulls out my best shirt, the one in my favorite pale blue.
"You're going to be fine," she says, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. "You're strong, Jonah. This is meant to be, even if it doesn’t feel like it."
"What if I'm not?" The question slips out small and scared. "What if I can't handle him?"
"You can." She cups my face, fierce and protective. "You are strong and if you struggle, just pray for guidance and it will be given."
I nod, throat too tight for words.
In my room, I sit on my twin bed and pull out my books. Marriage guides I've been collecting since I was sixteen.
Building a Blessed Home. The Omega's Role.
Children: A Blessing From Above.
I'd thought I knew what my life would look like. Instead, I get Alexander Colborne: a drunk party animal who probably doesn't even remember what day it is half the time. How do you build a life with someone like that? How do you trust them with your heart, your body, your children? How am I supposed to follow his divine wisdom as my alpha? It doesn’t make any sense at all. I don’t understand.
I curl up in bed and try to meditate on the one thing I want to believe. God wouldn't give me more than I can handle.
I close my eyes and try to believe it. I have to believe it because tomorrow I meet the devil I have to marry.