Omega Revealed
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Gage
Chapter 2 Ryker
Chapter 3 Gage
Chapter 4 Ryker
Chapter 5 Gage
Chapter 6 Ryker
Chapter 7 Gage
Chapter 8 Ryker
Chapter 9 Gage
Omega Revealed
Copyright © 2017 by Tanya Chris (www.tanyachris.com)
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
Cover art by Chay Fox (ChayEbookCovers)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Gage
Chapter 2 Ryker
Chapter 3 Gage
Chapter 4 Ryker
Chapter 5 Gage
Chapter 6 Ryker
Chapter 7 Gage
Chapter 8 Ryker
Chapter 9 Gage
Epilogue: Ryker, One Year Later
Thank You!
Chapter 1 Gage
The receptionist opened an office door and gestured Gage through it, her manner briskly efficient, her smile cheerful. In contrast to the trim, professional suit she wore, her head was completely shaved. Gage couldn’t imagine how much upkeep was involved in keeping her scalp so smooth, given how fast wolf hair grew, but far from coming across as rebellious, her bald head made her look even more orderly—the very image of a perfect beta.
“You can have a seat, Beta Gage. Alpha Ryker will be with you shortly.”
He bit back a correction with a sigh. There was no use. This was why he despised being on pack land—because everyone insisted on using that term to describe him. Humans didn’t treat him like an omega, but they didn’t call him Beta Gage either. To them, he was just a person, but to wolves he was, and always would be, a beta.
Well, he wasn’t in North Leland for validation. He was there for his sister—so she could have a safe and happy future. He could suffer through a few days of misidentification for her sake.
Gage parked himself in a chair to wait for the Immigration Officer as directed. Like most things in Northern Pack territory, the chair was made of roughly-hewn wood. Northern Pack territory had an abundance of forest to harvest from, unlike his own pack’s territory down in the southern desert.
The chair he perched at the edge of sat in front of a desk similarly made. Behind the desk was a larger chair, also of wood but featuring a cushioned seat. Alpha Ryker must be an important guy to command such luxury, and a big guy to require such a large chair.
Gage bit back a sigh. That was another reason he hated being on pack land. Alphas. He loved alphas. He loved, loved, loved alphas. He wanted an alpha all his own, one he could curl up inside of, one who would treat him like the omega he was, make him feel small and protected and wholly sexual. One who would claim him. But he could never have any of that, and so he hated alphas as much as he loved them.
He’d had sex with alphas before, before he’d left his pack of origin, but it was never satisfying because they treated him like a beta, a kind of equal, no matter how much he begged to be taken and owned. He’d had better luck finding humans willing to dominate him than alpha wolves, and that was fine. He should be happy with it. But a human could never claim him the way he yearned to be claimed. A human couldn’t give off the pheromones he longed to have washing over him. A human couldn’t knot him.
The door opened and the scent of alpha hit Gage even before he caught sight of the man coming through the door. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes because obviously the universe fucking hated him.
Alpha Ryker was built like one of the trees that surrounded North Leland—tall, wide, and sturdy. Not round though. More like a rectangle, a rectangular vee of a …. Yeah, there was no point in trying to describe him in geometrical shapes. Alpha Ryker was built like a cake Gage wanted to eat, like a mountain he wanted to climb, like a wall he wanted to be enclosed in, like a dildo he wanted to be impaled by—like if this guy could just fuck him with his entire body, that would be great.
Gage rose and took the offered hand, glad he’d left on his human clothes. Alpha Ryker wore what amounted to a loincloth, which … thank God there was at least one layer of cloth there, because if Gage could actually see the dick he wanted to have stuffed into his every orifice, he might already be on his knees.
He reluctantly let go of the giant’s hand, immediately missing its warmth.
“I’m Alpha Ryker,” the man said. “And you are …” He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand.
“Gage Rio Verde,” he interjected quickly, using the human form of his name in hopes of heading off the honorific he so despised.
“Welcome to North Leland, Beta Gage.”
Useless. Fucking pack protocols.
“Please,” he said, trying to still the instinctive wince, “just Gage.”
You’re here for your sister, he reminded himself, repeating the words like a mantra. It always hurt to be identified as a beta, but to be identified as a beta by this wet dream of an alpha created a sucking vacuum of pain big enough to leave him empty.
“Gage,” Alpha Ryker repeated. He put a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “Call me Ryker.”
A scent accompanied Ryker’s gesture, the pheromone-laced scent of alpha protection meant to calm an agitated omega. It was maybe Gage’s favorite scent in the entire world, but he’d never smelled it directed straight at him like that before. He’d only ever caught wind of it by being in the vicinity of an omega being soothed, the olfactory equivalent of eavesdropping.
To have it blasted right at him—that it was just for him, that Ryker was treating him like an omega … well, it had the desired effect.
Everything was going to be OK. Alpha Ryker would make it all better for him. He could trust Ryker to handle this.
Ryker handled Gage into the wooden chair he’d risen from, patting him down onto it with an extra shoulder press. Then he went around to the other side of the desk and took his own seat.
