His Hidden Omega: Alpha Security Company, #4

PROLOGUE

BANE

Was this even fucking music?

I folded my arms and scowled as I glared around the nightclub. The incessant pounding beat—I refused to call it music at this point—was like a demented woodpecker attacking my skull while the lights whirled and stabbed through the darkness, alternately blinding and then dropping us into darkness.

It was a close protection fucking nightmare. The only reason we could make it work was because we were all alphas who’d seen combat. Shitloads of it. So we moved as a team, even in a shit environment like this.

Remind me what the fuck we’re doing here? I growled into the mic clipped to my lapel.

Making sure pretty boy over there doesn’t get his ass kicked. Thale’s reply came right into my ear, even though I could see the other alpha at his post on the opposite side of the room.

We both looked down at our client. Finlay Dawes was the young alpha son of Senator Jared Dawes. The problem was, the kid was a dumb blond and an alpha of the worst variety. He was young, rich, and entitled with all the power and charisma of our dynamic.

Which was all well and good, except he was currently baiting Ilya Nikolaev, the son of Kostya Nikolaev, the Butcher of Zeleshny. To say that was an epically bad idea was an understatement. Ilya was the polar opposite of Finlay. They were both the sons of famous, or infamous, men, but Ilya was neither dumb nor spoiled. He was as dangerous as his father, maybe more so. The last thing we needed was Finlay to get up in Ilya’s face and end up a bloody smear on the floor.

I think we might need a minor miracle for that, I murmured, knowing the mic would pick it up. As I spoke, I scanned the room, picking out and marking Ilya’s men. He didn’t have close protection because he didn’t need them. He had bratva soldiers. They would literally die for him if he ordered. I really, really did not want to go up against that level of insanity.

Yeah. Shit, heads up. We need to watch blondie, Thale replied, bringing my attention back to the main floor.

I saw the problem immediately. A slender blonde waitress made her way carefully through the crush, her movements full of grace as she held a tray laden with drinks carefully above her shoulders. My gaze latched on to her, all my alpha senses stampeding to the fore as the need to snatch her up and protect her surged through me. Tiny and delicate, she wore a black uniform that identified her as one of the wait staff, if the tray hadn’t already done so. 

Her blonde hair was caught back into a neat bun at her nape, highlighting the delicate lines of her neck. My fangs dropped, pulsing with the need to drive through her soft skin and claim her for my own. I fought the impulse back, remaining in place, but only just. Instead, I devoured her voraciously with my gaze.

For a moment I was sure she was a rare omega. It was the only thing that would account for such a strong reaction. Only seeing or scenting an omega would make an alpha like me react that way, bringing my fangs down into my mouth and broadening my shoulders as I prepared to fight and protect her. Because if she was an omega in a pit of alpha vipers like this, she was going to be mine. I would kill anyone to protect her… to possess her.

But that didn’t make sense, not for an omega to be here waiting tables. They were rare, prized, and delicate. Any female with a hint of omega blood in her family tree was watched carefully and tested continuously through puberty until her dynamic was confirmed. In some rare cases an omega would present late, but that was so rare I was certain it was an urban myth perpetrated to ease the disappointment of the many women who expressed as beta. Which meant that blondie, as gorgeous as she was, was a beta. No way would an unclaimed or claimed omega be waiting tables in a nightclub on the east side of town. Omegas weren’t permitted to work without the permission of their alpha. Their sole purpose in life was to nest for their alphas and breed.

Lifting my head, I scented the air and felt the sharp kind of disappointment when I didn’t catch the full, rich scent of an omega. Even though I knew there was no way she could be an omega, something deep inside had still held out hope. I almost snorted in bitter amusement. Talk about the ever-present hope of a man who knew he would likely never find a mate. Alphas were way more prominent than omegas, hence the heavy courtship rituals dictated by the omega welfare centers.

The disproportionate numbers had led to a situation where a lot of alphas tried to catch omegas in the wild, so to speak, girls who were just on the edge of their transition… In some cases, families had even kept pretransition girls captive when they knew they had a likelihood of omega expression, selling them off to the highest bidder so they could be claimed before they were registered in the system. Organizations like the newly minted Alpha Security Company were working hard to eliminate this disgusting trade. 

