Fallen Omega

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

Lizette

T he thunder rattles my bones as the rain comes down hard.

It’s like the atmosphere knows the maelstrom inside of me. The pain. Frustration. All the crap life’s thrown at me.

But apart from Dad’s death—nothing is going to fill the giant, gaping hole inside of me—being an omega is the worst.

No one really explains how it rips you apart. How it turns you into a seething slave of hormones and a basic instinct and urge to breed.

I don’t want any of that.

Heats turn you into a miserable monster, a ball of pain in desperate need of mating.

It turns me into an animal.

And I’ve only had two .

They were excruciating.

My oncoming heat terrifies me. It’s going to be worse than before. I just know it.

The thunder crashes again and lightning flashes bright.

The office I’m in is tucked right at the back of the restaurant where I work, where a number of the waiters and back of house staff got into a fight.

Over me.

I sit and stare at the storm, glad it’s drowning out the voices and the din of the restaurant.

The thing with my heat is, when Dad was alive, he took care of the worst of it with the drugs he got me. Experimental. Black market. The kind that dampened it all down, the kind that let me function—sort of.

“Lizette?”

My insides clench painfully and a dull ache beats, like the precursor to a stomach bug, but so much worse. I school my features and turn to one of my bosses, Jessa.

“Yes?”

She doesn’t sit. I’d say that’s not a good sign, but being dragged out of my shift and being told to wait in the office is bad, too. All in all, it’s rounding out to be a shit show of an evening.

“Kev asked me to handle this,” she says.

She’s about forty and nice…nice enough that she gave me an under the table job at an almost fair wage.

“Handle what?”

Jessa sighs. “I’m sorry.” She holds out an envelope, and I stare at her. “We’re letting you go.”

My throat tightens right away. “I work hard. I always cover shifts when you need it, and?—”

“You’re an omega, Liz,” she says, dropping her voice on ‘omega’ like it’s either a dirty word, or something to be revered. I don’t know, and I don’t care.

My ears start to ring.

“The fight? That was over you. And there are complaints about your scent. It’s bad right now, too intoxicating, apparently, and…” She shakes her head, pushing the envelope at me. “I can’t afford to lose most of the male staff. ”

“I didn’t start it. I don’t want—I’m not looking for a mate.” The word leaves bitterness coating my tongue.

“We can look the other way a lot, but not if it brings our business down, or worse, the police or Council poking around. You’re pretty, you can get another job. Or find your alpha and pack. If you were mated, it wouldn’t be so bad. You could come back.”

I swallow and stand. Pride wants me to stalk out without the envelope and into the night.

Common sense makes me take it, so I shove it into my jeans pocket, and head for the door.

“Lizette, your coat and bag are outside in the hall. Take the emergency exit.”

I don’t look back. Shame burns deep as I bundle into the coat and grab my bag. I stalk out the door and into the storm.

The money isn’t much, I already know that. It’s probably half of what I usually earn. But I need it. Every damn penny.

The rain pelts me as I race into the night.

What I want is to go home, burrow into the nest Dad set up for me so I could get through this hell with more comfort: my third heat.

Some celebration

To me, it’s something to be as shunned as we omegas were.

Dad never told me why he chose the life he did, and then he died, stopping me from finding out anything more. Why we were shunned by the Council and the nice packs. He didn’t like that life, and me…I don’t even remember anything but it being me and him against the world, living on the edges of society, making our life… Just me and him.

Since I was small, he taught me that I’m more than breeding stock, more than animal instinct.

“I miss you, Dad,” I whisper, as the sky lights up bright and thunder rumbles. The rain makes it hard to see, and it’s really pelting down now .

I duck into a covered doorway for a business that’s been closed for years. Instead of heading to the home I’m probably going to lose, I’m journeying into the seedy and dangerous part of town called The Hollows, where anything can be bought on the black market. For a price.

Like the drugs I need, and finally have the lump of money to buy.

“Things are going to be okay.” It’s a lie I like to tell myself.

I crouch down and pretend to get something from my bag as I count the cash Jessa gave me. I slide the amount for the drugs in my left shoe, and the money that’ll make up my rent in the right. Then I straighten and wait for the rain to stop, or at least lessen.

That dull ache inside starts to edge toward pain and an emptiness creeps into my stomach.

