Bonded By Lavender (Omega Gardening Club #1)

Bonded By Lavender (Omega Gardening Club #1)

By Aura Frost

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sage

I shudder when I walk by the door to my “nest.” It’s not a source of comfort for me, but a place I avoid at all costs.

I’m sneaking down the hallway from my bedroom to the kitchen, hoping to grab a snack without my brother, Steve, noticing.

Luckily, his best friend, Josh, is out working.

I guess he had a field assignment today, as they both normally work from home.

But today it’s just me and my brother, two-thirds of a “pack” made in hell.

Steve is an alpha eight years older than me, and when I was taken from home as a fifteen year old due to both our parents getting arrested for drugs, he adopted me.

I wish that was the worst day of my life, but unfortunately things continued to go downhill from there.

I’d only recently come into my designation as an omega, and family court thought I’d be better off with my brother than a foster family.

Nine years later, I’m trapped here with him and his best friend.

The pantry door creaks when I ease it open and I cringe, glancing over my shoulder at the hallway that leads to their office. No movement, no sounds.

I snag a granola bar, wishing—but not daring—to grab a second, before closing the door softly and tip-toeing back up the stairs to my bedroom.

I’ll have to start dinner soon, but I haven’t been given permission to eat today apart from some fruit at breakfast, so I’m starving.

I turn the knob on my bedroom door as I close it so it doesn’t click and alert Steve that I was up and about, then I hop on my bed and unwrap my prize.

I moan as the taste hits my tongue. It’s not often I get a chance at enjoying something sweet, especially chocolate, and this granola bar is heavenly.

I’m torn between savoring it and devouring it in two bites, afraid of getting caught.

I decide to save half though, just in case I don’t get breakfast tomorrow.

I fold the second half in the wrapper and shove it in my sock drawer, far away from the lingerie Josh bought for my heats that he likes to paw through every so often.

My lip turns up in a sneer, and I shiver in revulsion as I think about him. The alpha who claims me as his. He was charming once upon a time, and falling for his facade is the biggest regret of my life. I’d probably have ended up here either way, but at least I wouldn’t have been played for a fool.

Josh sucked me in, and together they trapped me here. I have no money, no car, nothing to my name. No phone, no electronics of any kind, actually, and I was “homeschooled” after age fifteen, which means I have the education of a freshman because Steve did not care to actually educate me.

But whenever I tried to ask for help, no one listened to the “unwell” omega whose parents were drug addicts. I was “lucky” my brother cared enough to take me in.

And then it was too late.

Now my life consists of cooking, cleaning, wearing only skirts or dresses in white or pastel colors, and otherwise pretending I don’t exist. I’m not even allowed to cut my hair unless it’s to trim split ends once a year, because Josh likes how long it is.

He says it makes me look innocent, and gives him “something to hold onto.” I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away, only to glare at the baby pink dress I’m wearing.

Then I realize the way I’m sitting will likely leave wrinkles, and I quickly readjust.

They embrace any excuse to punish me, Josh especially. Steve tends to ignore me, and sometimes I think he forgets I exist.

I stare out my bedroom window at the expansive forest beyond my brother’s property. I don’t know how he can afford this place. It’s not anything spectacular, but it’s certainly beyond what I thought his means would allow.

The ground is covered in vibrant green grass, overgrown but still nicer to look at than the previous months of snow and bare trees.

The bushes along the sides of the house are unkempt, gnarly branches twisted from years of neglect.

It’s early June and finally starting to feel like summer, but instead of being able to enjoy it, the closest I can get is pretending to feel the wind on my face and the sun on my skin from inside my barred windows.

Truthfully, it’s not even a pretty prison.

Dull cream walls and furniture with pale pink bedding, and not much else to speak of.

The door opens and closes downstairs, but I don’t know if that means Josh is back, or Steve has left.

I’ll find out later when they do or don’t show up for the evening meal.

I guess the one positive of always being the cook is that I normally get to choose what to make.

Steve and Josh aren’t picky, and they’ll eat just about anything as long as it’s in front of them when they want it.

I don’t particularly enjoy cooking; I don’t think it’s what I’d do with my free time if I had the choice, but I don’t hate it.

It passes the time, I guess.

