Chapter 1

Chapter

One

I've always been good at routines. Routines were the things that held your life together Without them, everything that had been held together in my life for the past six years, by super glue and a simple will to survive in this messed up world, would fall apart. I couldn't let that happen.

I didn't want to know what would happen if I did.

So, I followed the routine.

It was the "stay safe, stay alive" routine.

Every day for the past few years, I woke up at the same time to the same alarm that only made me somewhat jump out of my skin before the sun even rose.

Climbing out of bed in the tiny two-bedroom apartment I lived in with my best (and quite frankly, only) friend, Rita, I headed straight for the shower. I scrubbed a small yet workable dollop of scent-blocking soap into my skin. I was rough enough that I could almost see red marks from my loofa, but I needed to make sure that it would stick.

After that, I would eat a handful of whatever health cereal Rita had bought, though she wasn't much better than me when it came to stocking the fridge or cabinets.

We lived on a strict budget—one that at least I needed to stick to, so I had enough for other necessities. That meant no brand names. No five-dollar lattes that made me want to drool whenever I saw one of the students in the library caring one on Prestford's renowned campus while I drank the librarian's burnt coffee near the archival corner of the basement.

The only essential my life revolved around completely after I dried my hair and got dressed was the one hidden in my medicine cabinet.

Today, I looked at the remnants of it sitting in the palm of my hand.

I counted the small white pills.

I counted them again.

I only had five suppressants left.

My supply of medicinal blockers wasn't looking much better.

Crinkling my brow, I stared at myself in the mirror. In front of me was the girl who could pass as any other beta. It was actually kind of easy, once you got passed all the struggle and hardship that came with the pills and extra precautions that I took that made me look a lot more like a simple, academic, slightly hermit-esque beta who was nothing special. I had been managing for the past six years.

Certainly, if I kept it up, no one would ever see me as what I actually was ever again.

A rare, problem-causing, omega.

I swallowed and looked back down. Rolling the pills between my fingers, I took one last count.

With the pills, everything could go right in my life. I didn't have to worry about anyone figuring out what I was hiding. I wasn't exactly stunning. I was a little too skinny. My blond hair was a little too dark and too stringy. And I didn't have the means to change that.

I only had to focus on the math.

If I rationed the tiny, almost insignificant pills, maybe it would be okay for at least the next week. If I took half the average amount of blocker pills to keep my scent from becoming anything more than a bland remnant of sweet and floral soap, and one full dose of the actual suppressant to make sure no one would figure out why I was taking them in the first place, I could make it to Friday.

Yeah, that was it. I could still make it to the end of the week.

I threw the half dose of pills back and washed them down with tap water, leaving my tongue with a chalky sensation.

The chemical taste followed me back towards the other door of the apartment where Rita's phone blared with her alarm that sounded like a mix between rock and roll and a nuclear war siren.

I knocked.

"Wait—what?" I heard Rita's blurry voice through the door.

"Time to get up!" I called.

Usually, I left it as that as I headed to work. She didn't have to be on campus for another hour. I creaked the door open.

A span of light hit Rita's face.

"Ugh," Rita blinked open her dark eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. "You're going to be late if you don't get up."

She huffed, but through her legs over the side, hitting her alarm until it finally turned off.

I stood in the doorway.

"Now I know something is wrong," she said, staring at me with a half-hidden gaze.

I shook my head again, hating what I was going to ask as I cleared my throat. "Have you heard back from your friend yet? About my pills?"

There was only one favor I'd ever ask of Rita. I barely needed to say a word. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

She knew everything.

It was hard for her not to know after she found out after a disastrous moment of me losing my suppressants during our first year living together.

There was nothing to bond two roommates together than one almost going into an accidental heat.

Purchasing suppressors and blockers was also not the most legal of pastimes. Sure, an omega could always be prescribed if you had enough money or if you were willing to have your name on the books from a doctor's office– ie. making me a danger to society and officially on an Omega list somewhere– but I never could go that route.

Over the past few years, my up and down reactions as well as anxiety from getting the pills on the black market steadied out with the help of Rita and her wide variety of friends. Working in STEM, she easily tracked down someone who knew someone to sell them to me straight from the lab– with little to no questioning.

It wasn't as if Rita was an omega, nor had the time to harbor one, even if the guilt of her also somehow getting caught kept me awake most nights after a new order of them finally came in to keep my secret a little while longer.

Rubbing her eyes, Rita shook her head. "Is it getting bad?"

"I can make it through the week," I answered honestly.

She let out a deep breath. "I'll call him this morning again. Hopefully, he can ship them out from the lab overnight."

"Thank you, Rita."

"Uh-huh. Now go and leave me to sleep through my second alarm." She slumped back on the bed.

I chuckled and shut the door before walking the two blocks I walked to work at Prestford University Library in my same uniform of business casual slacks and blouse.

To anyone else, I would look just like a student on a campus. Or if they knew me enough, they'd see me as what I was, just another junior library assistant who was hired after begging for the job the moment I stepped onto campus and saw the student help wanted sign.

I wasn't a student, but somehow, thankfully— maybe it was the desperation in my eyes— they made an exception, much like Rita did when I ripped a piece of paper off her "Roommate Wanted" flyer when she was still in her junior year of college compared to her Ph.D. now that kept her at the college and with me.