Shit. This stupid biological thing in me cost me my job and now it’s going to leach sanity if I don’t get those drugs.

At least, that’s how it felt the previous two times, and now Dad’s not here to care for me, and I know this one is going to be so much worse. There’s the grief, being alone, the now precarious situation with the roof over my head.

None of it helps. It just weighs me down further.

But I can’t stand here feeling sorry for myself. This is the manageable part of heat, where my pheromones might go crazy, I might go crazy, but it hasn’t yet started, not really.

So, I need to find those drugs before all hell breaks loose.

All I can do is go to the Hollows, the part of the city Dad took me to the last time so I’d know…just in case I had to get there on my own.

My heart hurts.

He was always overly careful like that.

I miss him. It still feels like a part of me has been carved out from my chest.

I start walking, out into the rain, head low, the hood from my sweater up from under my coat, and I keep to the shadows .

The cops love this part of town, and it’s been etched into me that I need to always be alert, to always stay as invisible as I can.

Otherwise…

Cops work for the Council.

They’ll come for me.

I’m an omega, one who’s undocumented, a prize. A brood mare.

I shudder and turn left, down a dark alley, past a bar that doesn’t have a sign. When I reach the place I’m looking for, I knock six times.

A slat opens.

Whoever it is on the other side doesn’t speak.

“I’m Connor Roth’s daughter. I need O-blocker. I have money.”

The slat shuts.

The door creaks open.

“Come in.”

I step inside.

“Crap,” I mutter, almost two hours later.

The rain’s slowed to a slight drizzle and the storm has passed, but with it comes complications.

For one, it took way longer than it should have to get my drugs through Deckard Price, a friend of Dad’s, someone he knew before I was born. He made sure the price was fair.

But even though Deckard’s an austere man, one who Dad always told me I can trust, I wonder if the trust only held when Dad was alive.

Dad said I could trust him, if I need to, and right now, I need to.

Loyalty is scarce in the Hollows. Money speaks here and the Council’s reach doesn’t extend too deeply into the seedy belly of this place.

I didn’t offer Deckard anything like information—not that I know anything—I just grabbed the O-blockers and left.

But now it’s after midnight and with the drizzle, it means any pheromones I’m releasing won’t be dampened by the rain. I take one of the pills, dry-swallowing it, and wait in the dark for people to pass. Then I start off, taking a circuitous route home.

In my head, I take stock of my situation. It keeps me calm, stops me running, and lets me take note of anyone who might follow. The situation isn’t looking good, though. There are no silver linings outside of the O-blockers.

Here, the cars are old and banged up, some stripped clean, and garbage lines the street as grass pokes through the pavement cracks.

Starlight City is a place of contradictions. It’s a whimsical name for a dark urban sprawl, the perfect spot to disappear into if heads are kept low. Ever since I was little, when I went with Dad on a delivery run—he never explained what he did and by the time I was old enough to start asking, I was old enough to know not to ask—to the suburbs, I wanted to live there.

The big houses, pristine streets, and voluminous trees. The lawns and gardens and glittering shopping strips and malls. There are places in the city that glitter, too, but those buzz with business men and women.

And the Council.

I have enough money with my sporadic second job of scrubbing floors of businesses that I can pay rent for the next month. And if I sell some things, I’ll maybe be able to stretch to next month after that.

But I need to get through this coming heat first.

It could be tomorrow, or in a few days. It’s hard to tell when it’ll hit since the first time just came onto me, while the second time eked out in little trails of misery until I was in excruciating pain.

The pills take the edge off, dampen me. Some omegas apparently can function like they’re a beta or a delta on the blockers. Feel like they’re not in heat at all.

Not me.

I’m still in pain, but the drugs make it so I can manage.

The crunch of tires catches my attention.

There’s a car, and it’s following me. I know because while I don’t look, it’s no longer background traffic noise but a steady pace that’s caught up to me. By staying behind me at the same distance, its pace in sync with mine.

My heart thumps hard.

I’m still in the middle of no man’s land, where the gang, the Unholy Trinity, have bars and clubs and probably brothels. I don’t go to that part of the Hollows, just the places where I can do business…rather, where my father did business.

I speed up a little.

So does the car.

I slow.

The car slows, too.

