He’s never known who he truly is, and this alpha is about to turn his world upside down.
Isaiah grew up without knowing the love and stability of a family. His parents died in a car accident when he was a toddler, and for years he bounced around between foster families and group homes, never really fitting in, until he ended up on the streets as a teen. He’s been arrested, he’s tried different ways of coping—none of them healthy—and still he feels lost and alone.
When he tries to rob the wrong house, his life is turned inside out. The homeowner keeps telling him he’s a werewolf, and an omega at that. Isaiah is convinced that Marcus is crazy, but then Marcus shifts in front of him, ruining the simple view Isaiah had of the world.
Isaiah is suddenly thrown into a new life and a new home, with people who want him around. It’s wonderful and scary, and Isaiah is convinced that Marcus is making a huge mistake with him, but he’s desperate to believe, too.
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Lost Omega
Copyright © 2020 Caitlin Ricci
ISBN: 978-1-4874-2757-3
Cover art by Martine Jardin
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Lost Omega
Omegas Book 3
By
Caitlin Ricci
Lost Omega
Marcus woke up at some ungodly hour with rain pouring outside and thunder shaking the old windowpanes beside his bed. He lay in bed and listened to the house around him, trying to pick out the sound that had woken him up. It wasn’t the rain, or the thunder. It was fall in southern Missouri, and the rain had been around for the better part of a day and well into the night.
There. The sound of footsteps a few rooms away from where he was lying. Slowly Marcus sat up. He sighed. It wasn’t one of his betas. They would have knocked on the front door to let him know they were around. So it had to be some human who had decided to break into his house tonight, and Marcus really didn’t have the energy to deal with humans right now.
He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts. Maybe, if he was very lucky, he could get this disturbance taken care of and over with quickly and then he could get back to bed. It wasn’t even really his bed. It wasn’t even really his house. He owned it, but he was just there to make sure the cabinet installers got there in the morning. The house was set to be the newest rental for the pack, if the remodeling could ever get done.
But none of that mattered if he couldn’t get this human out of the house and away from his pack. The human was easy for Marcus to find. He was noisy. Even his breathing was too loud, not to mention the heavy steps he took on the brand-new bamboo flooring Marcus had just finished helping install. He huffed in irritation and was half tempted to shift and see just how much he could scare this little human by showing himself as a wolf. But shifting took time and energy, and he was too tired for it right then.
So he simply joined the man in the empty study and turned on the light, surprising him. For a moment the intruder simply looked at Marcus, the shock in his expression clear even if Marcus could only see his eyes and mouth through the black knit ski mask.
But then he ran. Not toward the front door, which would have been smart, but toward the back of the house. Marcus figured that must have been how he’d come in and, as he quietly followed after him, he found out that he was right when he caught sight of the broken window pane next to the back door that the man had shattered to be able to unlock the door. Marcus shook his head. He sped up and grabbed the man by the back of the shirt, pulling him down roughly onto the floor.
The man cried out and grabbed his head, whimpering from what Marcus assumed was considerable pain. Thankfully the injury hadn’t caused the man to bleed.
Marcus knelt down on the intruder’s chest, pressing his knee against the man’s sternum to hold him in place. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Marcus snapped at him. He pulled the mask off, revealing a guy who was likely in his early twenties and looked tired. Marcus had never seen someone that looked more exhausted by the world than this man did. It was in his eyes, in the lines around them. In the cracks on his lips and the old bruises on his face that were already being framed by new ones.
Pitying him was easy, but Marcus pitied most humans. They were too rough with each other, too quick to hurt each other for no reason. They were like the werewolves. They had no sense of community outside of their own limited families. Seeing the damage that had already been done to him, Marcus eased up a little on the man’s sternum. There was no reason he should try to hurt him, too. “What’s your name?”
“I’m not telling you shit.”
Marcus snorted. There was certainly no reason to start cursing. “I guess I’ll just call the police, then, and let them handle you. Humans should deal with humans, after all.”
The man’s eyes got wide and Marcus silently swore. He must have been more tired than he’d originally thought to let that stray thought slip. He stood up to go get his phone. “Stay right there. If you move, I’ll drop you on your ass again.”
It wasn’t more than a few seconds with his back turned before the man was up and running again. Marcus didn’t make idle threats, though. He caught up to him, grabbed him by his hair, and tossed him on the floor again, this time on his shoulder, which definitely popped on impact. Marcus cringed at the sound, and at the man’s cry of pain.
“It’s your own fault,” Marcus told him. “Next time someone gives you a warning, maybe you’ll listen.” He walked off to get his phone and came back to find the man now sitting up, but he hadn’t moved more than that.
