Omega's Deception

by Lillian Sable

  “Table for one.” His smile was amused, as he obviously derived pleasure from her discomfiture. “I assume there isn’t a wait.”

  The cafeteria was practically deserted, save for a few regulars who squatted on tables throughout the day for the free refills on coffee.

  “Right this way,” Ianthe murmured, voice tight.

  Grabbing a menu tablet, she moved around the counter and led him to a booth in the back of the cafeteria, away from the handful of other customers and hopefully out of Miranda’s hearing.

  She struggled to maintain her composure, caught in the epicenter of two colliding worlds. Who did this Alpha think he was? He had no right to intrude on her life without warning. Someone of his standing would never wander the slums just for kicks, so he was clearly here for her. She bristled at his unexpected, and entirely unwelcome, appearance.

  Ianthe waited for the Procurer to seat himself and inwardly seethed.

  He pulled a silk handkerchief out of the pocket of his suit jacket and wiped it across the battered tabletop, a look of disgust twisting his aquiline features.

  “What a charming little place.”

  Pressed beyond any ability to be reasonable, Ianthe dropped the ordering tablet in front of him. “I am not okay with this.”

  “You’re looking well, Ianthe.” He appeared completely unfazed by her small burst of temper. “Is it too much to ask for a glass of water that hasn’t come directly from a waste river?”

  She couldn’t hide a small smirk. “We only run the distillers at designated meal hours.”

  “Pity.” He appeared to be ignoring her insolent tone if he noticed it at all. “I will have a bowl of soup without additives, if you please. Are there any specials?”

  She hated having to be a player in whatever game had brought him, a man clearly born of privilege, into her slum. “You cannot be serious.”

  “No specials, then?”

  “The farmfish is special, if by that you mean it’s still a few days from turning.”

  “I believe I’ll pass, thank you.” He surveyed her silently for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Might I suggest that you fetch me a cup of hot tea while you take a moment to soothe your ruffled feathers. Perhaps then, we can speak like civilized adults.”

  The warning in his voice was clear as a bell. As much as she wanted to continue mouthing off, her actions had clear consequences. This man was an Alpha from the higher levels. He could ruin her if he chose — get her fired from her position at the cafeteria or her family kicked out of their apartment. Slum dwellers relied on those from the upper levels for their very survival, angering the Procurer would gain her nothing.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Miranda was on her the moment that she reached the service counter.

  “You spent a lot of time with that man? Do you know him? He smells like an Alpha.”

  “I don’t know, Miranda. Why don’t you ask him for yourself?”

  Miranda looked as if she were considering doing just that before her greater sense of reason returned. “You two just seemed very cozy.”

  Ianthe resisted the urge to roll her eyes so hard that they’d fall out of her head. “He’s just a customer.”

  She busied herself at the drink station, trying to ignore Miranda’s overpowering presence, wishing she had the strength to just walk out the door and never return.

  Miranda followed her to the edge of the counter, stopping short of accompanying her all the way to the table. Even that miserable woman was smart enough not to force an unwelcome interaction on an Alpha male. She might get the attention she craved with a boot on her neck.

  Ianthe set the metal teapot and a cup on the table, keeping her eyes trained on the items in her hand. She could feel his gaze on her as he watched her movements, but she avoided looking at him.

  Standing straight, Ianthe fixed her gaze firmly on the air a foot above his head. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

  The Procurer laughed, the sound like a piece of ice running down her spine. “Poor little darling, so confused about what she needs.”

  Her fingers clenched in a fist as a wave of anger and fear rolled over her. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Don’t you?” Fingers too large for elegance lifted the pot and carefully poured hot water in the cup. He picked up a spoon and twirled it. “I think you know why I’m here.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I truly don’t.”

  “Stop it.” He set the spoon down with a hard click. He moved to rise. “Some may enjoy your little spark of insolence, but it does nothing for me. Perhaps I should leave you to the service sector and be done with it.”

  “Wait.” The word spilled from her lips before she could stop it, and she cursed her own weakness. She was supposed to be stronger than this. The Procurer was obviously here because of him — the Alpha who had owned her body and still consumed her thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry enough to abandon the poor attitude?” At her small nod, the Procurer brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip. He grimaced and set it down again. “It seems your temper is somehow attractive enough to some that I’ve had specific requests for you. Consider this an invitation to join us for another night at Eros House.”

  Her Alpha’s face, because what else was she to call him, swam in her vision. It was useless to pretend that there wasn‘t a small and crazy part of her yearning to see him again. The more realistic side of her understood just how very dangerous that would be.

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “No.”

  The Procurer’s eyebrows rose in surprise, clearly not an emotion that he was used to experiencing. “And why not?”

  Ianthe’s hands clenched into fists. Why wouldn’t she want to whore herself out to the Alphas of the upper levels? “I have my reasons.”

  “Have you picked up a new moral compass? Or did your previous encounter somehow disappoint? I can assure you that you performed admirably.”

  Ianthe felt something deep in her belly clench as an answering wave of shame coursed through her. “The answer is no. I’ll get your soup.” She had already turned away when his voice stopped her.

