Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
KAYLA
I stare up at the watermarks on the ceiling, tracing the lines with my mind to calm down as my heart slams against my ribcage, waiting for the sound I dread.
Him.
My stepfather’s footsteps approach my room later tonight.
Hate and fear tangle in my throat, choking me. Stupid, traitorous tears slip down my cheeks, and I scrub them away as his words from last night play on auto-repeat in my head over and over again.
“Tomorrow’s Friday…and your mom’s working late at the restaurant.” The reek of alcohol from his breath had scorched my nose.
Now, I gaze up at the ceiling, memorizing the patterns, knowing that the moment my mom leaves for work, I’ll bolt my door and hide from him.
A hard swallow forces down the bile, and I clench my fists so tight in the blankets that my nails dig into my palms. Months ago, I learned that mouthing back only earned me a fresh palette of bruises, now well-hidden by long sleeves. My closet’s a graveyard of tank tops and spaghetti straps.
The hiss of Mom’s shower turning on has nausea surging into my throat, and I’m on my feet, staggering for the toilet, heaving before my knees hit the tile.
If I scream out the truth to the authorities, I could get a premature ticket to the Nexus Facility and trade one prison for another.
And Mom? She’d be left alone to face his fury. That’s not an option. He’s made it crystal clear—he’ll turn her world into a nightmare if I so much as whisper the truth.
And even if I did tell Mom…. she’s a Beta and wouldn’t understand. She’s told me too many stories about my grandmother being an Omega and how she thinks my being one, too, is the most amazing thing that can happen to me. But being on this pedestal my whole life is like being locked up. Everywhere I go, there’s always someone watching me, like I can’t breathe without permission.
What can Mom do, anyway? Every day, she drags herself back home, tossing her hard-earned cash to keep him sedated with booze and false peace. Paying for the crusty charm and attention, as he lies to her, and she eats it up. While part of me blames myself for Gary trying anything with me.
Being in this house when he’s here is as suffocating as a straitjacket. I hate him.
Leaning against the cool, tiled bathroom wall, my stomach curdles. The idea of another day playing the part of the cherished Omega, smiling pretty while dodging my stepdad’s creepy advances—no thanks. The toilet’s flush is a rush of defiance in the silent room. I’ve had enough of the cage, no matter how gilded it is.
I can’t do it. I can’t stay here and let him— My cell phone vibrates from my room, and I scramble to it, clinging to the faintest hope that it’s Nexus, the Omega Facility, telling me to come in early, even though my heat hasn’t come yet or any warning signs. Part of me wonders if he’s already shattered something inside me and that I’ll never go into heat, never escape. But I will fight no matter how many times Gary tries to break me.
With a shaky breath, I shove those fears aside like I’m kicking dirty laundry under the bed, tapping open my messages.
Jess- What’s up, bitches? Time to party tonight. Meet me at our usual spot in half an hour.
Danica -On my way!
Casey drops a string of emoji bombs .
Hell, yes. My thumbs fly across the screen in a rapid-fire response. This is my shot. My out. I don’t have to fight him off tonight or ever again. After we party, I can bolt for the Omega Facility, and he won’t dare lay a finger on Mom because I’ll keep his filthy secret.
And with any luck, the Facility’s cash incentive will give Mom the means to cut him loose. Wishful thinking? Probably.
It’s like he was her hero, and she craves him like her next fix. She has been so lonely since Dad died of cancer when I was nine. He had dark blond hair like mine and a smile I will never forget. He taught me how to fix cars, and we spent hours tinkering on old cars.
With movements bordering on frantic, I peel off my shirt and wrestle a black dress over my head. The mirror reflects my V-neck, which hints at the defiance I’m trying to muster, the hem at my mid-thigh and daring. My hands quiver as I brush my hair, and my lips get a swipe of rebellious pink lipstick, my favorite color.
Knee-high boots come out of hiding from my closet’s depths, the final piece in my never-going-to-see-me-again armor. They’re zipped up with a determination that’s new, fierce, and I like it.
I climb out my window, careful not to snag my dress.
Tonight, I swear, I’m not coming back. Mom will get a call once I’m behind the Facility’s walls, out of his reach.
