Rejected Omega and his Alpha (Rejected Outcasts #1)

1. Buyer

Chapter one

Buyer

I woke up early in the morning, the sun just starting to peak up over the horizon. Making my way to take a shower, I again am thankful that I have my own room with its own bathroom. Letting out a contented sigh as the hot water fell against me, I couldn’t help but start to think about the past. Reliving the moment my world came crashing down and ended up where I am now. Or the little I remember, at least.

As far as families go, we were ordinary but happy. My dad would go to work, and I would stay at home with Papa, oftentimes lost in my own little world while she became a whirlwind of activity around me. We didn’t have much money, but we were happy. At least until Papa got sick and Dad was angry more often then not. The last time I saw him, I was clutching the leg of a police officer while he flew into a rage, three others struggling to restrain him on the ground. A nice woman tried to steer me away from the sight, but I could only stand there and watch with morbid fascination. Even after getting manhandled, his eyes never left mine. He said sorry over and over again, like a broken record, as a paramedic checked the cut on my face.

I used to look at my dad in awe and marvel at how strong he was. He used to be my hero. Now, I look at that same strength and see how monstrous it can truly be.

I’m torn between feeling thankful I don’t remember all that much about that day, or cursed because I can still remember the terrible moments with stark clarity. On that day, I lost everything. My toys, my home, my dad...

And even my name.

It was decided that my father was unable to take care of me, and since I was an Omega, I would be turned over into the care of a government organization known as The Omega Preservation Society.

The Omega Preservation Society first began about fifty years ago when the rate at which Omegas were born began to decline. As the number of Alphas began to overshadow those of Omegas, society as a whole couldn’t keep up. Due to the sweet pheromones the Omegas give off, there was a great risk of those who were unmatched being attacked.

As the balance between the two started to stabilize, the Omega Preservation Society adapted, becoming more of a school for Omegas where they learned how to properly conduct themselves in a potential match. Besides regular schooling such as reading, writing, math, and such, we also learned how to cook and do general house chores such as laundry and upkeep. They still do, however, take in unwanted Omegas. People like me.

Auctioning off young Omegas to Alphas when they come of age created a worldwide stir. Although there was some backlash at first, it was generally accepted as a form of fundraising to keep the organization running.

I quickly ran out of the shower, cursing myself for letting my thoughts run wild. As I start to get ready, I take a look at myself, not liking what appeared back at me. With rich chocolate skin and pale hair, the color shifting from white to a deep silver depending on the light, I cut a unique, almost exotic figure. That fact was only enhanced by my eyes, a burnished gold that was uncommon, perhaps even rare.

All of these would have been quite appealing if it weren’t for the slight scar on my cheek. At least, that’s what the Keepers, the older Omegas tasked with taking care of their young charges, would always lament upon seeing me. Measuring about four inches, it began beneath my left eye and went down, traveling diagonally. My hand goes to finger the blemish, but I force my hand to my side. Making sure I was as presentable as I could be, I left my room and headed down the white hall to the elevator banks.

The Omega Preservation Society, better known as the OPS, was one of the better-kept governmental properties as the auctions brought in a substantial amount of money. Each building’s layout was pretty much the same, with the first floor holding the offices of the senior staff members, and rooms where the younger omegas attended classes and were housed, taking up a couple of floors above it. The upper floors are reserved for older Omegas who help out with the little ones.

I belonged to the latter category. Not counting the Omegas amongst the staff, I was the oldest one still under the care of the OPS. Most of the other tenants found matches soon after they turned eighteen. I was the only outlier, twenty-two, and had no prospects at all. I blamed the scar.

Taking the elevators a few floors down, I exited onto a hallway where those who did not have their own room were placed in bunks grouped by age. I knocked against each door, telling those who were inside that it was time to get up and go downstairs for breakfast.

I was in charge of the entire floor, overseeing the young ages ten to fifteen. I was a nervous wreck at first, but over time, I grew into the role, finding my confidence along the way.

As the various doors began to open, revealing faces still tired from sleep, I began to compile a list of things I had to do today before it got too late in the day. First, I had to make sure everyone arrived to class on time. A couple of the boys had warnings from teachers for being late. I received a warning as well, but I didn’t take it too close to heart.