His eyes were filled with pain and anger, but he held his tongue as Marcus started to call the police. He sat down on the floor across from the man, though. There weren’t many places to sit in the house yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to invite him to share the bed he’d been so rudely woken up from. He hesitated before pressing send on his cell. “What’s your name?” he asked again.
“Why do you care?”
So much anger and pain. Marcus really had no idea why he was so curious. It would be been better just to hand the human off to his human police and then get on with his night. If he was lucky, he’d get a few more hours of sleep and then in the morning he would call to have the glass repaired. So why did he care what the man’s name was? “Simple curiosity. It’s been a long time since anyone broke into a house I was staying in.”
“No one was supposed to be here. This place has been empty for months.”
While that was true, it really didn’t explain what the man was doing there. “So you came to rob an empty house? Of what? The closet doors?”
“Copper wiring.” He sounded ashamed
of it.
Marcus hadn’t even considered that. “Big money in copper these days?”
“Enough to get some food sometimes.”
Sighing, Marcus shook his head. His would-be burglar needed help, clearly, and Marcus had a soft spot for people in need, no matter what species they were. “Get up. I’ll make you a sandwich before you get arrested.”
“Poison sandwich?”
“Not unless you keep pushing me,” Marcus shot back as he left the hall.
The man who would not tell him his name followed behind him. If he had been a guest, Marcus would have insisted that he take his boots off at the door. They were bound to leave marks in the new floor, if they hadn’t already.
They stood at the kitchen island. There were no bar stools yet, or even a dining room table. They were lucky, Marcus supposed, that he’d even thought to bring bread to make himself a snack. He laid the bread out on the counter. The mayo thankfully was the squeeze kind, so utensils weren’t required as he built them both a few simple cheese sandwiches. He’d brought some bottles of tea as well and he handed one to the man, along with the sandwich.
The man said nothing as he ate, not that Marcus had really expected him to open up about his life up until that point. But still, Marcus had questions. “Are you being abused at home, wherever that is?”
The man shook his head. “Got into a fight.”
It looked like multiple fights, spanned over a few days if Marcus had to take a guess, but he didn’t argue that point. “Where are you from?” Marcus tried instead.
“Why do you care?”
He was right, there was no reason Marcus should be asking personal questions from a man who wouldn’t even give him his name. A crisp fall breeze snuck in through the broken window, making Marcus shiver. He caught the scent of something that had his full attention. There was another werewolf nearby. He took another deep breath. The breeze might have helped make the scent obvious to him, but the werewolf was close by, and Marcus suddenly wondered why he was so dumb that he hadn’t noticed what was right in front of him. “What pack are you from?”
“Pack of what?” The man’s confusion was believable, but Marcus didn’t think it was genuine for a moment.
Someone had sent this wolf to his doorstep. Hiding under the stink of human filth, the man was clearly a werewolf like him. Marcus didn’t know what his purpose was, but he was glad that he hadn’t ended up calling the human police after all. This was a werewolf issue. They would handle it as werewolves did. “Your pack? Now.” Marcus didn’t hold back on his growl, or the snapping of his teeth. The man’s eyes went wide. Marcus was surprised to see the fear in his expression. That wasn’t so easy to fake.
“Please, just let me go. Please.”
Marcus cocked his head to the side. The fear, the begging...they were unexpected. Werewolves generally didn’t beg. They weren’t violent, not generally, and not to the extreme that most human movies made them out to be. If there was a problem, then they took care of it, but those kinds of incidents were few and far between. Marcus hadn’t had anyone beg from him, except for during sex, in a very long time. “Your name and your pack. I won’t ask you again.”
“Isaiah.” He licked his lips nervously. “My name is Isaiah. But I don’t know what pack you’re talking about. I swear. Please let me go. I won’t come back here. I’ll stay way far away.”
Isaiah’s fear was obvious, and Marcus had no idea why. It was a simple question. This kind of reaction shouldn’t be happening. There was something very wrong here, though Marcus didn’t have the slightest idea of what it could be. He shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts. “I’m Marcus. I’m an alpha. And you’re a werewolf. Let’s start there with the basics.”
Isaiah just looked more confused than ever. “Werewolves aren’t real. You’re high. Or crazy.”
Sometimes Marcus felt crazy for sure, especially when he helped out with the pack’s growing number of young children, but this was definitely not one of those times. “Come clean with me, Isaiah. Tell me the truth. Who is your alpha? I’ll return you there tonight. They can pay me for the window you broke.”
Isaiah shook his head though. “I’m telling you the truth. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you’re really starting to freak me out.”
