“Naheed,” I said shortly.
Marcus pressed one long finger against his headset. “Abrar,” he sing-songed, “there’s a Naheed out here looking to talk to you.” His smile faltered in confusion and I could only imagine what Abrar was saying, wondering why I was bothering his staff instead of coming straight back. “He says you can come on back,” Marcus relayed, much more subdued than when I entered.
I finally looked to the other omega. Thankfully, he’d moved away from the hallway, but he was now leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, all casual confidence. If I didn’t know any better, if I hadn’t smelled him, if I hadn’t felt my response to him, I would have said he was an alpha. And I would have been very, very wrong.
He didn’t move as I headed behind the counter and toward the hallway, but I could feel his eyes on me. I couldn’t help but steal one more glance as I walked past. I’d hoped to catch a glimpse of his name tag, but all I saw was a flash of gold before he was out of my sight. I still couldn’t breathe easily until I closed Abrar’s door behind me, diminishing his scent.
“Something wrong?” Abrar asked, looking up from his laptop.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, partially in answer and partially to attempt to clear my thoughts.
“No, no. Just, ah, just one of those days, I guess.” I pulled my jacket off and hung it on his coat rack.
“Another kid?”
I smiled sadly. I was a fundraiser for an omega shelter. “There’s always another kid, Abrar.” I thought about the guy up front, the one my body was telling me was mine. Thank goodness my head was stronger. What was his story?
He snorted. “Not all of them get you as tied up in knots as that Trevor kid.”
“Thankfully, not all of them are in such crappy situations as Trevor.” Abrar nodded in agreement. He employed a lot of our older omega rescues. Surely my omega wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t imagine him passing through our group and not knowing. What did Abrar know about him? I couldn’t come right out and ask him—I’d never paid more than the appropriate level of attention to any of his employees before. He’d see right through me.
“How is the planning going?”
I froze but quickly realized Abrar hadn’t learned to read minds in the last five minutes. He didn’t have a clue I was trying to figure out how to get information on the omega out front. “For the fundraiser? About as well as can be expected, I suppose. The schedule is coming together really well. The people who care, really care, the ones who hate us are planning a protest, and just about everyone is apathetic, which is the worst.”
“So what do you need from me?”
I put my hand to my heart in mock affront. “What makes you think I need something from you?”
Abrar suppressed a roll of his eyes. “If you just wanted to chat, you would have texted.” And then I never would have met the beautiful omega out front.
“You read me like an open book, Abrar.”
“I always have. So talk.”
“I had a sponsor pull out last minute. Turns out they’re not as excited about sponsoring the omega cause as they are avoiding any kind of negative press, even if that ‘negative press’ is that they’re ‘omega lovers’.” I snorted in derision. I didn’t have enough words to express my disdain for narrow-minded people like that.
“How much do you need?”
I named a figure. Abrar whistled. “I know it’s a lot, and I have plans to hit up a couple more businesses after you. I should be able to pull it together.”
“But you’ve been working on this fundraiser for six months and you’ve nearly tapped out your resources,” Abrar said.
I nodded and flipped my hand up in a “yeah, but what can you do?” gesture.
“I’ll cover it all,” he said.
My mouth nearly dropped, but I recovered quickly. “Are you sure? I know I’m always coming to you for—“
“I know I go about it a different way, Naheed, but I care about omega rights just as much as you. I know sometimes I come across as a money grubbing capitalist, but neither of us can deny that I’m in a unique position to do a lot of good because of that money.”
“I’ve never thought of you as a money grubbing capitalist,” I protested.
“But you seem to hesitate to ask me for help,” Abrar said. “Now, I’m not saying I’m able to fund your work all on my own, we both know that isn’t the case. And it’s important to get others to put their money where their mouths are. But I am always ready to help.”
My eyes burned and I blinked several times. “That means a lot, Abrar.”
We stood and he pulled me into a hug.
“Now get out. I have real work to do.”
