Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Lizette
I stare at the official looking letter again.
Disbelief wars with panic.
The one O-blocker tablet I took helped, but the effects are wearing off and I don’t need this. My heat is coming. I don’t know when it’s going to hit full on, but the loss of the drugs is a punch in my gut.
Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the one. Could it make things worse?
My head buzzes, and I force myself to think.
I don’t work until tomorrow. It’s only a few hours in the afternoon, but after rent, after losing the pills, after losing my other damn job, I’m going to have to try and scrounge together enough money for more.
If I eat only noodles and rice, I should be able to afford the O-blockers. And there are off cuts of vegetables that get sold super cheap, usually for pets, but…
The pills. I need them.
I thought I might wait another day—it’s already been two since the storm and the job-loss and the cops and the mystery man, but now…with this…Do I even dare go back to the Hollows?
No, I have to.
Maybe I’ll go this afternoon. No one’s going to expect me to turn up during the day.
“But first, before I open this fucking letter, I need a drink,” I say to myself.
There’s cheap whiskey and wine. The wine’s in a box. Dad was never a big drinker, so to him, it made sense that if he wanted a glass of wine, he wasn’t about to waste the majority of a bottle.
I pour some, take a swallow and then set the glass down.
I stare once more at the envelope. My name in print. The embossed logo of the Council.
And their HQ here in Starlight City.
Sliding my finger through the unlicked part of the envelope, I rip it open. A sheet of paper and a photo falls out. A photo?
I pick it up, stare at it, and read the letter.
Numbness spreads.
“Wine is not going to do it.”
Nope, not at all. I stomp off and grab the whiskey, open it and take a swallow. The burn takes flesh, it seems, on the way down.
Finally, I sit again and set the bottle down.
And read.
Miss Roth,
It’s come to the Council’s attention that you are both undocumented and unmatched. We seek to rectify this immediately.
Please find enclosed your future alpha mate, Craig Edmonton, from Hover Valley. The pack leader is a fine and suitable match for you. Please present yourself at our office at 2pm next Monday for omega status registration.
Our number is included should you have any questions.
Regards.
S. Pemberton.
“God, how…” I gulp down air as I look at the photo of Craig Edmonton of Hover Valley, again. “Gross.”
I’m not shallow or judgy. But…I’m twenty-one, almost twenty-two. I haven’t even started living yet. Dad didn’t want me to think about settling down, not until I was older, and met someone. That’s how he put it: meet someone .
Not matched with a mate.
An alpha.
Just someone .
He talked of love.
He wanted me to learn and while college was off the table, I’d been attending classes. Not putting in work, obviously, but attending. Dad’s death two months ago put an end to that, and…
Shit, girl, don’t cry. Just don’t.
My eyes burn and ache, but I’m not sure there are any tears left. The problem with grief is it settles, sits, the ache and pain and sadness get…not boring, but it wears you down until there’s nothing. Just ash.
I breathe in and look at the photo again.
This man is a mate, a means to an end. He’s got lips like a dead fish, a flattened, misshapen nose. Cruel, hungry eyes, like they don’t care about who’s taking the photo, only whatever better thing awaits.
And worse? He’s gray, balding, and probably about sixty.
He’s older than my father.
The man makes my stomach heave.
Who the hell reported me? The cops ?
But they had my name, that’s it. Those guys were tiny fish, looking to scare me. Maybe even screw me in exchange for them letting me go. Of course, they’d probably have still arrested me, but…
A cold clarity hits.
Not them.
The man with the deep, sexy voice. The commanding voice that somehow made me obey. The man who smelled of salt and dark, rich earth, and the air of a storm. He smelled like rain.
And he drove an expensive car. The cops had rushed to him.
An alpha, I’m thinking, and…oh god. I’m betting he’s Council and somehow found me out.
I crush the photo and snatch up my cell, dialing the number on the letter.
A woman answers. “Starlight City Pack Council, how may I help you?”
“There’s been a mistake,” I say. “I got a letter and a photo and?—”
“Just a moment, I’ll patch you through to the right department.”
Horrible, loud music assaults me, and I’m almost ready to hang up when the music stops and a crisp voice says, “Susan speaking.”
“I got a letter, and a photo, and there’s been a mistake. I’m not pack material. We’re exiled so I can’t be eligible for a match.”
“What’s your name?”
I hesitate, but the clack of a keyboard comes through the line.
“Is this Lizette Roth?” Susan rattles off my address and date of birth. The real one, not the one I’ve been putting down on job applications. Even cash-in-hand places want some details .
“Yes.” I’m gripping my cell so tight it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.
“First, I’m sorry for the loss of your father,” she says, and that old longing I’ve hidden deep inside me, the one that always wanted a friend, rears up.
It’s the worst moment.
This woman isn’t my friend and isn’t looking to be friends. She’s just using her phone voice.
“You see the best in people, Liz,” Dad used to say, “but you have to hide it down deep. It’s both one of your best and worst attributes.”
I’m lonely. My life means one of loneliness. That’s all.
I wait.
“But according to our records, your father was the one exiled, not you.” Her voice drops. “Actually, we didn’t know about you until last night. You have a match now, in Hover Valley.”
“I don’t want to move two states away.” I swallow. “And I don’t want—he’s old. Don’t I get to pick?”
“Hon, you can’t be in the world without a chaperone at your age, unclaimed, when you’re an omega. And this isn’t my decision. It comes from the top. Be here at two on Monday. Actually, make sure your afternoon’s cleared because after we register you, there’s an orientation, some exams?—”
“Exams?”