“Now, tell me what brings you here? You’re interested in immigrating to North Leland?”
“Not me. My sister.” And Gage found himself pouring out Carmen’s story in a jumbled mass, the soothing scent still having its effect on him, telling him that he didn’t need to worry about finding the right words. He just needed to tell Alpha what the problem was and Alpha would fix it.
He explained how his sister had turned up at his apartment a week ago, on the run from their father who was trying to force her into a claiming she didn’t want.
“Our father is very traditional. He thinks omegas should do what they’re told. Carmen doesn’t want to mate with this guy he picked out for her, but my father says once the claiming has gone through she’ll feel different.”
“Most omegas do very well with a claim,” Ryker agreed.
Gage bristled. How most omegas felt was hardly the point if his sister didn’t want to be claimed, but even aside from that, he hated the reminder of what other omegas got that he couldn’t have.
He could mate, even mate with an alpha—many alphas preferred betas because they were stronger contributors to the household and less responsibility—but he could never be claimed. The contentment, the physical sense of belonging to his alpha, the biological imperative of bonding would never be his.
“I’m sorry,” Ryker said. He must have sensed Gage’s distress because another blast of soothing scent washed over Gage like a balm. “Of course if your sister doesn’t want to be claimed, she shouldn’t be forced into a claim. The Northern Pack prides itself on being progressive on omega rights. Our Head Alpha Marta has been working to pass new laws to ensure that what’s happening to your sister doesn’t happen to our omegas.”
“That’s
why I’m here,” Gage agreed. “I was hoping you’d take her in.”
“Absolutely. We have very flexible immigration laws. I’m an immigrant myself. Western Pack.”
That explained Ryker’s coloring. Most of the members of the Northern Pack were pale, with white blond hair that reflected their white fur, and light eyes of blue or green. Ryker was darker even then Gage, both in skin tone and in coloring. His wolf would probably be black based on the dark hair bound in a long braid down his back and the nearly black eyes.
“I’m concerned about extradition,” Gage said.
“We can grant her asylum, which will provide immunity from extradition, not that we ever return omegas to packs who haven’t joined the Omega Rights Coalition. You’re Southern Pack, I assume?”
Gage nodded, not surprised that Ryker could ID him. He was classic Southern Pack with tawny skin and a tumble of russet brown hair that blended with the desert rock, and even after five years in human territory he hadn’t lost his pack accent, a softly sibilant lingering on certain syllables.
Ryker had a Western Pack accent, a rough edge to his speech that made his words sound as strong as he looked. He pulled a sheet of paper from his clipboard and clipped it on top.
“Will you be immigrating as well?”
He shook his head hurriedly. “I don’t want to live here.” He couldn’t wait to get off pack land, to get back to a life that, while it wasn’t satisfying, was at least not hurtful on a daily basis. He was glad Carmen could find a home in North Leland—she preferred to live with wolves—but he’d never be at home with them.
Another wave of soothing scent washed over him.
“Stop doing that,” he snapped. He loved it, but it felt like cheating—that Ryker could just melt him back into contentment with a biological gesture.
“Doing what?” Ryker asked.
“Soothing me—the pheromones. Stop … smelling like comfort.”
Ryker cocked his head and pursed his lips. They were nice lips—full, but firm—and Gage caught a glimpse of fang peeping out from between them.
“I’m not sure I can stop,” he said, “because I’m not doing it on purpose. I’m actually …?”
“Yes! You definitely are. You’re emitting—” Gage waved grumpily. “I’m here about my sister. This isn’t about … sex.”
The word sex seemed to hang between them. He didn’t know where it had come from, because it wasn’t a sex pheromone that Ryker had been putting out, but that changed in a heartbeat. Ryker went silent and still—that anticipatory stillness that predators settled into directly before a pounce. His eyes didn’t flicker from Gage’s as he licked his lips.
And fuck, that was it. He’d been fighting back a boner from the moment Ryker had walked through the door, but the feral expression of hunger on Ryker’s face was the last straw. He went insta-hard. If he could’ve produced slick, he’d be soaking in it.
Ryker’s nostrils flared. He could smell Gage’s arousal, no doubt, and he reacted to it with a flood of the sex pheromones that Gage had just accused him of emitting. Those were sex pheromones—wild and irresistible, taunting in their intensity.
Gage couldn’t even breathe. He belonged to this man, body and soul, would’ve obeyed any command, promised him anything, but Ryker remained in his seat, one hand wrapped hard around a pen, the other clenched into a fist that hovered just above the top of his desk.
“Right,” he said. “About your sister then.”
“My sister. Right.” Gage struggled to recall where they’d left off the conversation. Ryker had asked if he’d be moving to North Leland too and that had upset him and there’d been a chain reaction of scent exchange and that was how they’d ended up here. “Does she have to have a guardian? Would she be safe here without one?”
“No and mostly. She’s definitely not required to have a guardian—equal rights, that’s our goal—but I can’t say everyone who lives here is completely on board with that. There are occasional attempts at forced claiming. It wouldn’t be safe for her to be in public alone while in heat, for instance. I’m sorry, because it should be safe, and we’re working on it, but mostly safe and definitely OK for her to live alone. We do have omega houses if she’d rather—”
“Omega houses!” Gage squawked.