“Yeah, like fantasy golf?”
He flipped me the bird. I hesitated as I pulled my jacket back on. Now was my last chance to ask about the omega out front… but Abrar had already returned to his computer and if there had been a moment, it had passed.
The omega’s scent was still in the air as I entered the hall, but it was fainter. Had he left? My heart pounded with the fear that I had lost my chance.
The flirty omega, Marcus, tossed a smile at me. “Sure you don’t want a cup before you leave?”
I glanced around. My omega was nowhere to be found. “Sure, give me a cup of the Ecuadorian, pour over, to go.” Putting such fine coffee in a to-go cup was almost sacrilegious, but I really did have to go, yet I wanted to stay. The pour over would take a minute, which gave me a little time to see if my omega returned.
Marcus was plainly curious about me, and it only took him about ten seconds to start asking digging. “So you seem pretty familiar with the boss. But I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to talk to my omega. “No, it’s been a while since I’ve been here.” His gaze shuttered and I realized how short I had been. “What about you? I haven’t seen either of you before. How long have you been working here?”
“Me? I’ve been here about five months.” Had it really been that long since I’d stopped by? “But my shifts have changed around a lot. Jace has been here less, about three months, but he’s a bit of a workaholic. Which would be why he’s shift leader and I’m not.” Marcus wiggled his eyebrows. “I prefer to have fun.”
Marcus was annoying me, but at the same time, it was refreshing. He’d clearly grown up with an accepting, loving family. He could have been any one of my kids in a different situation. And then my brain caught up with me.
“Jace—he’s the guy who was with you when I first came in?”
Marcus smirked knowingly. “That would be him.”
A genuine smile crossed my face as Marcus handed me my coffee. I gave him a ten. “Keep the change.” He’d give me my omega’s name. He deserved it.
3
Jace
The alley. I bent over in the back alley like a stray cat. A freaking stray cat. What the heck had gotten into me? Pheromones. Stupid bloody pheromones. Intoxicating, sexy pheromones. What a mess.
My heart knew, knew from the second I first inhaled his intoxicating aroma. Spicy, woodsy, with deep musk undertones. I had never scented anything like it in my life and I wanted to bath in it. Instead, my flight reaction had kicked in and I ran from my alpha. My alpha was in my boss’s office. Mine. Not a roll in the hay, I need to get off alpha. Not a maybe he could be mine alpha. My alpha. Mine.
My brain, it was far less convinced that the muscular Adonis of a man with his olive skin and eyes the color of the ocean was mine. Or that he was worth it, even. I was, after all, a modern-day omega and I didn’t need an alpha to be complete. I was managing quite well on my own, thank you very much.
Except the lie didn’t fool even me. I wasn’t doing well. I was kneeling on the floor in a back alley, leaning against a dumpster trying to avoid a man, the man, who could potential be my all.
My omega dad had told me about the first time he met my father. It was love at first scent, he said. He simply
knew they were meant to be. I’d always called hogwash. True mates was a myth perpetuated by the romance publishers and movie producers. Right? Everyone needs to make their buck.
Except it wasn’t. It was true. I felt it. Yet here I was, hiding. So much for being an alpha trapped in an omega’s body. Another lie I had tried to convince myself of ever since I first read my test results.
Using the dumpster as an aid, I pulled myself up, brushing off my pants. I was going in there and meeting my fate head on. Who knew? I could meet him and immediately have the spell broken. More likely, he would meet me and the spell would be broken from his perspective. I was not a typical omega, and my desires were not compatible with most alphas.
I wanted to be equal both in and out of the bedroom. Probably why I never got laid. That and my conscious decision to only bed betas. No chance of accidental pregnancy that way, no chance of being overpowered, no chance of them wanting more, taking more. Not that betas were lining up for omegas. Even they considered us second class.
Three deep breaths later, I found myself in the back doorway, searching for his scent. It was so very faint. Maybe I had imagined it all. Leave it to me to get my boxers in a twist over an alpha who was actually just like any other. Maybe my heat really was coming early. That would suck.
