Page 8 of Mating the Omega
“Not going at all. I may have to see if I can market elsewhere. The new projects aren’t anywhere near ready to go public with yet—I need this contract.”
“Don’t let them take advantage of us. They need us as much as we need them.”
“Do they?” Abel smile wryly at him. “I hope so.” He put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Let’s go talk to our wild omega in there.”
“You make him sound like salmon,” Mac complained, and was pleased to see the grin it brought to Abel’s face. His childhood friend was feeling the stress of being Alpha of a large pack and having to deal with the human community surrounding it all the time. Maybe Mac should push the idea of him mating the omega. Abel could use someone to look after him, someone who wouldn’t argue with him.
On second thought, this might not be the right omega for that job. Mac ignored the guilty sense of relief he felt at that thought, uncertain of where the emotion came from. He wasn’t interested in mating.
When they entered the room again, the omega was curled up in the chair, his arms wrapped around his shins and his head resting on his knees. Exhaustion beat from every line of his body, but his eyes were alert when he lifted his head to watch them.
Abel took the chair again, and Mac the wall, though he stayed a step closer to the omega this time. Why, he wasn’t sure.
The omega glanced between the two of them. “So, what are we doing?”
Mac hid a smile at the omega’s phrasing, almost as if the three of them were a team deciding on a course of action. As if he had any say in this.
The corner of Abel’s mouth twitched, but the expression he turned on the omega was stern. “First off, I need your name.”
The omega let go his grip on his legs and slowly uncurled himself. “Why?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
The omega bit his lip and stared at Abel for a moment, then nodded. “Jason.”
Silence.
“What?” Jason asked, though the look on his face said he already knew what Abel was waiting for.
Surprisingly, Abel took the bait. “It’s customary to offer your pack name as well.”
“I told you, I don’t have a pack.”
“You told me you ran away from one. What pack did you run away from?”
The fear-scent grew stronger. “What does it matter?”
“I need to know who to send the transfer request to.”
“You need to know…” Jason’s eyes grew wide. “You’re him. The Alpha.” He leaped to his feet and half-lunged over the table, reaching for Abel. Mac took an instinctive step forward, but aborted it at the Alpha’s gesture.
“Sit down,” Abel said, and the Alpha power rolled out of him, flattening Jason back into his chair. Tears started up in the young man’s eyes and he covered his face in his hands, then looked back up at the Alpha, his expression desperate.
“I have a proposal for you.”
“And what’s that?” Abel leaned back in his chair, arms folded. Mac wanted to slap him. It was obvious the young omega—Jason—was at the end of his rope.
Jason took a deep breath and looked Abel in the eye. “I’m a True Omega. If you don’t mate me, someone will. I can only keep running so long. In exchange for letting you mate me, I want two things.” He stopped, and took another deep breath. “I want a home for my father, and medical care. A permanent home. He got beaten badly by members of a pack hunting me, and he’s still not well. And…” His voice got quiet, and his eyes focused everywhere except on Abel or Mac, flitting around the room like nervous mice. “I don’t care what happens to me, but I want a garden, and time to work in it. Enough time,” he added on a rush, as if he was afraid he’d be interrupted. “Enough time to make it a good garden. Not just a couple of hours a week.”
Abel nodded, as if he was considering the proposal. “Why a garden?”
Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m good with them. Mom said it was the Omega Drive.” He squared his shoulders and looked Abel straight in the eye. “In exchange you get me, whenever you want. Children. I have spring and fall heats—you could have a large family if you wanted. I’ll look after them, you don’t need to worry about having to do any of that, I’ll keep your house, whatever. But those two things—I want a contract. A written one.”
“A written contract.” Abel raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure it would even be legal with an omega.”
“With my dad. He can sign it.” Jason leaned forward, and Mac stifled a gasp at the vibrant intensity in his eyes. “What do you say? There must be some reason why they’re all chasing me. Do you want to let that slip away?”
Abel glanced at Mac, then back at Jason. “You don’t know?”