Next, I had to help finish cleaning the mess hall after everyone was accounted for in class. After that, I usually had free time, which I spent taking online classes at a local community college. I still didn’t know what I wanted to pursue yet, so I’m mostly taking general classes along with some electives. They were all easy, nothing too difficult as of yet. The one class that I enjoyed the most though, was creative writing. It was also the class I hated. Well, hate was a strong word, but nothing else comes to mind.

The professor was always giving us assignments to write:

‘Try to create a short story in exactly 500 words.’

‘Share an obstacle that you overcame.’

‘Using your own words, tell a love story’.

The last one, I thought I had done a pretty good job, having read quite a few steamy romances in my spare time, but apparently not. No matter how hard I tried, she would always give me the same feedback.

Good job, but something is lacking. Try to convey your feelings a bit more.

“Five? Five? NUMBER FIVE!”

I jumped, shaken out of my reverie to find one of the boys standing before me, a paper held before him.

“I called your name like a hundred times!”

Number Five. A cruel nickname if you think about it. My actual number was five hundred, but over the years, the tenants started using the shorthand version of each other’s names. Mine only reminded me of the fact that I was the oldest, even if there were hundreds of residents before me.

“Sorry about that, Sixty-Four. I just have a lot on my mind. Also, that was a hyperbole. Do you know what that is? It was part of your English homework last week.”

He shook his head, his finger making its way to the boy’s nose. I slap it away. Hopefully, he’ll grow out of that habit, but one thing is for sure, no matter if you’re an Alpha, Beta, or Omega, boys will be boys. I finally take the paper he’s holding and give it a cursory look. I could immediately tell that something wasn’t right. Last night, I had helped another boy who was in the same class as him, Sixty-Seven, and this was the exact same paper. The only difference was, this one is blank.

“Wait, you didn’t do your homework?”

“Is it blank?”

The way he asked the question, I honestly had hope that he brought the wrong paper, that it was somewhere in his room.

“Yeah, it’s blank.”

“Then I didn’t do it.”

I tried not to roll my eyes, I really did, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself. I tried to think of happy thoughts, combining them with word-chain to fully relax. Library. Books. Romance. Novels. Beach. Sun. Ocean. Sand.

I admit, in the beginning, I started out strong, but then I thought about a movie I recently watched, and the word chain took on a... weird turn. Alphas. Hot. Muscles. Gleaming. Bulges. Okay, I’m good.

“You know, you’re lucky I like you, Sixty-Four, otherwise I would tell you this is not my problem.”

I twirl a finger in the air, motioning for him to turn around. I pull out a pen from my pocket and quickly fill out the homework. It’s not hard and doesn’t take long at all. What worries me is that he is showing signs of laziness, which we are taught early on that it is not good to show, especially in front of our Alpha.

Very few Omegas get lucky matches, what we call ‘Purebreds’. Purebreds are Alphas that either come from money, or are rich enough on their own that they can afford to have staff serve on their Omegas hand and foot. Every Omega dreams of finding a match like that, but that kind of dream is quickly ripped out from us, and replaced with more realistic expectations. An Omega’s duty is to take care of their Alpha, and in turn, they provide everything for us.

I kneeled down, meeting him at eye level. “You need to be careful, okay? An Omega’s duty is-”

“To take care of their Alpha. An Alpha’s duty is to take care of their Omega. I know!”

It was one of the edicts that was proverbially beaten into our minds every day. The only ones who wouldn’t know it were new intakes, who were not yet used to the system here.

“Alright, alright. I just don’t want to see you end up like me, stuck here so long after your eighteenth birthday. You need to try and finish your homework the night before, instead of last minute. Also, stop picking your nose,” I said with a slight chuckle. Once I saw that he took my words seriously, at least for the moment, I waved him off to breakfast.

“Tenant Number Five Zero Zero, please report to the Executive Suite.”

The intercom’s automated voice repeated the message twice before going silent. A couple of late risers, mostly the fifteen-year-olds, gave me a few looks. Some even went so far as to say ‘Ooh, you’re in trouble.’ I paid them no mind. This wasn’t my first time going to the Executive Suite. Granted, the first was when I first came here when I was five, so it’s only my second time, but still...