Even if I don’t get to enjoy the food I make.

My days tend to blur together, and I relish the rare opportunities like this evening when Steve and Josh leave the house, knowing I have a few spare hours of relative peace.

Not freedom—never freedom—but peace, at least.

That peace is interrupted tonight when they return home earlier than expected. They often go out with friends after work and typically don’t get home until the early morning hours, but it’s not even midnight yet.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table when Steve stumbles through the front door, and my head shoots up, eyes wide.

He freezes, staring at me, then his eyes narrow when he sees the tablet propped in front of me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” his words are slurred, confirming that they did drink, but for some reason decided to come home early.

Steve strides over and my chair screeches as I push back from the table.

“What’s going on?” Josh walks in behind my brother, and their scents assault my nose.

They smell like booze and sex, with their rotten-fruit alpha scents beneath. Despite the fact that I want nothing to do with Josh anymore, it still hurts my omega heart when he rejects me for sex with other women. I try to breathe through my mouth to avoid pulling in any more of it.

Steve snatches the tablet and taps the screen so it lights up. Then he scoffs and turns it to face Josh. Their drunken laughter is cruel as he drops the tablet onto the table with a crash. They exchange a look, and I tense, uncertain what’s coming, but knowing I won’t like it.

Sure enough, Josh’s hand shoots out and he grips my upper arm, hauling me to my feet.

I hold in an alarmed squeak, then suppress the following whimper of pain as he jerks me up the stairs faster than I can keep up. His hold is always too tight; he revels in the resulting bruises.

“You think any place would want to employ an omega like you?” A hiccup interrupts Josh’s laughter, and my brother replies from behind us.

“Yeah, right,” he laughs. “I doubt we could pay anyone to take this failure of an omega off our hands.”

The words aren’t new, but they still burn. A piercing ache that shrivels the part of me that wants to be loved. I keep my eyes on the floor, knowing they hate it when I look directly at them, and then I’m being shoved into my “nest.”

“No!” I stumble and fall onto the mattress floor, a whine trying to climb up my throat. I spin around and scramble to my knees, reaching for the doorway.

“You can spend the night in here,” Josh says, blocking my only escape. “Remind you what you’re good for.”

With that, he slams the door in my face, and the lock clicks from the outside. Their snickering laughter and footsteps fade down the hall as my hand falls, and I sink back down onto my heels, my heart thudding in despair.

I hate it in here.

I normally sleep in my bedroom, a place that is at least comforting if not comfortable.

But this “nest” is a nightmare. It’s where I’m forced to go anytime my brother or Josh feel I need more “omega time” to “embrace my instincts.” It’s covered in their scents, which is wrong, wrong, wrong, and the fading scents of other random, unknown alphas permeate the space too.

The only other time I’m in here is during my heats, when Josh invites their friends to come over to help him “tame the omega whore.”

My eyes blur and my mind disconnects from my body as the invasive scents remind me of my last heat. It was all pain with very little relief, as all of them have been. When Josh and his friends have had their fill, they leave, and he locks me in here alone until he or a friend is ready for more.

An omega needs an alpha’s knot to relieve the intense pain that accompanies a heat. It’s a time of torture, both emotionally and physically, and has led me to begging for heat suppressants multiple times.

Intentionally denying me the relief I need is horrible beyond words, but my brother says it’s what I deserve, and I have no other options.

I slump on my knees in the middle of the sparse room, blinking to try to bring myself back to the present moment. I flinch when a sharp pain stabs my finger, realizing I was picking too hard at a hangnail. I stick the side of my nail in my mouth, sucking on it to stem the bleeding.

I sigh, staring at the stark, white sheets and walls surrounding me. There aren’t even any blankets in here for me to wrap myself up in.

I hope they remember to let me out in the morning so I can go on my daily walk. It’s the best part of my day, and I don’t skip it even in the dead of winter.

Anything to get out of this house and away from them.

At least I have my lamb stuffie. I almost forgot I had tucked it in here, assuming another punishment would be coming soon since it’s been a few days.

I pull out the fluffy baby sheep from behind the sole pile of off-white pillows and hug it to my chest. Then I curl up in the corner that carries the least amount of memories, and hope for sleep.

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