But all my hopes came crashing down when all I smelled was the flat, dull scent of a beta. It was strong, unusually strong for a beta—a faint honeysuckle and lavender scent that teased my senses—but it was nowhere near as rich and vibrant as an omega’s scent should be. Like a veil was drawn over it, muting my senses and dulling my interest. My alpha interest that was, nothing on this planet could stop the interest of my cock. Fully engorged, it throbbed against the confines of my pants. I didn’t wear underwear, so no doubt before the evening was out, I would have zipper marks on the underside of my dick. 

My fangs receded as I watched the waitress. Despite the fact logic dictated she had to be a beta, that didn’t seem to matter to Finlay. As soon as he saw Ilya smile at the girl, he snapped to attention, bristling with indignation.

Fuck! I hissed into the comms. Please tell me they weren’t dumb enough to put Dawes’s girlfriend waiting tables tonight. 

Even as I spoke I had to bite back a growl at the idea of the little female belonging to Finlay Dawes… or Ilya Nikolaev, for that matter. She should belong to me.

Move in! I ordered, and both me and Thale launch into action.

The other alpha was closer to Dawes, so I went for the girl. She didn’t see me coming even as big as I was. I slid between the packed-in club-goers and reached her side within seconds. Sliding one arm around her waist, I divested her of her tray with the other and handed it off to a surprised club-goer before returning my attention to the prize in my arms.

She gasped, wide dark eyes large in her face as she gazed up at me. Instantly all I wanted was to taste those bee-stung lips to see if they were as soft as they looked. Time slowed to a stop around us as I looked down at her ethereal beauty. I wanted that white blonde hair spread over my pillow, her head thrashing as I made her scream in pleasure… Or wrapped around my fist as I pounded into her, making her come all over my thick, hard knot.

When her eyes darkened, reacting to my larger body pressed against hers, it took everything I had not to back her up into one of the darkened corners of the club and make my most heated fantasies a reality. The mission be damned. Finlay Dawes could go hang for all I cared. 

What the fuck, dude? Get your own bitch, Finlay growled behind me.

I half turned to look over my shoulder. Thale had a solid arm around the younger alpha’s torso, stopping him from getting to me and ripping the little female out of my arms. They all knew the me of old. Even though I was on the clock, such a move would have been suicidal, and it didn’t go down very well when you murdered your own primary in a fury of blood and carnage. My bosses, Mason and Dante, would be pissed. They’d back me, but they’d be pissed about it. 

All this bypassed Finlay Dawes’s common sense, hightailed it past his survival instincts, and carried on into the sunset of sheer stupidity.

She’s mine, and she knows it. Aren’t you, darling? He smiled at the blonde waitress in my arms. How about you come over here and show me a little loving?

I felt the push of compulsion in his voice and snarled as the little waitress tried to move automatically toward him. Worse, I felt the sudden tension in her body as she was forced to comply. Few betas could fight alpha compulsion, but she was trying. 

Stay right where you are, I growled, adding a push to my own voice as I stared the kid down. He might have been an alpha, but we had a hierarchy among us—levels of power and command. It had never been documented, and half of us wouldn’t even admit to it. But it was there, and I was definitely higher in the pecking order than Finlay Dawes, my growl easily holding him in place as well as the little blonde. 

Dude! Finlay growled, squirming as he tried to break free. It wasn’t a good look for an alpha, even a young one. I saw her first. Hand her over!

As if things weren’t bad enough, at that moment Ilya Nikolaev decided to throw his hat into the ring, appearing behind me. 

Actually, he said in a deep, gravel-like voice that bore only a trace of an accent, I did. She was on the way to my table with drinks. 

He smiled at my little blonde prize. 

"Hey, krasivaya," he all but purred, not an ounce of compulsion in his voice. He didn’t need it. He had that sort of bad-boy charm and dark good looks that women flocked to in droves, alpha or not. 

