Chapter 1
One
WILLOW
After a night of exaggeratingly fluttering my lashes, I spent the next day disappearing to one of the few places I felt at peace. Snowfield. The horse rescue I volunteered at. If I wasn’t there, then I went to one of the local shelters, enjoying cuddling up with the dogs.
And right now, all I wanted was to forget the previous night and focus on the skittish stallion.
I always had a talent for dealing with broken things, having an intense understanding and bond with them.
When April first brought him to the stables, he kicked and bit at the handlers.
I almost preferred that to how withdrawn he had become.
The gorgeous black stallion curled up in his stall, his back to everyone.
Most days, I sat with him while he ate, getting him comfortable with my scent. He had been hostile toward the alphas on the farm, indifferent to the betas, but with me, I was the only omega, and he tolerated me.
Barely.
Today, he grazed in the back pasture for the first time, even letting me put a halter on him.
I smiled when he didn’t retreat from my touch.
It was progress. Slow but steady. Someday, maybe, he would let me ride him.
A lustrous shine glimmered on his coat, twinkling in the sunlight now that he was eating more.
He remained nameless.
Like most of the horses the owner rescued, the slaughterhouse didn’t have a name for him. April left that to me. Sometimes I knew right away, but with him, nothing felt right. So instead, I called him my lost boy.
He would tell me his name when he was ready.
Once I arrived home, I instantly missed the fresh air. If I could, I would move outside the city and live near Snowfield.
My father refused to allow it, always keeping his precious omega daughter under his boot. The only reason he continued to let me work at Snowfield, rehabilitating horses, was that it looked good in the press.
Anything to secure a vote. And now that he was leaving the Senate to run for governor, optics were everything.
During his last senatorial re-election campaign, I was in my first year of college and freshly presented as an omega. I hadn’t been completely surprised, considering my mother was one, but I didn’t enjoy how he paraded me around like some prized pony to win votes.
I was a grown woman, but he knew my weakness. Anytime I talked about moving out, he threatened my mother. I couldn’t leave her alone with him. On paper, he plastered on that stupid fake smile, sweetly kissing his precious wife and omega, puffing with pride like the arrogant alpha he was.
Nobody knew the real Senator Sterling, the man who dealt in backdoor bribes and left bruises on his daughter.
I took care of myself, but my mom had faded in the last few years, her light dimming more every day. Without me around, I was afraid of what my father would do to her. And he knew that, twisted that, and manipulated me into doing whatever he wanted.
With less than eight months until election day, he was insufferable, dragging me from event to event. Protesting proved pointless. The only times I was free were at the farm with my horses or snuggling forgotten puppies at the pound.
Not mine, really. The horses were April’s. She owned them, but she gave me free rein to care for them. Maybe someday I will have one of my own. They were expensive, and my dad refused to waste money on something so frivolous.
Apparently, the Rolex on his wrist didn’t count as wasteful.
Feet pounded on the stairs leading to the kitchen, and I grimaced. I stared at my half-eaten leftovers, debating whether I could slip out the back door without him realizing I had been here, but it was too late.
The pungent scent of his cologne preceded him, stinging my nose. I don’t know why he wore that. His alpha scent was a light citrus and cedar, pleasant enough. Yet, he insisted on hiding it beneath a cloying Dolce fragrance, because it was the best.
Even though it made me and Mom gag.
“Good evening, Willow,” he said, with that saccharine tone that was sickeningly disingenuous. “I’m glad you are home.”
I didn’t respond. He only ever acted like that when he wanted something.
“I was worried you were still at that manure field.”
“It’s a farm, Dad. I have volunteered there for years. It’s not flattering and won’t win you the rural vote to pretend you don’t understand how farms work outside Boston.”
Dad had lived his entire life in and around Boston, and more than one article expressed concerns he wasn’t a viable candidate for governor because he didn’t understand the needs of all of Massachusetts.
A vein in his temple throbbed as he sucked a sound through his teeth. I hid my smirk, enjoying the sore spot I had successfully prodded. Fingers flexed and knuckles turned white as he straightened his tie.
“I have a private meeting I would like you to attend with me.”
A snort puffed past my lips as I rolled my eyes. The whole ruse of him framing his commands like questions got old years ago.
“When?”
“We need to leave now. Hurry and put something appropriate on,” he sneered, raising a brow at my muddy jeans and torn t-shirt. “Meet me outside in twenty minutes.”
They were my farm clothes. I didn’t bother to change when I got home, heading straight for the kitchen for some leftovers.
And of course, everyone ran on his schedule. Not like I was exhausted and wanted to crawl into bed with a book. Instead, I had to spend my night making doe-eyes at some rich prick while Dad tried to woo a big donation out of him.
Ignoring him, I pushed away my picked-over dinner and went upstairs. I closed the door behind me, doing my best not to slam it. Once I entered my nest, my body slumped as the subtle scent of honey hit my nose.
It wasn’t anything fancy. Nothing like the lavish nests I saw in magazines, but it was mine, and no one was allowed in it without my permission.
Despite how much of a jerk my father was, his alpha restrained him enough to respect an omega’s nest. Sheer silks hung over the posts of my bed, overflowing with fluffy blankets and plush pillows.
My omega longed to burrow into fluffy blankets. It had been a long day at Snowfield, and while I loved every minute, I was tired. Who knew how long this meeting was going to last?
Hopefully, it wasn’t some old, handsy alpha that I had to pretend I enjoyed having paw at me.
I wondered what would piss off Dad more—going downstairs in my muddy clothes or taking longer than twenty minutes to get ready?
At least when he was preoccupied with me, it meant he left Mom alone. All the stress of politics wore her down. Over the years, her omega retreated so far inward that her scent was almost nonexistent anymore.
Someday, she wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.
I’d get us out.
How?
No idea.
But anything was possible.
I slipped into a flattering sundress, the cotton smooth against my skin as it hit my knees. The lilac color highlighted my tanned skin. It skimmed the line between conservative and flirty. Hopping out the door, I tugged on my flats, nearly tumbling down the stairs.
The sooner we left, the sooner this would be over with.
Outside, Dad leaned against his sleek BMW. His eyes flicked over me before jerking his chin toward the car. A seal of approval from Senator Sterling, lucky me. Cool leather brushed against my bare legs as I slid into the passenger seat.
I leaned against the window, watching as we maneuvered through the one-way streets toward the south side of town. The tightly packed row houses gave way to an expanse of greenery, a sprawling lawn with lush gardens flanking a massive estate peeking out from behind a wrought iron gate.
Holy shit.
Who the fuck were we meeting? Tom Brady?
The car slid to a stop, and my dad rolled down the window, pushing a call button. Two men strolled over the manicured lawn, pistols tucked into the waistband of their trousers. I was only slightly freaking out. It was fine.
I stared, wordlessly, praying that they were well-armed security for some rich family, but they looked rough.
Tattoos covered their hands, their square faces framed by thick auburn beards. The gate groaned as it creaked open, rocks rumbling under the tires as Dad tapped the car forward a few feet.
Blood coated my tongue after chewing my lips raw. While I didn’t mind the repercussions from pushing Dad, these men were different.
If I stepped out of place, I might end up with something far worse than a few bruises. My heart raced as I eyed their weapons. I clasped my hands in my lap, catching the alphas’ scents wafting into the car on the breeze.
My nostrils twitched. Smoke and bergamot. Not for me, but not rancid.
“Senator Sterling.” The taller of the two alphas spoke, his silky timbre roughened by a prominent Irish lilt. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I need to speak to Kaelen Finnegan. I have an offer for him. One I think he will be very interested in.”