“Jace?” My boss and owner of the Café Om chain leaned against his office doorframe. He was one of the only alphas I didn’t mind being around. Part of it was because he was mated and that changed his scent enough to not make it physically uncomfortable, especially near my heat. It helped that he treated omegas like actual people. Which, sadly, wasn’t the norm from my experience.
A good chunk of the reason, however, I attributed to the fact that he was one of the few alphas I met who liked their omegas good and female. It took one hundred percent of the sexual pressure an alpha placed on him, even if it was completely inadvertent on their part. His mate was a charming woman who loved her role as a stay at home mother to their five children. Just the thought of having five children made me break into a sweat. But it worked for them.
“Yes, Abrar?” Damn it. My voice cracked. He was going to know more was up than me taking out the trash.
“You alright?” His concern was real. No question. He was one of the good ones.
“Yeah, I just needed to clear my head.” It wasn’t a lie. I respected Abrar too much to lie. That didn’t mean I overshared, which telling him about my meltdown would definitely be.
“Because?” The smirk on his face gave him away. He knew something was up. Inhaling deeply, I took a few steps forward, not wanting what I had to share to go further than him. Seeing his amusement, I knew he wasn’t expecting this conversation to turn to heat. He would have made sure that conversation happened in private.
“I think I may be going into heat early,” I confided, cheeks ablazin’.
“May I?”
I nodded, knowing he wanted to scent me. It was awkward and… no, that pretty much summed it up.
“You don’t smell like you are. Do you need to go home?”
“Naw. I’m good.” Never in my life had I been disappointed not to be going into heat before. It showed in my voice, but the merriment in Abrar’s eyes only intensified. Did he know? No, of course not. I mean it wasn’t actually a thing, right? Not if the scent was already so weak.
“What was that alpha here for?” I forced myself to meet his eyes as I asked, trying to hold the façade that it was a mere curiosity and not fishing for must-know information. “Anything I need to worry about, you know, as shift leader?”
“No way…” He gave a hearty belly laugh.
This. Could. Not. Be. Happening. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I was trying to multitask in my brain and I just came up with a brilliant idea.” Lies. He was so full of crap his eyes were probably going to turn a richer shade of brown. The question was, why?
“Umm. Okay?” I feigned disinterest in his reply, looking just above his eyes so as not to give myself away by looking down, which I so very much wanted to be doing.
“I do have an errand for you though?”
How was that a question? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was a coping mechanism I used when dealing with times I felt I was not in control. This time it turned out to be an error in judgment because the scent of my alpha slammed into me. Of course it did, he had been in the enclosed office. It was going to sit there longer than in the back storage area.
“Why don’t you go close the second workstation, since there isn’t going to be the normal afternoon rush today, and by the time you are done I will have a delivery for you.” He started back into his office as if it were a done deal. I didn’t function that way. I needed more information. That part of my personality had been an issue on more than one occasion. It was who I was though, and he didn’t seem to mind much. When he brought me here from the café closer to my apartment three months ago, he knew exactly what he was getting.
“Is that something we are going to start doing? Deliveries?”
I was all for getting pizza and Chinese delivered to my place, but coffee? Coffee was a tricky thing. Tepid pour over was not at all good and a mocha, I shivered at the thought.
“Not that kind of delivery,” he clarified. “I have some paperwork and a check going to my brother-in-law for an event he’s running.”
“That… he was your brother-in-law?”
Abrar shook his head and while he appeared to try to hide his mirth, he did a piss-poor job of it. He knew. He might not know the extent of my attraction for his brother-in-law, but he could sense it there, simmering, ready to explode. No, that was me ready to explode. I was still sporting the hard-on that forced me to escape into the alley in the first place. At least I was sporting my Café Om apron.
“Yes. My omega has a sex-on-a-stick brother who has a preference for male omegas, in case you were, just maybe, in the market.”
