Page 13 of The Alpha's Fake Mate
I heard a sound like a snort.
“Maybe if you told me why you’re unhappy I could--”
“Stop! Now you’re going to ply me with some promise you can’t keep?” A single laugh escaped the dimness, cutting the air.
“I can’t try to make improvements here if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“You want to know what’s wrong?”
Frowning, I nodded.
A hand moved in the slatted light shining through the awning at the edge of the shadows. It looked like a big moth taking off, then fluttering down for another landing. “What’s wrong is everything, but you can’t see that. And you most certainly can’t fix it.”
“Why not?”
“You’re only one man. And you’re an Alpha so there’s no benefit to you.”
“I don’t understand.” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
“Why would you? It’s been this way for so long you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
“What’s right in front of me?”
“You think this is a safe space for Omegas? A wonderful resort where we get all we need?”
Wasn’t it? I mean, yes, things might be able to be improved, but if I didn’t get suggestions from Omegas, I wouldn’t know what to do about that.
“Is it not safe here? Are you not safe?”
I heard another sort of cackle. Then he said, “No. It’s not. And there’s nothing to be done about it because this is a prison. You own a prison, Mr. Boss. How does that feel? All these Omegas are technically yours. Assets to be paid for, used and abused. There’s a lot of money in that. Can you fix that problem, Mr. Boss? Can you make assurances that no Omega is ever touched by another Alpha except with total consent? Or promise that every Alpha in the Burn is in control?”
This was why I hated what my dad did for his living. This business. It was uncomfortable at best. But my usually cold dad also always used to say, “Where would all these Omegas go if we didn’t house them and care for them? They need this and I provide it.”
I accepted his words, though I didn’t understand them. I’d never understood why young and unbonded Omegas were kept away, for the most part, from society. “To keep them safe” was the Alpha-invented excuse for the existence of the farms and even the private cloisters where I went to slake my fevers.
At the farms, I was taught, Alphas could also meet prospective Omega mates discreetly and safely. If Alphas and Omegas mingled freely in society, said my dad, there would be a lot more crime and the Omegas would suffer the brunt of it.
I didn’t believe it because I didn’t accept that we Alphas were all monsters.
But this boy, whose name I still didn’t know, seemed to have a different perspective. And he was afraid. Somewhere, somehow, he’d met a monster or two, perhaps. Warden Chirl had said he’d suffered trauma.
It seemed impossible to think there would be any monsters here amid the sparkling water, the blue sky and sunshine, and the beautiful forest in the distance. Everything glimmered as if newly washed. The place seemed to be run efficiently. And Alpha customers were screened.
I’d never thought about consent because I’d been taught Omegas readily responded to Alphas in the Burn. There wasn’t supposed to be a problem of them wanting the Alpha in return. In the end, it was only sex when one looked at it from the perspective of biology, of nature. Seemingly not a big deal. That’s what all Alphas were taught.
“Keep telling yourself you help, that you care, that you keep Omegas safe. That our classes in cooking and sewing, homemaking and breeding, hair and makeup are all we need and what’s best. Keep believing it, Mr. Boss-Man, Mr. Orion. You own our world now. You thought it would be easy, didn’t you? You still think it. Go ahead. Take the profits and don’t look any further.”
“But that’s why I’m here.” His speech might have offended other Alphas, but not me. All I heard in his words was resentment and hatred. Maybe he had mental problems. I didn’t know. But I would listen. He didn’t sound irrational.
“No. It’s not why you’re here. You want to make sure you own something clean. Easy. If it’s not to your liking, you can just sell it to another Alpha, wash your hands of it.”
The truth slammed me. Shamed me. He spoke it as if he already knew about the conversation I’d had with Saben about wanting to sell.
I didn’t want to be responsible for these people. I’d never thought about inheriting my dad’s business, at least not until I was much, much older.
But now I was responsible. And I had a decision to make.
I took a step forward. “If we could talk a little more, maybe I could understand better.”