  “Every woman is a whore, you know.”

  Her shoulders stiffened and her gaze immediately flew to Miranda who still hovered by the service counter. She prayed the overly curious woman was out of earshot.

  Pivoting on her heel, Ianthe glared down at the smirking Alpha. “Do not call me that.”

  “It’s simply a matter of supply and demand, my dear. There’s no shame in it. Nature has blessed you with a valuable commodity and it would be a shame not to put it to use. How many of the mated Beta females in the upper levels would be there if they hadn’t been willing to trade their bodies for wealth and privilege? It’s simply the way of things.”

  Ianthe bristled at that, even as his words rang with some small twist of truth. “And all you Alphas are the same. Just because the game was rigged from the start doesn’t mean you’re not still a cheater. And I’m choosing not to play.”

  “Your mother was a slum-born Omega, was she not?”

  “I don’t have to listen to this—“

  “Do you think your father would have raised her out of the dirt and into a life of relative comfort, if not for her beauty and his desire to possess it? Supply and demand, dear girl. This is simply how the world works. The sooner that you accept it, the happier you will be.”

  At that moment, she had never hated anyone more.

  Face carefully blank, Ianthe took a deep breath. “Your soup should be right out. Is there anything else that I can get for you, sir?”

  “If you return for another night at Eros House, payment will increase to 1500 credits. All other contract terms remain in force.”

  Ianthe froze, caught by his words before she could flee his presence. Her mind couldn’t help but turn to thoughts of what that amount of credits could do for her family. It was likely pocket change
to a man like the Procurer, but for her, it was so much more.

  And had the last time really been so bad?

  She could pay for a year of Eaon’s breathing treatments and buy an air purifier for the apartment that might actually prevent the return of his sickness. But she also wasn’t so naïve as to think that this transaction was fair in any way. The Procurer was hoping to take advantage of her desperation.

  “I understand it’s not something that you’re used to hearing, but when I say no that’s precisely what I mean.” Decision made, Ianthe almost relished the look of shock on the older Alpha’s face when she spoke. It wasn’t true courage that loosened her tongue. Ianthe recognized that she had to burn this bridge completely to be certain she would never cross it again. “I’ll send Miranda over with your soup. If there’s anything else you require, please alert the service staff.”

  She did not get to spend much time congratulating herself before the Procurer spoke again.

  “He requested you personally, you know. That doesn’t happen often.”

  There was no need for him to say who he was, it could only be her Alpha. “I’m not for sale.”

  “This is Pandora, everything and everyone is for sale.” The Procurer’s tone was mocking. “It’s only a matter of the price. Perhaps yours isn’t measured only in credits.”

  She glared down at him, very aware of the fact that she hadn’t yet walked away. “I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

  “I mean that I’m offering you fifteen hundred credits to do something that you want to do anyway. It’s only your own inhibitions that stand in your way.”

  But the risk was just too great. And she was no longer for sale.

  Her head was already moving in a negative, even as she felt an answering pull deep in her chest. She had to remember what just one night with that Alpha had done to her, she couldn’t afford another. “No.”

  The Procurer appeared unconcerned by her harsh tone. “You’re more willful than most, which I assure you is not a compliment. I can offer you two thousand credits, but it must be tonight.”

  “I’m sure there are at least a dozen girls, willful or otherwise, he’s had before that would be just as satisfactory.”

  The old Alpha smirked. “There are no other girls. Just you.”

  She felt her heart skip a beat. “You’re lying.”

  He raised an eyebrow at the insult but appeared otherwise unfazed. “Why would I?”

  That an Alpha whose name she did not even know had some sort of preference for her shouldn’t have mattered. She should not have felt the tremor that clenched her stomach and made her feel briefly lightheaded. But somehow, it did. Perhaps one more night would finally banish the specter of him from her thoughts and her dreams. Like an addict desperate for a fix, she couldn’t help but think to herself: just once more and then I can be done.

  “Okay.”

  She truly was a whore.

  Chapter Eight

  “This is madness.”

  Ianthe hushed her sister, even as the shouted words rang off the walls of their small apartment. “Are you trying to wake up the entire neighborhood?”

  Circe was pacing back and forth in a small circle. She had already completed enough rotations to wear a track in the already bare carpet. “I can’t believe that you’re doing this again.”

  “It’s two thousand credits, Circe. Do you have any idea what we could do with that kind of money?”

  She looked pointedly at Eaon’s empty sleeping pallet. Even though it was already early evening, he hadn’t returned home. She didn’t want to think about what he might be out doing. There were too many temptations on the streets of the slums for a poor boy. It was just another reason that she had to earn enough credits to get all of them out.

  Circe scoffed. “Exactly. You pay for fancy breathing treatments and now Eaon has run off with those degenerate friends of his. Well done, Ianthe.”

  Ianthe turned back to her sister, incredulous. “If he feels well enough to run the streets with his friends, at least that means his health is finally improving. You’d rather he be back here, hunched over and barely able to breathe?”

  “I would rather you didn’t put us all in danger by risking this again. What if this Alpha discovers that you’re an Omega?”