Busted. Why was he enjoying this so much? Had his brother-in-law mentioned me? Did I wish he had? When had I become a high school girl, asking these stupid kinds of questions?
“Single works for me.” I gave him my pat answer anyone got when questioning my lack of alpha company. This time, though, it felt like a lie and left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I’ll get that station closed up for you, though.”
“His name’s Naheed,” Abrar told me, handing me the envelope.
I got out of there, practically running. Not that it went unnoticed. My boss’s rich laughter filled the air. Great. I was attracted to a specific alpha in a way I never had before and he happened to be connected to my livelihood. What could possibly go wrong, besides everything?
The scarier question that echoed in my brain was: what could possibly go right?
4
Naheed
Every minute, every second, I fought the urge to turn around and find him. Jace. My omega.
Why could I not get that out of my head? He wasn’t mine, he hadn’t consented to anything. He didn’t even know my name. I’d been down this road before, believing in ridiculous alpha privilege bullshit. I’d gone through this phase, and yes, you could say I was young, naïve, you could try to excuse it away, but I couldn’t.
My parents were both omegas. You would think that alone would have kept me from growing up a jackass, but as the only alpha in the family, I felt lost. Like I didn’t have any examples of what an alpha should be. So I tracked down my alpha sperm donor. He embraced me, accepted me, showed me what it meant to be a “real” alpha. I didn’t get talked down to when my alpha hormones drove me to be confrontational, I was urged on. I wasn’t told to calm down, I was cheered! My sperm donor lived by the idea that a real alpha takes what he wants, that betas and, especially, omegas are just waiting for a strong alpha to come along make things easy on them by telling them how things were going to be.
I knew better then, I definitely know better now, but at the time, it felt so good. And there were some people who did like that kind of alpha. But it
wasn’t everyone. Not even most of everyone. With Jace… I felt driven to be that alpha again. I wanted to march up to him, push him against the wall and claim his mouth. Claim more than that. And there’s a part of me that didn’t care whether he wanted it or not.
I forced myself to keep driving. I wasn’t ruling out pursuing Jace. If I let myself have a tiny slice of honesty, there was no way I wasn’t going to pursue him, but not until I got my urges under control. I wasn’t going to become that alpha again. I would spend my entire life making up for being that alpha.
I pulled into the shelter. My sister Eshal joked that it was more of a home to me than my apartment, and she wasn’t wrong. This was my grounding place. Every day, I was torn into a million pieces by the broken gazes of the battered and bruised omegas who found their way to us, and every day I was put together again by that first real smile, the glint in their eyes, their growing confidence. Call me Humpty Dumpty.
And lately, even more of my heart was here. In a completely different way than Jace had entranced me, I was captivated by a little omega, Trevor.
I’d seen a lot of rough cases, but none of them had torn me up the way Trevor had. It was illegal in most first world countries to gene test for status until you came of age, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. I mean, look at China—infant omegas and girls were abandoned by the thousands in favor of alpha boys. Some families tested early. Some just assumed, rightly or wrongly. I’m not sure which Trevor’s family fell under, but if I ever found them… I think that’s the one occasion I would find myself becoming that alpha without the least bit of guilt.
The kid was starving. I could feel the space between his ribs. He’d had multiple broken bones, some of which we’d had to rebreak to set correctly. He’d barely been able to walk between the ill-healed bones and the muscle loss.
The rage welling in me was blinding my sight. I focused on breathing evenly before stepping out of the car. We fostered and adopted out as many of the kids as we legally could. Now that Trevor was on the mend, he was eligible to adopt out, but I’d found myself finding reasons to reject every possible candidate. I wasn’t in charge of Trevor’s case, and my interference was probably borderline illegal, but none of us at the shelter felt we could be too careful with him. He was everyone’s buddy. Our mascot. If I had a mate I’d adopt him in a heartbeat.
Embracing His Omega: M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG (Cafe Om Book 1) Page 2