The night air chills me, or maybe it’s because of what I’m planning. I don’t glance back as I make a break for it. Mom’s better off without me, without the weight of my presence. She could turn my room into a rental. I’ll pitch the idea to her when I call her.
Casey stands on the sidewalk, glued to her phone. She’s a touch early, as usual. Girl doesn’t believe in being tardy ever. I wouldn’t be surprised if her heat comes before all of us.
“Hey,” I breathe out, a half-greeting, half-sigh of relief.
“Where the hell are Danica and Jess?” she blurts, fingering her lush blonde mane over her shoulder. Thanks to her Hawaiian genes, her year-round light tan is still glowing and always makes me envious. She’s flaunting her flat abs in a cropped top and skin-tight leather pants, her belly button winking from her belly ring that I would love to have one just like it. Except that’d be playing dice with fate at home.
But then she doesn’t have anyone at home except her older brother. Her parents vanished when she was little, but Robert is the sweetest Beta ever and even gave me his ice cream once when I’d dropped mine.
The screech of a car horn snaps me back, and I fold my arms tight, trying to squash the jittery feeling crawling up my gut. Every white car that zips past has me picturing him at the wheel, on the hunt for his runaway stepkid.
Then, like a blonde comet, Danica’s charging our way, her hair a platinum banner in the night. She’s all rock star vibes in a zipped black halter and jeans that might as well be painted on, her heels dangling from her hand.
“You’re late,” Casey teases like she’s irritated, but we both know she’s anything but.
“Only by a few minutes,” Danica fires back, cheeks flush and eyes lit like she has stardust in them.
I can’t help but wonder if she’ll let that voice of hers loose tonight, the one that could’ve rocked stages if life hadn’t handed her grief instead of a mic. She has an amazing voice. I heard it once back when she had dreams of auditioning for The Song. Except her dad’s sudden death seems to have frozen her dreams of being a singer. I don’t bring it up because I know what it’s like to have a hollowness inside from a father dying, even if mine is a dull ache now.
“Girls, you both look amazing!” She hugs us. “But I feel so out of place compared to you both.” Her voice turns into a pout.
“Don’t be crazy. You look adorable and sexy as fuck.” I laugh and sling an arm around her, pressing down the raw nerves that never quite fade. “Anyway, tonight’s about escaping and getting drunk.”
“Umm, where’s Jess?” She wiggles from me, her gaze dancing around us, searching for the missing piece of our rule-breaking quartet.
Omega Foundations Academy was supposed to be this posh finishing school to churn out perfect Omegas—yeah, right. For us four, it turned into survival 101. We didn’t just learn the art of small talk and which fork to use for salad; we mastered the craft of sticking it to the man. The place was like a greenhouse for our tight-knit crew, sprouting bonds that went way deeper than group projects and study sessions.
I remember day one, stepping into the fray with a knot in my stomach, only to find Casey, Danica, and Jess ditching class behind the gym. We clicked instantly, recognizing the same mischievous spark in each other’s eyes. Our first act of rebellion? Swapping those stiff blazers for hoodies the second we were out of the headmistress’s hawk-like gaze. And trying cigarettes for the first time together.
Sure, our snack raids and rooftop heart-to-hearts always ended with us getting busted. But those moments? Golden. I shove those memories aside, though—they’re bittersweet. Right now, I need to concentrate on the game plan—stay out of my stepdad’s radar.
I can do this. I can fake the whole ‘nothing’s wrong’ act and keep the nightmares where they belong—in the dark.
I shiver but squash the chill creeping up my spine. Can’t let him see me crack. I’m not a scared kid; I’m the girl who’s got her act together—or at least, I’m damn good at pretending.
“She’s picking us up here, so she shouldn’t be long.” Casey’s attention is on her phone.
Headlights cut through the night as a brand-new beast of an SUV stops next to us. It’s all shiny, and even the tires are freaking polished. Wonder if my Alpha will be loaded like this?
The black-tinted window rolls down and Jess is in the driver’s seat with a grin a mile wide like she’s just snagged the last pair of designer shoes on sale.
“You gonna hop in, or are you window-shopping for trouble and waiting to get caught?” Her energy is all bubbles and mischief.