White hot fear burns through my blood.

Suddenly there’s a hiss of brakes, followed by the slam of two doors. Swallowing down the terror past the tightness in my throat, I turn, just as someone grabs me. I’m slammed into the steel of a body.

“Looky here. A pretty lil’ omega by the smell of her, out past curfew.”

It’s a cop. Big, strong, burly. His friend is wirier, but still strong. All muscle. I know because he has a hold of me and I’m plastered against him.

The one speaking smirks, his ugly face contorted with something akin to hate. I’m not even sure why. I don’t know him.

“There’s no curfew,” I croak out .

“Hear that, Harry? She’s a cop now. Says there’s no curfew. Is there a curfew?” he asks.

Harry leans down and mutters against my ear, the stench of garlic on his breath. They’re betas, so they’re just taunting me, probably bored.

I don’t want to think of the other possibilities.

“There’s our curfew,” the one named Harry says, “for all pretty girls who’re coming from the Hollows. What were you there for?”

“I was just walking home,” I say.

The big one nods. “From where?”

I can’t say work. “V-Visiting a friend.”

“What did you buy, and where are your papers?” The big cop doesn’t wait, just takes my bag and starts pawing through it. He pockets the drugs with a guttural laugh, and then takes the few dollars I keep in there. “No papers, Harry.”

“Fuck, Andy, she’s like an escaped exotic animal. Maybe there’s a reward?”

“Maybe we’ll get a raise if we take her in an’ hand her over to the Council.” He digs out my wallet and shakes it. “Not even a library card.”

They both laugh as Harry shoves me at Andy. “What’s your name, girly?”

“It’s not illegal to walk in Starlight City,” I say, trying to stand strong and not piss them off. “I didn’t…I didn’t bring my papers.”

“We’ll help you out. What’s your name?”

Panic blurs my vision. I’m the world’s worst liar. And if I refuse, they’ll take me in. I know, I’ve heard stories. If they take me in, they’ll find out. At least this way, I have some kind of chance.

“I-It’s Lizette Roth.”

They’re silent a beat.

“Well, Lizette, seems we’re gonna have to arrest you for vagrancy. So?— ”

“Let her the fuck go.”

Their faces change, and they do just as the mysterious voice commands. I spin.

A sleek black car sits there shining, expensive, with its windows tinted. It’s the kind of car I wouldn’t hear. A motor runs with an almost silent purr.

The window winds down, and I try to see in but whoever it is with the voice that could cause heat in the most literal sex-soaked sense beckons Andy over. “You, here, now.”

I have no clue who is speaking, but they’ve got power and money. Voices murmur and Harry motions at my bag that lies in a puddle, contents spilled. “Just get your shit, bitch.”

With a bit-back sigh, I do. I want to ask for my pills, but I don’t dare.

As I stand, I stagger. I’m hit by the most intoxicating scent.

Maybe it’s the rain and the storm, but it’s like the heavy air before a pending storm over an ocean mixed with sex, heady with musk and saltiness. I breathe in deeper. I can’t stop myself. The earthiness turns into that petrichor aroma of rain I adore. Fresher and more defined than the rain I ran through.

I’m in love, lust, filled with hunger. I could breathe this scent in endlessly and live out my days.

Naturally, my body wants to move closer, seek it out, and as I look around, all I can do is stare at the black car.

It’s him.

The man inside it.

He’s the source.

Something’s buzzing, annoying me.

“Did you hear me?” snaps Andy. “You can go.”

“Can I?—”

“Go.”

That go is dark, commanding in ways I don’t understand and it comes from the car. I want to stupidly ask for my pills, but any confidence I have left strips itself from me. I stumble as I obey, taking off down the street .

I don’t stop my brisk almost run until I’m breathing wild behind the front door of my apartment. I lean against the door, chest rising fast.

The urge to leave, to obey, seeps away, and I start to reach for the door, to go back and find the man who smelled like my heaven. A man I’ve never, ever seen.

Only heard.

Only smelled .

I drop my hand and weariness overcomes me, and with it, the dull ache returns.

No more pills means a rough time for me when it all starts.

I drag myself to the pile of soft blankets Dad got me and burrow into them. Maybe by tomorrow, it’ll pass.

Until then, I need to sleep.