Page 14 of The Alpha's Fake Mate
“I said no closer!”
The shadow moved, dark on dark smoothly rising, a swath of white shirt and brilliant hair, the gleam of an eye catching the daylight rays for a moment, like an animal caught in headlights, only angry and caged.
He’d stood out in the front room, the most beautiful of them all with his darker veneer of disgust against the lineup of all the properly trained Omegas primped and preened to perfection to meet the Alpha tour group I’d brought with me.
Wild, hair in his eyes, this one sent my blood rushing.
“Best to stay away!” he yelled.
I heard a door snick open.
“Sell this place and don’t think. Don’t look back. You’re one of the lucky. Born Alpha. Why would you even want to come here unless you were suffering the Burn? Or you wanted to make a claim?”
“I disagree. I really am interested in improving your lives here. Please, don’t leave yet. I would like to talk more.”
But I heard his footsteps click up a step. Saw the edge of his belt and the cuff of one sleeve in the darkness as he finally vanished, the door slamming closed behind him.
A blue jay flew up to the rooftop above where he’d been sitting. It let out a squawk and eyed me suspiciously.
I heard voices, then, and turned to see the group I’d come with appear around the bend of the complex.
“Ah,” said Chirl. “I see you’ve found the pool.”
“I have.”
“Would you like a tour of the Children’s Wing next?” he asked.
“That would be fine.”
But I couldn’t quite focus. The next hour was a blur.
Later, as we left, I handed the stacks of questionnaires to Chirl.
“I’ll make sure these are handed out,” he said.
“And one more question. Who was that Omega who spoke out in the front room when we first arrived?”
“What, sir?” he asked, his smile gone, his lips thinning.
“The one you told me had suffered a trauma. I simply wanted to know his name. Even the critiques of those who don’t quite fit in here are valuable. I want to make sure I receive his questionnaire personally.”
“His name is Holland, sir.”
Holland.A beautiful name.
“He’s not quite well, though. But he’s being seen to and well cared for, I assure you. His answers may not be anything you want to hear.”
“If I heard only what I wanted to hear, the place would already be perfect.”
“I just meant, sir, that he might not make a lot of sense.”
“Well, that will be for me to decide, right?” I didn’t say anything about our little talk by the pool. How his words not only made some sense, but intrigued me.
Warden Chirl nodded, but a darkness had come over his eyes. I didn’t like to see that the same as I didn’t like to hear about prisons and selling Omegas and non-consent.
It had all fallen to me quicker than I could comprehend. Responsibility. Such a big word. But it crept over me and weighed on my shoulders.
Saben would be happy to hear I hadn’t decided to sell Zilly’s. Yet.