Before I leave, I check to make sure there are no stragglers and then head to the elevator, pressing the button labeled M to take me to the main floor. As I make my way to the Executive Suite, I start to notice the stark contrast between the main floor and the ones above. The first was the decor. There were potted plants dispersed throughout the floor, with wood accents here and there to give it a comfortable feel.

Instead of blank white walls that lacked expressionism, there were portraits of Omegas and their families. I recognized a few of them, so I stopped to look at them. Even the desks expressed the individual who worked there, with pictures of their family, places they’ve been, and trinkets or memorabilia of things they enjoy.

I pass by a couple of familiar faces, some Omegas that were Tenants here in the past, but most were Betas, a healthy mix of men and women. Alphas weren’t allowed to work here, for safety reasons. Once such familiar face made their way over to me, a Beta named Sarah. She usually worked as a case manager for new matches, acting as a liaison for the Alpha and the OPS.

She was of average height, although I think the stilettos she was always seen wearing helped with the illusion. Her hair fell to her shoulders in glossy waves, the color changing each time I saw her. This time, it was a fiery red, complimenting nicely with her green eyes. She wore a nice cream blouse and a blue work skirt that seemed to match perfectly with her shoes. Sarah always seemed to have the perfect balance of professional and fashionista.

“My my, look who decided to come down from their lofty tower,” she said, hooking her arm with mine and walking with me through the maze of desks and offices. She waves to a few of her co-workers, stopping at a few to either exchange gossip or updates on family life. When I try to extricate myself, she only holds me firmer, patting my arm as if to console me.

“Don’t worry, where’s the rush?”

“I was called to see the branch manager... didn’t you hear the announcement?”

“Don’t be silly, of course I did. It’d be very hard not to.”

“Ah, so you’re doing this on purpose, making me late? No wonder people, especially the manager, say you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” I say with a smirk.

I’ll admit, maybe I had a thing for being on time, but so what? Punctuality is a great trait for Omegas to have.

She gasped, putting her hand over her mouth in mock outrage... I think. It was sometimes hard to tell with her, but she was known for her dramatics.

“That is a blatant lie and I will not tolerate it. The manager adores me.”

I roll my eyes, taking a quick mental not to try and cut that habit if I ever mind an Alpha. “Right, well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d better get going.”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll tag along. It’s not every day Mr. Perfect gets in trouble now, is it?”

Saying a quick goodbye to her co-worker, she pulled me along to see what awaited me in the Executive Suite. The co-worker calls out a quick ‘Good luck!’ and unease starts to gather in the pit of my stomach. Is a tenant seeing the manager that worrisome?

Finally, we get to the office, where the manager’s name—Michael Radcliffe—is stenciled in fancy script on the door. Sarah gives a quick knock and barges in, not even waiting for permission to enter. The manager is an Omega himself, having lived in this very building when he was younger, during the beginning of the OPS.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry that you didn’t hear the message,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Sarah. “And I see you brought trouble with you.” This time, Sarah squawked in genuine outrage, throwing a glare at me.

“I see what going on here. You two planned this, didn’t you? Is it Gang-up-on-Sarah Day? Must not have gotten the memo.” She finally released me and made her way down to one of the couches, sitting down with a huff.

“Um, you wanted to see me, Mr. Radcliffe?” I still had no idea what I was here for, and curiosity burned up inside me.

“Oh, yes. You may want to sit down for this,” he said, gesturing to the couch that Sarah was occupying. She gave the seat next to her a gentle pat, a sardonic smile on her red-painted lips.

This was it, the moment I’ve been dreading for years now. While I knew that staying here without paying my dues indefinitely was out of the question, I at least thought I had a couple more years. Perhaps they’ll let me work here to earn my keep? As I thought that, a small part of me asked, Do I really want that? I sat down, waiting for my whole world to crash and burn down around me. My eyes started to cloud over, already trying to think of some way I could convince Mr. Radcliffe to let me stay, just for a year or two. When I finally looked up at him, he had a kind smile, which somehow made me feel even worse.

“I brought you in here today because I wanted to be one of the first to congratulate you. You’ve found an Alpha!”

“...What?”