Despite everything, I laugh, snatching up the shotgun spot as Danica and Casey pile into the back.
“Does your mom know you took her car?” Casey asks, belting herself in her seatbelt.
Jess glances back at them, shaking her head and giggling, her black curls perfect. “Yeah, right, she’d kill me. But she’s drunk and won’t be awake until midday tomorrow, plus Dad’s out of the city this week for business stuff. We’re golden.”
My phone buzzes, and my stomach knots. I glance down and see it’s a text from Mom.
Everything alright, sweetie?
Shit . She must have come by my room to tell me good night and knocked on the door when I didn’t respond, and then tried the door to find it locked. I don’t answer. Let her think I’m sleeping.
“I’m free, bitches!” Jess howls, and the others mimic her. I join in, though I feel like I’m going to be sick. I have to escape tonight. Whatever it takes.
“Let’s go to Nocturne.” Jess punches the gas like it’s the start button on our night and pulls out into traffic.
I stare out the window, willing my last night out with my friends to be amazing.
Soon, we’re parked and stepping out near the club, the music a heartbeat pulling at ours. The tension that’s been my shadow starts to dissolve. At the club entrance, we slip on the masks they hand us. Jess covers our entry, and thanks to Casey’s crafty fingers, our fake Beta IDs get us nothing more than a bored glance from the bouncer.
Inside, the world shifts. Colors splash against the dark, painting us and everything they touch in blues, purples, and reds. Canvases line the walls, showing a bird’s eye view of the city, and for a second, it’s like I’m not on the ground at all but flying. Even the darkness of the club’s floor adds to the effect.
I nudge Danica in the side. “It feels like we’re suspended in the air. Oh my God, this is amazing.”
Her smile is radiant as she pushes through the crowd as the bass throbs against my chest.
Jess hauls Danica by the arm while Casey and I follow behind them up the steps to the platform while dancers get down with the music to the bar and black couches that line the edges.
The song switches to a power ballad, and Danica twists on the stairs. “We have to dance,” she shouts over the music. “I love this song.”
We rush back down and squeeze onto the dance floor, all of us dancing and singing at the top of our lungs, not caring that the only one of us who can belt it out is Danica.
As the beat builds, so does something in me—a wildness, a refusal to be caged. Maybe, just maybe, tonight’s the night I figure out how to keep that feeling alive in the daylight.
My throat’s parched, as though I swallowed the whole Sahara after our karaoke massacre. I nudge Casey, pantomiming the universal ‘I-need-a-drink’ gesture with my fist lifting to my lips. She gets it, nodding, and I weave through the thumping bodies toward the bar.
Thankfully, with us being twenty-one and they don’t allow minors in here, I don’t have to worry about being carded and a smart bartender spotting my fake ID.
“Four fireball shots,” I shout at the bartender when he glances my way.
He gives me an odd look, but I flash him a smirk. Then I turn back and see Danica dancing with some model-worthy guy, but she’s cool, all smiles and sass I can read from here. Jess is still near enough that she can grab her if she needs help. Still, I watch him for a long minute to make sure my friend is safe. No way am I gonna let some sleazebag hurt her.
“Hey, beautiful,” some dude slurs, sidling into my space. I huff out my annoyance, trying to peer past him. “What’s a girl like you do for fun?”
“Not interested,” I snap. I’m not here to play ‘tame the Beta.’ Nope, I’m holding out for that Alpha spark, something fierce and electric, not this... mediocrity. I needed an Alpha to claim me or the Facility to match me up with my pack. Anything has to be better than home and what waited for me there.
“Come on now,” his hand grasped my knee. “Don’t be like that.”
Every part of my body recoils from his touch, recalling every unwanted memory of the hell I’ve lived with for months. I can’t move, can’t breathe. It’s like I’m frozen with a scream stuck in my chest.
He leans forward, his fingers gliding up my leg. “Out for a good time? I can help you.”
A whiff of his beer-soaked breath and the scent of moldy underwear washes over me, and I push him back. “Get off me, creep.” But my heart’s slamming in my chest.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he growls at me, then tips his chin to someone behind me, but I’m fixed on him, unwilling to look away, to show any more weakness.
