Page 55 of Drown My Sorrow

They might be my alphas, but I’ve discovered an interesting revelation tonight.

They are my alphas. They are my scent matches. But I do not have to like them.

Chapter thirteen

Kelly

KellyAged24

There has been something growing inside of me. Some filthy feeling like a moving eel pushing back at me. I sit in the chair, but I say nothing as the new beta signs on with Alpha Labels. That’s not the part that bothers me. No, it’s the part where his hand is stroking casually over her ass, and the fact she’s a hair this side of legal.

I keep the bored expression and make a mental note to talk to my dad. He will know what to do.

Typhor has increasingly been showing the cracks of his facade, revealing the poison underneath. I’m not strong enough to take the mantle from him yet, but someone needs to do something. This is our legacy, our name, and he’s trashing it.

The beta says something coy and takes her leave. I climb to my feet and wait for my uncle.

“Let’s go get something to eat. That dumb bitch is going to help me work it off later tonight. I’ll get what I want out of her, get my cock sucked, and then fuck her off. She’s not talented enough to make it big.”

I pause, confused. “Why sign her, then?”

“Because I love watching the moment I crush their dreams.”

I hate him.

We walk down the stairs, and I listen with half an ear as he brags about his conquests. When I was younger, they seemed much more impressive, but I’m twenty-four, and it’s like the veil that was making him appear human, decent, an actual humane leader, has been ripped away.

I’m going to talk to dad about breaking ties with him. I don’t want any part of this life. It’s just not for me.

He puts his hand on my shoulder as I open the door to the café I’ve never been to before in my life.

I look over the customers, a glancing look, and do a double take.

NO! NO!

NO! Why is the world this cruel?

My omega is sitting at a table all on her own, looking broken and miserable. Tiny, wounded, needing me.

And young. Far, far too young.

The shock and horror slams into me like storm waves slamming onto the shore.

Mine, but I can’t have her.

Her perfume erupts into the air. I don’t know the scent, but it’s sweet and intoxicating, and I suck it into my lungs and want to die in this scent.

She’s perfumed for me.

Too young!

All of a sudden, I remember the threat. All my senses go on alert, and I fix my bored expression back. Hating myself so very much for what’s going to happen.

“I think you found your omega,” Typhor says with a bark of laughter. My uncle, who is married into my family, positively preens with delight over the discovery. His brown eyes shine with predatory hunger, and his smile stretches across his face.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never take a less than perfect omega for a mate.”

Please forgive me. She’s all golden hair and golden eyes. Big pouty lips and this exotically angled face. Why is she so broken? What has life done to her? I have to protect her. She’s only a teenager. Only a girl. A child. Typhor will chew her up and spit her out.

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