Kaelen (Boston Sinners #1)
Prologue
WILLOW
My mom was a shell of the beautiful omega I had grown up with. Hollow, tired eyes stared at me. I kneeled on the bench beside her bed, dabbing a cool cloth along her forehead. Her chest rose with shallow, uneven breaths, the faint, reedy sound making my face fall.
I forced the same tight expression I always wore around her.
My omega fussed, my instincts pushing me to nurture and heal.
But nothing worked. After seeing doctor after doctor, none of them knew what was causing my mom’s health issues.
The sickness was a slow, relentless tide, pulling her further and further away from me.
“Willow,” she rasped, her nails weakly scraping over my forearm. “Go. Your father is waiting.”
A breath whistled through my nostrils as I stifled my groan. The last thing I wanted was to find Dad. Sadness crept into my mom’s features, forcing me to plaster on another fake smile. I didn’t want to upset her. She needed to rest.
And not to worry about me.
If I didn’t find him soon, she would spend the entire evening upset.
Worried that Dad would lose his temper with me…
again. It didn’t matter. I’d rather he took it out on me than her.
Subconsciously, my fingers grazed over the spot below my collarbone.
The place where my skin puckered and the raised burns marred me.
That had been the night I realized the man I once loved was gone. The night I knew my dad no longer cared for me. When a potential donor grabbed my ass, I shoved him, telling him to fuck off. After the event, I assumed he was going to check on me, but no.
Instead, he punished me.
Greed, corruption, and fear twisted the alpha in our home, making him unrecognizable. Despite knowing what he was capable of, I still pushed him, unwilling to always cower in his presence.
Now was not one of those times. I needed to keep my mom relaxed.
“You’re right.” I sat up, pressing a kiss to her temple. “If you’re up when we get home, we can play Scrabble and watch a movie.”
“I’d like that, my sunflower,” she said, patting my hand. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Momma. Get some rest.”
With a heavy heart, I left her, holding up the hem of my silk gown as I padded out into the hall. My hand slid along the wooden banister. I floated along the stairs like the perfect porcelain doll he expected on a night like tonight.
All eyes would be on him, meaning his omega daughter must be flawless at all times.
I carefully moved down the stairs, unsteady in my heels. By the front door, my father paced, staring at his watch and grumbling.
When he looked at me, I stuttered, taken aback by the fury swirling in his storm-ridden gray eyes.
“Willow,” he hissed, closing his fingers around my upper arm and squeezing. I winced, already feeling the bruises form beneath the crescent marks from his nails. “We’re going to be late. You will be exquisite tonight. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” I said, the sweet words laced with defiance.
I knew better than to antagonize him. My mom regularly begged me not to, her colorless eyes glistening anytime she saw a new bruise on my tanned skin. Sometimes, for her, I nodded politely and submitted to my dad’s whims, but other times, I needed to fight back.
If only to remind myself that I wasn’t completely powerless.
Even if I was.
I was no better than a trapped bird in a gilded cage. My pretty feathers sparkled in the light, but every night, I returned to the home that felt more and more like a prison.
He released me with a shove, and I stumbled back a step.
Glaring, he straightened his tuxedo jacket, an icy indifference masking his features. I rubbed the sore spot on my arm, sliding into the back of the limo with him. My arm throbbed, but I did my best to ignore it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
Downtown Boston glittered with bright lights as we drove through the city.
My father hadn’t always been like this. He had been kind once.
A good alpha to my mom and a wonderful dad.
He became a senator to be the change he wanted to see in the world.
To make things better for everyone. Except power and greed corroded all the good things about him.
That, combined with the threats against me and Mom after he sponsored an omega wellness bill.
He changed. His need for possession was no longer about safety, but control.
The door to the limo opened, and I gracefully took his offered arm. Cameras flashed, all trying to get a photo of Senator William Sterling and his daughter attending the charity event for Boston Children’s Hospital. Now that he was running for governor, the spotlight had never been brighter.
Inside, chandeliers dripped with crystals, twinkling with golden light. Women in designer gowns and men in crisp tuxedos milled about, their laughter a brittle, unnerving sound. Dad guided us through the room with practiced ease, introducing me to alphas with more money than sense.
They leered at me, making inappropriate comments that I shrugged off.
Suddenly, the air was too thick and the walls were too close.
I needed a minute. Short, hurried breaths stung behind my sternum, panic building in my belly.
I excused myself, promising to be back in a moment as I wound through the crowds, making my way to a balcony.
The light breeze hit my face, uncoiling the tension in my body.
A waiter appeared, and I took the offered flute of champagne even though I didn’t drink. My nails clinked along the glass stem. The din of voices quieted as I stilled, frozen in place by a piercing stare from across the room.
Bright green eyes—the color of a summer forest—held my stare. My heart thudded, hammering against my ribs in an untamed staccato. A mountain of an alpha stood behind those captivating eyes, dark ink peeking out from the collar of his shirt.
A well-manicured, rust-colored beard framed his sharp features, his matching locks tied in a bun at the back of his head. I licked my lips, my feet moving of their own accord as I made to move closer to the mysterious alpha.
I tended to keep away from alphas. But my chest ached, a warmth blooming in my stomach when his eyes met mine. I couldn’t deny the pull dragging me in. Perhaps I would meet a fate like Odysseus when he heard the sirens’ call.
Unlucky for me, I didn’t have a group of men at my call to restrain me to a ship post.
I made it halfway across the room. He followed my movements, unblinking. His brow rose in a challenging way that made my thighs press together. Fingers snared my wrist, yanking me back.
An omega whine caught in my throat, the alpha’s nostrils flaring when the sound reached him.
“Come, Willow,” my dad hissed, summoning me like a dog, snapping me out of my trance.
For a long time, I had hated my father, but at that moment I wanted to slap him, consequences be damned.
I didn’t see the green-eyed alpha the rest of the night. I was disappointed, my omega whimpering at the loss. Part of me thought he had been a figment of my imagination.