He snatches a beer from the bar, throwing me a smug wink before sauntering off to two women sitting on a couch across from the bar. Only then do I suck in a ragged breath.
I twist on the stool, and the four shots I ordered are lined up in a row, waiting. I throw one back, the fireball searing a path down my throat, a liquid forget-you to the nasty encounter. I snag another, the trembling in my hands quieting with the second burn.
When the bartender glances over at me, I hold up my fingers for two more shots. Gotta replace our refreshments for our nightly toast.
My gaze flickers back to the dance floor. Jess is a whirlwind of limbs, lost in the beat. But where’s Danica? Or Casey? I don’t see either of them anywhere. My stomach knots, and I hop off the stool, the room taking a nauseating tilt.
It’s too much—the warmth in this place, the crowd, the noise. Or maybe it’s the aftertaste of Mr. Sleazebag that’s making me choke. I just need some fresh air.
Except I can’t ghost my friends even for a heartbeat until I know they’re okay.
I take a step forward, and the floor rushes up to meet me. Suddenly, arms grab me before I pitch all the way and smack my face, hauling me back against a male’s chest. I crane my neck to thank whoever saved me and recoil inside.
It’s the drunk asshat from earlier.
“Told you that you’d pay for snubbing me.”
Fuck no. I pry my mouth open to scream, but only a wheezing sound comes out, and he laughs.
Another pair of hands clamp onto my other side. I squint, trying to make out the second man, but my vision is a mess of smeared lights and shadows.
Holy fuck. What’s happening to me?
A few people look my way with a frown, but the second man gives them some excuse of me having had too much to drink and needing fresh air. When the bartender steps around the bar like he’s going to intervene, the sleaze pushes something into his hand.
“Thanks for your concern, but she’s my sister. Aren’t you, Jilly?”
He pinches the back of my neck, making my head dip into a nod, and I moan.
“Gotta go unless you want her to hurl right here in front of everyone?”
The bartender waves us on, and I gasp out a cry. Why can’t I move or scream?
Both men haul me past the bar, through the dense throng of bodies, to an exit. Inside, I’m a hurricane of screams, but on the outside, I’m mute, my silent protests drowned out by the bar’s thunderous pulse.
“Time for some fun.” The second guy’s voice is gruff, scraping against my mind like a match against a strike pad. For a split second, I’m paralyzed by the thought it’s him—my stepfather—but the hands flaunting rings aren’t his. He wouldn’t know luxury if it bit him in the ass. No, he’d sell any jewelry he got his grubby hands on for booze and drugs. It’s not Stepdouche.
That shard of relief is fleeting, snuffed out as we near a side door exit.
I dig my heels into the floor and try to stop from going any farther. They carry me outside anyway, and the cool night air is a slap to my face.
“You sure about this?” Mr. Rings questions. “What if she is a Beta?”
“Don’t be stupid,” sleazebag answers. “We’re just going to have a little fun, that’s all.”
A word claws its way up my throat, a single plea loaded with terror. “Please.”
“You see? She wants us to fuck her.” He chuckles. “All these Omegas are the same… thinking they’re precious jewels and not that they all just want an Alpha to spread their legs for.”
I want to shout that neither of these assholes are Alphas, but the world wobbles around me as I’m half-dragged, half-carried behind a dumpster. Fate’s a twisted bitch. Except I’m going to fight back. I don’t care if they beat me. I won’t give in. Never again. Submission is not a word written in my horoscope—not anymore.
With every shred of strength left in me, I buck against their grip. I will bite, scratch, and scream… anything. Surrender isn’t an option. Not now, not ever.
Despite the bravery in my mind, I’m shoved down on the pavement, and my stomach lurches as one of them unzips his pants. The sound has me shuddering all over. I whimper, fear paralyzing me. I said I would fight, yet I can’t even turn around. My eyes squeeze shut as whatever they must have slipped into my drink is still making my head swim.
Hands grope my legs, and I try to kick, but I’m facing the wrong way to do anything. Fat fingers yank down my underwear, ripping them off, and my body starts shaking. Not again. I sob, a scream catching on the tears in my throat.
“Thought you said she was willing,” ringed guy grumbles, and I’m so relieved he might have a conscience that I open my eyes and lift my head.