“Oh, sorry. I forget other packs use that term differently. We’re not talking about, um, whore houses. Those are wholly illegal until we get a better grip on the trafficking and abuse issues surrounding them. No, an omega house is a kind of group home for omegas who want independence but feel safer in a more secure environment.”
Gage relaxed back into his chair. An omega house sounded like the perfect place for Carmen.
“So I just need you to fill out one of these immigration forms,” Ryker said as he passed over a sheet of paper, “then Macy can get her processed.”
Macy must be the beta who’d shown him in, Gage figured. He picked up the pen and reflexively put it in his mouth before remembering that it wasn’t respectful to put other people’s pens into your mouth. He looked up to catch Ryker watching him with a disturbingly intense interest.
Um, right. He looked down at the form. Name. Carmen. Caste. That was another reason to hate being on pack land. Human forms didn’t ask that question, so he didn’t have to make a choice between how he felt and how he was perceived. But this form wasn’t about him, and Carmen’s caste was easy. She was an omega, not that she appreciated it. With a suppressed sigh he checked the omega box.
The next few fields were equally easy. Pack: Southern; Town of Birth: Rio Verde. Date of birth. Carmen’s birthday was August 1st and she was three years younger than he was, so …. He counted forward from his own birth year on his fingers and glanced up to catch Ryker watching him.
He flushed. Betas were supposed to be good at math but he … just wasn’t. He’d probably have flunked out if it weren’t for a tutor who’d thought to re-word all his math problems in terms he could care about. If an alpha needs four thousand calories a day to stay fit and a chicken breast contains six hundred calories ….
Pack ID number. Well, Great Moon. He didn’t know Carmen’s ID number; he could never even remember his own. And the next few questions were just as bad. A responsible beta would have brought all Carmen’s info with him, had it at his fingertips for exactly this reason if not had it memorized the way his mother knew his father’s and all her children’s important stats.
“My sister’s going to have to fill out the rest of this,” he told Ryker.
Ryker gave him a confused look and the ugly feeling of failure so familiar from Gage’s childhood bloomed in his stomach and spread like bile up through his throat.
Gage’s alpha father had never taken much notice of him one way or the other. He’d already had two alpha children—Gage’s older sister and brother—by the time Gage had been born. A beta was a disappointment, because it broke his alpha-siring streak and because betas were worthless politically, but by the time Gage had grown old enough to be aware of his father’s feelings, they’d settled into a benign neglect. As long as Gage didn’t embarrass him in front of the neighbors, his father simply ignored him.
Gage’s mother, on the other hand, had been thrilled to have her first beta offspring. She’d expected them to be such friends, to be so compatible. As the many ways in which he failed at being a good beta, and, worse, the extent to which he didn’t even want to be a good beta, became apparent, she was first confused, then disappointed, and ultimately angry. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t interested in the most efficient way to run a household, why he just wanted to make it nice and warm and nurturing and sweet. Nest-like. She ran a business and he wanted to build a home.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized to Ryker, like he’d apologized so many times to his mother. He was trying to do the right thing for Carmen, but he hated it—hated having to front for her. She was far more organized than he was. This was all wrong.
“Is your sister here?”
He
shook his head. “I left her just outside pack land in a hotel. I was afraid …”
“Of course. You were wise to be cautious. Now that you know she’ll be safe here, you can go and collect her and we’ll get her paperwork processed when you get back.”
Ryker beamed, conveying security with a smile. Gage wished Ryker would hit him with another dose of pheromones, which were better even than a smile, but he’d stupidly asked him to stop doing that.
He could really use the pheromones because the prospect of forging his way back through pack land—a journey of multiple days—then chaperoning his sister to North Leland filled him with anxiety. He hated being a protector and he hated being in charge, even logistically. His mother had excelled at that. His father might have been the alpha, but it was his mother who’d organized and arranged every moment of their lives into maximum efficiency. Being efficient made Gage tired.
His anxiety must have been coming off of him because Ryker sniffed the air with that suppressed look alphas got when they were holding themselves back from jumping in to control a situation.
“I’ll go with you,” Ryker blurted out. “I mean, if you’re nervous about escorting your sister yourself, we can send someone with you. Me. I’ll go.”
“Thank you.” Gage felt a little safer and a lot warmer just from the offer. Ryker was such a good alpha, so strong and so sensitive to his … well, not his, but an … omega’s needs. He allowed himself to soak in the safety and warmth for a moment, to imagine himself in the capable protection of a wolf like Ryker, but he couldn’t accept the offer.
“Aren’t you needed here? You can’t just disappear for a week.”
“Honestly, I could. Macy’s the one in charge. I’m just window dressing. I think she’d rather I was out of her way most days. You know how betas are.”
Gage blanched and Ryker’s teasing smile changed to a frown. He leaned forward and a trickle of soothing scent leaked out. Ryker shook his head and his frown deepened into one of concentration as if he were working hard to suppress his natural alpha instincts.