Intentionally or not, I was grateful Rita stuck around with me as she continued her studies as truly another beta on a beta and alpha-filled campus exceeding all expectations.

Because in a world filled with alphas, omegas, and betas, the alphas always won. Always.

Omegas came last.

Omegas weren't even technically allowed to go to school here. At the very least not without a chaperon guiding them throughout every single day. They would be too much of a distraction to the rest of the student body.

Not to mention that omegas were, and I quoted, "slaves to their hormones," and likely wouldn't be able to complete their courses.

I looked around at the slightly hung-over student body already in the library this morning. Most were hunched over their computers and extra-large eco-friendly paper cups of coffee from the caffeination station in the corner that the junior assistants took turns refilling every one to two hours with how they went through it.

I wanted to roll my eyes.

"Good morning." The front desk library assistant called out in a high-pitched trill.

She was about my age compared to the older workers, and she gave me a tired wave as I made my way through the front door. She clicked off the circulation desktop in preparation to hand it over to the next person.

Hopefully, they'd arrive to relieve her soon, though that person was never me.

The front desk was too visible, too risky.

"Morning, Jane. How was the night shift?" I kept my voice light and quiet.

Already a few overtired undergraduate students were filing in behind me with their extra-large cups of espresso from the cafe around the corner.

I stared after them, smelling the hint of caramel and spice.

Jane sighed, resting her temple against her fist. The angle made the dark circles under her eyes all the more prevalent. "No one in the stacks, thank goodness."

I chuckled.

For some reason between the hours of eleven and one in the morning, the Prestford University student body got oddly horny to get it on in public spaces.

I adjusted my tote bag with extra work I took home the night before to stay on top of all the projects I had piling up. "Sounds like a positive direction. Have a good rest of your day."

"You too– Oh, wait!"

Freezing, halfway towards the steps leading down to the basement level of the library, I twisted back.

This was not part of our usual morning greeting routine.

The bleached ends of my hair caught on my chin before I tucked my hair back behind my ears. "Yes?"

Jane leaned over the desk to catch me. "Mr. Wolfern requested to speak with our junior archivist."

"Junior archivist?" I was just a library assistant, but a junior archivist? I never thought that I would ever hear my name attached to an actual librarian title. To be a librarian, you usually didn't need just a degree, but an advanced degree.

I had neither. If I did, I couldn't imagine the difference my life would be like.

The money. The stability.

I blinked a few times, unsure if I heard her correctly. I hadn't had any caffeine this morning yet, so there was a possibility that I hadn't. "Mr. Wolfern?"

"The new head librarian?" Jane raised her dark perfectly sculpted brows. "He started two weeks ago?"

Still didn't ring a bell.

It was probably a very bad thing that it wasn't ringing a bell.

"It's ok. He's only been in a few times since he started. He's already set up in the back corner office. Same as the other Wilson before she left."

Only the previous head librarian had never called me back into their office before. Ever. There was never a reason to.

I did my work. No one noticed me. No one had to notice me. All I was, was an extra set of hands on the payroll that looked like mere cents compared to what the other actual librarians were making.

My routine remained steady and so did I. I came in every day. I never even took a sick day, even when my cold last season had the rest of the three-person archival staff grimacing every time I sneezed. They each gave me their scratchy box of university-issued tissues and didn't speak with me for a week, which wasn't all that different from our average interaction when I wasn't sick either.

That was also something I was completely fine with.

"Okay. Thank you, Jane." My voice came out more of a whisper.

My heart beat my chest too hard for it to be any louder. With every step, I could barely contain myself.

I still didn't get it.

What could the head librarian possibly want with me?

I knew that the university library was undergoing a lot of renovation. They included more technology, some of which were more confusing than helpful in my opinion. But that was a reference librarian"s responsibility to keep everything in order alongside the many students who used the library for good as well as nefarious reasons.

Oh god, was that it? Was I obsolete? Did that mean that he was going to fire me? Was I no longer important to the running of the library?

It was common knowledge that the university was making cutbacks. I just never thought–

I paused a few steps away from the corner office that felt reclusive to the rest of the library. I swallowed, looking behind me. I could run now. I could pretend I never got the message that he wanted to see me, couldn't I?

"Ms. Jones."

Shit.

My eyes widened. I completely lost my chance. And now I was swearing.

Nothing was going to plan.

"Ms. Jones. Good morning. Come in." Mr. Wolfern filled the space of the doorway as he looked at me. He truly did fill up the entire doorway. Compared to the other librarian, he was massive. Lifted in the complimentary university gym before five in the morning huge.

He waved me inside his office.

Taking a step inside, my legs locked.

Wait a second.

The head librarian's scent itched at my nose. The smell was not quite pleasant, but not unpleasant either. Dried paper and a tinge of cigars didn't seem to adhere to his academically disheveled appearance.

I wasn't concerned about his clothes or the way he pulled his glasses off the bridge of his nose before hanging them on his collar, however. Only one thing was on my mind as I inhaled his thick, potent scent.

Holy shit. It looked like I wasn't done swearing today.

Alpha.