  The threat of discovery was ever-present in her life, rearing its head every time that she stepped foot outside the door. And of course, going back to Eros House was a huge risk, but it also came with a huge reward.

  And if she was being completely honest with herself, it wasn’t just about the credits.

  “You don’t have to worry, the alterants worked.” Ianthe imbedded more assurance into her voice than she actually felt. “We can afford the extra doses. They gave me the credits up front.”

  Circe threw her hands up into the air. “How is getting paid for sex okay with you?”

  “It wasn’t sex, not in the way you’re thinking of it.” Ianthe hated this feeling of being on the defensive. And it was difficult to fight off the rising tide of anger and shame. “And don’t act like I’ve had some great choice in this. I’m the one who has to worry about how to pay for Eaon’s medicine and put food on the table. I don’t see you desperate to take my place!”

  She regretted the words almost as soon as they passed her lips, but it was too late.

  Circe ripped at the scarf that she carefully wrapped around her head every morning, tearing away the layers of gauzy fabric. The harsh light of the room cast her scars in stark relief, making them seem deeper and sharper than they really were.

  “They wouldn’t have me even if I were willing to whore myself out to some Alpha,” she said, voice a harsh whisper. “Or had you forgotten that I’m defective?”

  A large scar ran down the side of her face, pulling down the corner of one eye and tipping up the edge of her mouth so it always looked like she was snarling. Circe had been pretty once, but no longer. She would be lucky if she ever found a life partner, even one from the slums. Female beauty was too highly prized in this world for a potential mate to settle for less. No Alpha or Beta with any standing would ever have her as a mate.

  Ianthe felt a curl of shame, as she always did, at the thought of what her sister had suffered. She often felt inexplicably guilty about it even though she knew that there was nothing she could have done to prevent the accident.

  And doing this, debasing herself for a hated Alpha from the upper levels, was one way that she could take a bit of her sister’s pain onto herself.

  “Please don’t make this harder by fighting me about it,” Ianthe begged. She picked her sister’s scarf off of the floor and held it out. “You know how much we need this. I’m willing to take the risk.”

  Circe snatched the scarf back and angrily wrapped it around her head with jerky movements. When she finished, the covering was lopsided on her head and partially covered her mouth. “It isn’t just you who is at risk. If you’re found out, both Eaon and I could be charged with conspiracy. Do you think the guardians will pay for his breathing treatments while he’s locked up in detention? I don’t think so.”

  Ianthe hadn’t actually considered what it might mean for her siblings if she were caught, too focused on what consequences might befall her to think about the risk posed to them. With an effort, she ignored the small spike of fear that shot through her. “That won’t happen. I would never tell the guardians that you’re the one who buys the alterants. I would insist that you and Eaon never knew, that only mother was aware of my first estrous and helped me keep it secret. I’d never admit to anything that would make you a target.”

  Her sister raised an eyebrow that was bisected by the edge of her scar. “Even if they tortured you?”

  “They wouldn’t do that. And even if they did, I’d die before I admitted to anything that could lead them back to you or Eaon.”

  Circe searched her face as if looking for some truth that might be revealed there. Ianthe meant every word that she spoke. She would take
her own life before she watched her siblings suffer for her crimes. But she prayed that it would never come to that.

  Finally, the tension broke. Circe turned away to sit back at the table which was covered in medication bottles of different shapes and sizes. “Speaking of the alterants, I had to go to a few different suppliers to replenish. It’s getting harder and harder to buy enough without questions.”

  It wasn’t illegal to sell the alterants or other chemicals that suppressed hormonal response. The medication had legitimate medical uses, often taken by Beta females as a form of birth control or birth-assigned males who wished to chemically alter their gender presentation in preparation for surgical interventions.

  But the amounts needed to completely suppress an Omega heat cycle were enormous and making that large of a purchase at one time would arouse suspicion. Even with the extra credits, obtaining the hormonal alterants remained a delicate and risky process. So they had to rely on both legitimate and black market suppliers, buying small amounts here and there of different variations and strengths, then guess at the appropriate combination.

  So far, it had worked.

  “Do you have enough for tonight?” Ianthe asked, concern coloring her voice as she peered over her sister’s shoulder.

  “I think so. The Miller’s closed down their apothecary after their daughter married some Alpha from the political sector. He bought them a place on the middle levels so they’ve retired. I had to find a new supplier for the extra.”

  “Who?” Ianthe asked, not so much because she cared but in the hopes that her sister would see how much Ianthe valued her assistance. “Did another shop open?”

  “No, I had to go the marketplace.”

  Ianthe gave her sister’s shoulder a light squeeze. Circe hated the marketplace, the crush of people made her self-conscious about her scars and anxious to be back in the safety of their apartment. But she had braved it to get what they needed. “Thank you.”

  Her sister shrugged her off, but a small smile curved her unscarred cheek. “A Beta male, one I’ve never met before, had set up a stand selling medical supplies. It was lucky he had a small amount of alterants. He wasn’t very nice about it, made a big show of digging around in his case for the right bottles and sighing the whole time. You should thank me just for putting up with him.”