“Medical.” She says this soothingly, as if medical exams make it better. “If you’re in heat, call the special number provided in the envelope. We’ll reschedule, see if you need to be moved. There are a lot of things in place to protect and help you.”
There’s a thin card in the envelope that is stuck to the bottom corner. I pull it out, only half listening now as she talks.
I’m still a mess, heart pounding, fear hot and sharp, but I can’t do anything and what she’s saying is just the whole Council propaganda spiel. The real things of importance are that they know about me, and I’m not exiled.
I’ve heard rumors of digital chipping with some omegas, but I don’t know if that’s true. That’s just what Dad had said he’d heard but he didn’t tell me his thoughts on it, only to be careful.
But what Susan said about the help, that sounds like making sure they have all the information about me so I’m completely on their records. And…I don’t want to be.
She pauses, and I say, “I thought…I thought there were alphas I could, when I wanted, choose from.”
“You don’t want the wrong man, Hon. Craig is a good pick. Experienced. And you’ve been put down for a Council sanctioned match,” she says. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do a thing. Now…”
She keeps talking and I just stare at the card. I’ve never been to Hover Valley. I don’t even know about the packs there. But it’s not huge, and he’s so old, so mean looking. And he looks like he’d slobber on me.
I don’t want my first kiss to be with him.
Hell, I don’t want my first, middle, or last anything to be with that man.
I put the card with the number down and listen to her finish.
“So, you understand, right? If you can’t make it because of your heat, call that number.” Her voice drops. “Don’t try and run, Hon. The Council will find you.”
My hand coils hard. “I wouldn’t.” But now, that's a shining option to consider.
Hiding is a problem all its own for an omega.
“Good. So take care, bring all the documents you have, and be ready for the interviews and the exams, got me?”
I need to be calm, play the game. “Okay, I’ll do all that. Thanks, Susan. ”
When we hang up, I bury my face in my hands, and shudder out a breath.
My phone buzzes and it’s work. My second job.
“Liz?” The gruff voice of Gambon rumbles against my ear. “Sorry, kid. This might come as a shock but we gotta let you go.”
“No!”
“Word’s out about the Council. And you clean some places where, at night, things might get…complicated.”
“I need the money, Mr. Gambon.” The panic’s back, claws deep. “Please.”
“Sorry. My hands are tied. Good luck, kid.”
Even though I’m sitting, I crumple. I can’t lose my last job. I have a month here as I just paid rent, but when it’s up? And I need those pills.
“Oh, Dad,” I whisper. “How am I going to do this without you? We didn’t even prepare…”
Because he was strong and healthy and the accident—not an accident, my brain whispers—took him suddenly. And now…now I’m scrambling in the mud.
I pour a second drink and then another. Then I pour one more into the wine glass and head into the kitchen to take stock.
There isn’t much in there. Emergency canned soup and pasta sauces. Canned tuna. Rice. Pasta. Ramen. A couple of onions and sweet potatoes.
The perishables in the fridge will go first, but if I’m smart, frugal, I can do it. Get through without spending much.
When the heat’s over, I?—
The Council .
I’m going to have to move. Run. Hide.
I can’t work here. Maybe I can find another job somewhere else. Somewhere I can disappear. Somewhere, I think, like Starlight City .
But first, I need to get those damn pills, and if I leave it any longer, it’ll be dark out again.
I down the drink, grab my coat, and tie my hair back.
One thing I know for certain: I’m not marrying Craig Edmonton.
“I wouldn’t.”
The voice is a different deep to the man in the car. This is full of darkness and there’s an edge I don’t know what to do with, an edge that makes me uneasy.
Then again, strangers always have.
The Hollows are about five blocks over. I turn. He’s in the shadows of an abandoned building’s doorway, but I can smell him.
He’s dark. Like rum, bittersweet chocolate, coffee, a hint of smoke. He’s delicious smelling, mysterious, and I can see him being touted as intoxicating, but not to me, not like that man. I can see other omegas, other women losing their shit over this one but the hype is overrated.
Whoever he is, he’s an alpha—the darkness seems to hold the same power as the alpha from the car. I can feel it, and it makes me edgy in a way I really don’t like.
I don’t trust him.
This isn’t about attraction or my oncoming heat. It’s just him.
I don’t like him…
“Wouldn’t what?” I ask because I can’t help myself.
He moves his head and dark blond glints as some light hits him, and I can see a tall, strong man. Good looking. But he’s mostly in the shadows.
“Wouldn’t go where you’re going. The Hollows. Word’s out that the Council’s got its eye on you.”
I frown. “I don’t talk to strangers.”
“You’re talking to me.” A lighter flares, and I glimpse his beauty in that golden flash. Smoke drifts down.
“You talked first.”
“So I did. Keep away. I can smell you from here, you know. Delightful. Others might see that as you being available and theirs for the taking.”
“They know me—” I stop myself. I’ve no idea who this is. I never do this. Never talk to strangers. He could be anyone. Council, a degenerate. Dangerous. And yet…it’s almost impossible to stop.
“And they know you’re now on the radar of the Council. You’ve got an exiled father, too. Keep away from the Hollows.”
Panic nibbles. “Who are you?”
“A ghost, little omega, nothing but a ghost. And watch out for the Unholy Trinity. They’re behind this.”
Now panic flares bright. “What?—”
“All of it, Lizette. All of it. So go home, build a fucking nest like a good little omega. And then…?”
My gut plummets. He knows me. “And then what?”
“ Run .”