Fuck off, Ilya, I growled, not at all concerned that I was threatening one of the most dangerous men in the country, if not the world. Ilya owed me, and it wasn’t the kind of debt he would risk losing over some spoiled little daddy’s boy in a club. At least I hoped not, or this club was about to become a fucking bloodbath. Go screw up someone else’s day. Would you?

Bane Craven. He inclined his head, his accent becoming more clipped. He still smiled, but his eyes were harder than when he’d been looking at the little female.

A pleasure to make your acquaintance again. This… He looked Finlay, currently being half throttled by Thale, up and down. "Rebenok… this child is with you?"

I nodded. Unfortunately so.

He inclined his head while I studiously ignored the circling bratva soldiers ready to take all our heads off. All it would take was a small nod from Ilya. I just hoped the Butcher’s son was feeling magnanimous today. 

It appeared I was in luck. Ilya chuckled and waved his men away. Then we are all friends here. Let us have a drink.

He turned, catching the eye of the manager, who was already bustling over toward us with a worried expression. I didn’t blame him. For a moment there I thought things were going seriously sideways. Everyone in the city knew Ilya Nikolaev… and the fact that pissing him off was not only bad for business but bad for one’s health as well. 

Drinks! Ilya declared loudly. Drinks all round!

The club erupted into a cacophony of cheers, and order was restored. Mostly. 

The manager reached us as Thale wisely got Finlay Dawes the fuck out of there. The last I saw the pain in the ass younger alpha was being dragged by his collar toward the exit. I didn’t have time to check that they made it through as the manager stepped into my personal space and pissed me right off.

What the fuck did you do this time? he barked, glaring at my little beta waitress.

Before the little female could get a word in edgeways, the manager was already apologizing to Ilya and me. 

Alpha sirs, I am so sorry. Whatever she has done to offend, I can assure you she will be duly disciplined.

She did nothing wrong, I growled, annoyed by the piece of shit little beta’s attitude. And you will absolutely not discipline her.

The beta manager paled, nodding so quickly I was surprised his head didn’t fall off his neck. Yes, sir, of course, sir. Absolutely one of our best staff. My dear, would you like to order these gentlemen a free drink from the bar and then take your break, please?

I didn’t want to let her go, but I couldn’t find a reason to hold on to her any longer. She slipped from my grasp with a small smile as she mouthed, Thank you. 

And then she was gone…

CHAPTER ONE

WILLOW

My sister was gone, and if I had to trade my soul to the devil to get her back, I would.

Unfortunately, the Denning Heights Police Department didn’t feel the same way, or even seem to feel that my sister was actually missing. I slid my cell out of my pocket to read their latest message again.

Autoreply to incident number 57390-a1289: This case has been closed. Be advised that location of beta persons does not fall under the remit of the Denning Heights Police Department. Please check with your local transport hubs, employment agencies, and morgue facilities. Further communication on this matter may be ruled as a waste of police resources and may be subject to prosecution.

Morgue facilities.

I gritted my teeth until they ached. Typical. The police couldn’t be bothered with a missing beta. Not in their remit. I’d contacted them multiple times since Chloe had disappeared, snatched off the street by thugs in a black van. I’d reported it as a kidnapping, an assault, even as a theft, but nothing had gotten any kind of response from the police department, just the same reply. Although the rider about prosecution was new. Nice touch, way to go to get me to back off.

A sudden wave of hopelessness washed over me as I grabbed at the nearest table so I didn’t faceplant on the floor. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast… maybe yesterday? I never could eat when I was stressed. My free hand flitted up to my side, where my patch was hidden under my clothes. It was a new one yesterday but I knew from experience that if I didn’t eat, or got stressed, I would burn through it quicker. Which would mean I’d need to secure more, and the black market in omega suppressant patches was getting thin these days. The new tougher laws on helping an omega escape detection were scaring most people off and the others… yeah, they were the kind of low-life criminal scum no one wanted to owe a favor.

Hey, hun… you okay? Janie, one of the other baristas on duty, asked with concern as she passed me with a laden tray.

I nodded, taking a deep breath as I straightened. As I did, I caught sight of the crowd on the street opposite around the steps of the courthouse.

That wasn’t what made me catch my breath. Crowds always congregated when a big trial was on. Reporters and photographers were forever looking to