Marcus had no clue why Isaiah was lying, and continuing to do so with such conviction, but he was sure that he was. He shifted just his face, just enough to get Isaiah to stop lying to him. As an alpha, his shift should have caused Isaiah to begin shifting as well, since they were so close together. His shift would force others—it was a domino effect in times of trouble or to get others through a difficult shift. It was also why he generally didn’t shift with the rest of his pack nearby.
Only Isaiah didn’t shift. He ran. He bolted for the back door and tripped as he ran. Marcus didn’t have to do much to catch up to him. He just had to get up and walk over to him as he lay there on the floor. But when he forced his face back to his human one and knelt down next to Isaiah, the man was clearly terrified of him. He was shaking, and when Marcus reached for him, he jerked himself away. There was no faking that level of a reaction to him. Isaiah could have been good at acting, but this level of fear was real. Marcus just didn’t understand any of it.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Marcus promised him. “That really should have worked.”
“What should have? Scaring me? Because that definitely worked.”
“No. I...” Marcus shook his head with a sigh. “You really have no idea what you are, do you?”
Isaiah’s expression didn’t change. He still looked just as terrified of him as before.
Marcus made a decision, one which he didn’t love, but in this situation he really didn’t have another choice. “You’re coming back to the pack with me. Tonight. You’re a werewolf, and I don’t know who you are or where you’re from, but I am going to find out for sure.”
“You can’t just kidnap me and take me somewhere. I—”
Marcus clamped his hand over Isaiah’s mouth. He was exhausted. He was annoyed. But he was still an alpha, and he could still command the wolves around him. “Enough. Sit up and be quiet until I’m ready to go.”
But Isaiah didn’t move when Marcus let him go. He just looked confused and still very scared, as if Marcus’s simple command had had absolutely no effect on him.
“Shit.” Marcus swayed back on his heels. The only reason Isaiah should have been able to resist one of his direct commands was if he was an omega. They were outside of the pack’s structure, and therefore immune to an alpha’s commands. Which meant that he’d been rough with one of the most vulnerable, most sacred of werewolves possible. “You’re an omega. Rest for now. You can take the bed.”
Isaiah didn’t say anything as he sat up. He simply stared at Marcus, who figured that silence was better than Isaiah’s previous confusion and fear.
“I’m not crazy. Right? I saw something. You face did...something.” Isaiah had taken a few moments to gather his thoughts. And Marcus was glad of where they were headed.
Marcus nodded. “I did a partial shift. If you were anything other than an omega, you should have started to shift too.”
“I’m human, though.”
He sounded so sure of himself. Marcus really hated to burst his world view like this, but it was unavoidable. “You’re really not human. I’m sorry. I know this must be a lot to take in. My pack and I will make this as easy on you as possible. I promise.”
Isaiah looked so scared and lost and Marcus really wished he was better at talking to others so that he had something helpful to say, but he’d never met anyone who didn’t know from an early age that they were a werewolf. “Do you ever have dreams where you’re running as a wolf maybe?” As a child he’d gotten them all the time, and before he’d really been able to control his shifts, those dreams had been a comfort to him.
“I don’t really dream. Not anymore. It’s been a r
ough—I guess that’s a good word for it—yeah, it’s been a rough few years.” Isaiah pushed his long sleeves up and wrapped his arms around his knees, but not before Marcus caught sight of the small bruises and angry looking red holes that dotted his inner elbows.
“Getting high doesn’t work for us. Don’t try it again.” Marcus wasn’t being gentle or nice. He was giving an order.
Isaiah slowly blinked at him as if he was trying to figure Marcus out and having a hard time with it. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not good for you,” Marcus snapped at him.
But Isaiah shook his head. “No. Sorry. I meant, why can’t I—we—get high? What would do it?”
Marcus didn’t hold back this time. Isaiah’s question infuriated him. Here he was, an omega, a precious gift for any pack to have, and he wanted to get high? Marcus wasn’t having it. He shifted. He ignored the pain and the ringing in his ears and the itch that came with his skin stretching only to shrink back in on itself again. Being a wolf was safer in that moment. It kept him from saying something he might have later regretted. He would have likely regretted what he wanted to say right away, actually. He wanted to tell Isaiah that he was a moron and he didn’t deserve to be a werewolf at all, much less an omega, if he was just going to try to throw it all away so ridiculously. He stormed off, barely resisting the urge to growl at Isaiah in passing.
It wasn’t until he was at the other end of the house that he realized just how scared and plain freaked out Isaiah had looked in the wake of his shift. Marcus lay down on his side and tried to be reasonable about it all. He didn’t know Isaiah’s history. Maybe things hadn’t been amazing for him in his life. Maybe they weren’t that way now, either. After all, he had tried to burglarize a house. That didn’t usually go with a loving and supportive home life from birth.
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