“Either help me fuck her or keep a lookout.”
“No,” he whispers, and bad chills race through me. “I’ve been watching her, hoping for a taste.” He jerks off his pants, his slimy cock on display, and I manage to turn over, the world spinning, and back away.
A third shadow falls over me and the two men, making my heart squeeze. I can’t fight them all off. I mean, I’ve held my own against Stepdouche and even gotten a bloody nose for it until he realized he had to hit me where Mom didn’t notice. Yet, I never stopped giving the asshole every ounce of pain I could. He healed fast from his bruises, and Mom was always worn out when she got home, so I doubt she saw much. But this new member is shaped like a linebacker. He has to be at least six four with carved muscles, but I can’t make out his face with the lack of streetlights out here.
“Lewdness is against the law, even for scum like you two.” His voice is a deep rumble that has my stomach doing crazy backflips. Or maybe that’s the drug in my system that’s making my body feel like it’s turning to liquid?
Then I inhale, and the most delicious scent of cedar and cinnamon crashes into me like a tsunami. It floods in warmth, is spicy, and is completely overwhelming. It hijacks my senses, like an addiction that I never knew I had—rich and intoxicating and way more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. His scent is pulling me, calling me, and dives deep inside me, stirring something primal. And my heart’s doing an insane sprint in my chest. My body screams Alpha, but seriously, what’s up with me?
Sure, I’ve bumped into Alphas before, and the club was crawling with them. Only their scents aren’t like this—theirs mingle with the crowd—but this is different. His scent carves a path straight to my core, setting off alarms and fireworks at the same time and turning my insides to jelly.
Why is his smell freaking me out, yet making me want to get closer at the same time?
I sneak a peek at him, trying to match this addictive scent with a face—dark hair looks like it would curl after a shower, muscles ripple with every move, and a chiseled jaw is making my knees weak. I’m so glad I’m not standing up, or I might fall.
It’s not just his gorgeous looks. He’s got this vibe about him that’s hard to ignore, as though he’s pulling me in without even trying, as though he’s a magnet I can’t pull away from.
Is this what they talk about, the whole Alpha match thing? That can’t be right. Yet my body is going haywire, as though there’s this buzz under my skin. All of this is making my head spin, and none of this makes any sense. Nope, it must be whatever drug was slipped into my drink.
“Hey man, mind your fucking business,” Sleazebag snarls.
Without waiting, the Alpha snatches him up and throws him into the side of the dumpster, where a hollow thunk sounds. Mr. Ring guy lunges, but the Alpha is faster, punching him in the gut, then slamming an elbow into the side of his head.
The first guy roars, charging him, and is met with an uppercut that, even from here, the click of his jaw hitting his teeth sets mine on edge.
His gaze locks on mine, and his eyes catch the light of a passing car. Green. My pulse falters, skipping a beat.
“You okay?” He holds out his hand, and I stare at it. “Can I get you anything?” When he moves closer, his warm and sweet scent curls around me, and my hand fits into his like it was made to.
His sharp inhale of breath has his eyes widening, and he stares at me like I’m suddenly a forbidden piece of chocolate he wants to unwrap.
When he lifts me to my feet, I lurch forward, crashing into his hard, muscled chest.
“Steady.” He smooths a hand down my back in what I’m sure is a reassuring gesture, and my nipples pebble.
I jerk to a stop, a choked gasp flying from my lips. No underwear. Damn it. My thighs clamp shut—a vise that’s not letting go. Walking? That’s gonna be like threading a needle while riding a roller coaster. And my brain’s about as clear as mud after a rainstorm, and nausea’s doing the tango on my insides.
“Take this.” A pill appears in his hand, outstretched to me. “Under your tongue. It’ll kick whatever crap they slipped you.”
I squint at it, suspicion crawling up my spine. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” I lift my chin, proud I can actually get words out past my swollen throat.
“You don’t.” His eyes are steady. “But you don’t have much choice, do you?” His voice isn’t unkind, just real.
Damn. He has a point.
His gaze doesn’t waver, those curls framing his face, promising softness in a world gone harsh. Yet I hold back, denying the temptation.
“If I wanted you harmed, I’d have taken my chance by now.”
