Page 1 of Forbidden Taste
one
LEO
I sling my bag over my shoulder as I step out of the architecture studio, bogged down by the weight of unnecessary textbooks that I haven’t opened in months. It doesn’t help that class was worse than usual—hours of sketching angles and listening to the professor drone on about precision while my classmates shot me sideways glances. Too tall. Too broad. Too… much. Not Omega-like enough. They think I don’t notice, but I do. Ialwaysdo.
Curse of a six-foot Omega trying to make it through Aureum Academy. Going unnoticed is hardly an option. Finding a mate? Nearly impossible. Staying out of everyone’s way just so I can get this fucking degree and help my fathers with their business? Unlikely.
My soft features don’t seem to help, bright orange hair and freckles splayed across my cheeks, green eyes the color of sea foam boldening the shades. They used to be amber, the same color as myBeta father’s, changing over time and revealing the flecks of green until it took over and became a lighter shade of my twin, Elias’ forest green ones.
Someone snickers off to my left, pointing, their hand covering their mouth like I don’t know what’s going on. I’m well aware that everything about me is wrong. My size. My scent. The lack of any Omega-like traits that would put me into that adorable category.
“Mr. Woods, I would have expected more out of you,” Professor Vix teases as she stops beside me. She leans forward, peering at the sketch clutched in my hands before running a finger down my sketch, smudging some of the ink. Any self-respecting Omega would immediately apologize, try to fix the problem, maybe even grovel a little bit.
My first reaction? Having to bite back a snarl as I fist my hands around the canvas. She doesn’t seem to catch onto my turmoil before moving on to speak with another student, wishing us all a good afternoon.
I can’t fucking get out of there fast enough, side eyeing our professor with the thought of addressing her behavior but think better of it. I might be a head or two taller than the Alpha but she ranks above me both in status and designation.
“Deep breaths, Mr. Giant,” Eugene muses as he catches up to me halfway down the hall. He’s the only one allowed to call me that, the only one I can stomach in this godforsaken academy. Eugene hasn’t made fun of my designation but he also doesn’t see me as an Omega. I’ll take what I can get. “She smudged your picture. You’ll get over it. Let’s go grab some lunch.”
Eugene doesn’t get it though. It wasn’t just that she smudged the picture. It’s more than that and I can’t fucking figure out why I can’t let it go. It’s been happening more recently, little things pissingme off, twisting my mind until the only emotion I can hold onto is anger. But an Omega raging at anyone would be a call for expulsion and a host of other legal issues I’m not going to subject myself to.
“I’m good,” I mutter, still glaring at my picture, hating the small erasure in the shape of her thumb. Bringing it closer to me, the faint scent of berries filling my nose, I realize I don’t want this. I was so proud of it 15 minutes ago—I had designed my own little house, complete with hideaways and a bed that spanned the entirety of a room. It wasperfect.
And now it feels tainted.
I shove it at Eugene’s chest. “Have at it. I’ll see you later.”
He starts to grumble before yelling ‘thanks’ as I turn the corner, making my way to the only place that seems to calm me down. Each wing of this academy holds a different art of some kind—dance, architecture, music and the students tend to only mingle in the cafeteria and during events. However, as good as I am with my hands, my love is in the quiet melodies that sift through my lips and the warmth that comes from hearing instruments play.
Especially when it’shim.
Riley Hart.
The farther down the music wing I get, the stronger his scent is—roses and honey—something almost suffocating which means he’s lost in his craft. A shiver runs down my spine as heat blooms in the pit of my stomach. This always happens when I stand just outside his practice room, the absolute desire to have a man I’ve never spoken to and yet know in my heart is mine.
But two Omegas can’t be together. Everyone knows that.
And especially not someone like me with someone like him.
But I can’t fathom wanting anyone else. No Alpha. No Beta. Just him.
The music reaches me before I see him. Soft piano notes drifting down the hall, a mixture of angelic and haunting devotion. Long glass windows stretch from floor to ceiling, framing the space like a stage. A sleek black baby grand sits in the middle, and Riley’s there, perched on the bench. His light brown hair brushes his shoulders, catching the dim light as his fingers glide over the keys with a grace that makes my heart ache. He’s engrossed, playing like it’s a lifeline keeping him tethered to the world.
The way he plays is mesmerizing, exhilarating and it only makes me want him all that much more. I stop a few feet from the glass, my breath fogging faintly against it as I let his melody flow through me, a lover’s song, a longing, and a promise all wrapped up in one.
He’s adorable. Perfect in every way. That bright smile of his could light up the entire campus—I’ve seen it before, flashing across his face in the halls or when he’s laughing with one of his friends. But it’s not present right now. No, only raw emotion is there, his head tipping back, tears glistening on his cheeks. They shimmer like tiny stars, streaking down his skin as if the music is pulling them out of him. Is he moved by it? Hurting? I don’t know. I want to. My hand lifts, pressing palm-flat against the glass.
A sigh leaves my lips as I imagine finally stepping inside and wrapping myself around him, holding him against my chest, and drenching him in my scent, claiming him in a way no Omega should. Those full lips pressed against mine, the sweetest taste on my tongue like I know it would be as I run my fingers through those soft strands…
But my shortcomings are keeping me from ever speaking with Riley. We’re from two wildly different worlds. He’s the golden Omega. Untouchable. Famous. His parents paid for half this wing, and his music fills the air like a gift. I come from a modest familythat helped me hone my gift until it became perfection but I have nothing to offer.
Shame washes over me as I start to think of everything that could go wrong if I were to follow my head rather than my heart. Aside from all the bullshit I’d have to hear, the only thing truly stopping me from crossing this barrier is myself.
Because I’ve been told for so fucking long that I need to submit. Alphas have tried to tame me. They’ve pinned me down, hands rough on my neck, growling in my ear to submit. It never works. I fight back every time because it feels wrong to bend for them. My body doesn’t know how to give in. But I’m still classified as an Omega. That’s what the world says. Sometimes I just… don’t feel it, though. I’ve never had a heat. Twenty-four years old and not a single wave of slick or burning need. Just this body that doesn’t match the rules.
And the knot. My shameful secret. It started forming a few years ago—small at first, then growing until it’s this obscene ring around the base of my cock. My doctor couldn’t explain why it was there but confirmed that I was still a damn Omega. That I would present as soon as I gave into my instincts rather than fight them.
But that’s part of the fucking problem. Sometimes I want to disappear and curl up in a dark room and other times, I want to fight my teacher for smudging my hard work.