I follow his gaze to my body pressed against his like I’m trying to fit inside his jeans with him.
Shit. I stumble backward too quickly, and the heel of my boot catches on a crack. My arms careen like I’m doing some weird dance, but before my ass hits the concrete, he grabs me, stopping my fall.
His sigh has me wondering what he’s thinking.
“You lost the pill, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” It’s hard to think clearly with him this close to me again. “And why do you happen to carry around antidotes to club drugs?”
“Because clubs like this are a hive for lowlife predators like your friends.” He glances down at the men he’d tossed in the bin.
“Oh, they aren’t my— Shit, I gotta go.” I push against him even though my whole body wants to be glued to him. “My friends. I have to find them.”
“Take this.” He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulling out another pill. “Don’t drop it, and don’t swallow it.” Before I can protest, he gently pushes the medicine between my lips and under my tongue with his finger.
I moan, my sex clenching, my mind filling with images of us together. He slides his finger out slowly, and my knees feel like they’re about to buckle from the intensity of his gaze.
“Just give it a minute.” He smiles down at me as though he’s seeing right through me and knows the effect he’s having on me.
Ass.
Then he takes a step back, and the sudden absence of his touch leaves a shocking void, like a sudden drop in temperature. I fight not to grab him and bring him back to me.
But I’m not wobbling on my feet, so it’s a huge improvement. Still, it’s confusing, this tug-of-war between wanting to head back into the club and rejoin my friends and wanting to be wrapped up in his arms again. This is so not like me, craving some guy’s touch. It’s like my brain and body aren’t on the same page right now.
A sudden shrill alarm blasts through the night, and I jump back, my heart pounding.
“Shit, shit, shit.” The blaring alarm cuts through the haze of my thoughts, as jarring as ice water to the face. What in the actual hell is that for? I squint, trying to spot Casey, Danica, and Jess in the sudden flood of bodies pouring out of the club.
I push to the sidewalk to spot them, the Alpha shadowing me like my own personal bodyguard, and I feel untouchable, as if nothing can hurt me with him at my side.
The sea of patrons is a blur of motion, and I’m just a still point in the center, trying to make sense of the chaos and no sign of my friends.
My heart pounds as I scan the crowd. Of all the nights for our usual spot to turn into a stampede scene, it had to be tonight? The night when I’m already on edge, feeling like I’m one wrong move from total meltdown mode and had planned to run away?
“Casey? Danica? Jess?” My voice gets gobbled up, just another shout in the cacophony. I shove through the throng, each ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ getting more frantic. Where the heck could they be? Panic’s not my usual style, but it’s creeping in, whispering scenarios that are part high-octane action movie, part nightmare.
I need to find them, like, now.
Everything in me wants to stay with him, but I can’t abandon my friends.
“I have friends in the club.” I push the words past the lump prickling in my throat. Please let the alarm be nothing. Not waiting for his reply, I hustle back inside and feel his presence behind me, strangely comforting me. Even if he’s the perfect Alpha for me, the Facility has to approve the match. My heart races at the thought of it.
Inside, he remains on my heels like he’s some protecting guardian angel.
Finding Casey with eyes as wide as saucers and Jess cursing under her breath, I stumble a step toward them. Kneeling on the floor together, four goons in gray-green uniforms with Omega Facility badges on their sleeves loom over them.
“Got another one,” a fifth one calls out and shoves a hand in my back.
The Alpha behind me growls, punching the guard in the face, but he gets shoved back by two more guards.
“Back off, Alpha.” The guard draws his gun. “Don’t make me use this.”
He grins in response like he’s promising violence, but I can’t let them fight. My friends could get hurt.
I push down the desire to run into his arms, which feels like I’m swallowing broken glass, and join Casey and Jess on the floor, hugging them. When the guards lead him out of the bar, I can’t drag my gaze away from him until he’s out of sight. Then I focus on my friends, trembling.
“Where’s Danica?” I ask.
They shake their heads, and my gut twists. Then I see her weaving her way to us, and I want to tell her to stop, to leave while she can, but it’s too late, she’s been spotted. My whispered prayer is that they’ll take us to the Facility so they won’t turn us away or, worse, hand me back over to my stepfather.