Chapter 1
Ravyn
Femalevoicesfilltheback room of the strip club as I work at my station, applying my makeup. Their artificial scents create a potent cloud of perfume in the air. I try my hardest not to gag, but I can't let them get to me. I need to focus.
I’m aiming for a sexy cat-eye look tonight, but water threatens to leak from my eyes, ruining all my hard work.
The strippers at the club are all beta, yet they pretend to be omega to appeal to our clientele. Many of the club patrons are alphas, and alphaslovetheir omegas.
Several girls laugh amongst themselves, and I bite the inside of my cheek, a part of me wishing that I could be over there with them. After all, I am not like the other strippers at this club. My scent isn’t artificial.
That’s because I’m an omega. An omega who is pretending to be a beta who's pretending to be an omega.
It reeks of irony.
No one knows my dirty little secret. Not even my manager or my colleagues. My journey started six years ago at the tender age of sixteen, back when I manifested as an omega. My life has been nothing but hell from day one. I was just a kid. I had no idea of the horrors that awaited me.
Thank God I managed to survive. Thank God I got to see the other side of twenty. Not all omegas are so lucky.
I’m twenty-two years of age now. Aseasonedomega. Except I haven’t had a heat all year. Not since I started taking hormone suppressants.
They’re not cheap, which is why I have to put in the extra work at the club just to get those tips. And I get alotof tips. Sometimes even without trying.
While I may be good at hiding my designation, there’s still no denying my true nature. I’m small with large hazel eyes and shiny, waist-length brown hair, and as a result, I'm not very popular with the other strippers.
They fuckinghateme.
Martina, the leader of the club’s resident mean girls, despises every fiber of my being, and that is why she tries to sabotage me at every turn. Unfortunately forMartini, the manager adores me. Why wouldn’t he? He’s an alpha, and I’m an omega. We go together like bread and butter.
Yet here’s thereal plot twist. Ihatealphas with a capital H and don’t even get me started on their knots!
Absolutely knot. No way. Hell will freeze before I ever take an alpha’s knot.
I already escaped one prison; I will not be condemned to another life of slavery.
That’s all we omegas are to these alphas—a bunch of baby-making machines. Omegas are the only designation that can give them pure-blooded alpha children, so naturally, they gravitate to us.
The other strippers whisper behind my back, and I roll my eyes for the millionth time. It’s like I hopped into a time machine and went back to high school.
Grow. The. Fuck. Up.
“Look at her. She’s sofullof herself...”
That was Emma. A nasally bitch with dishwater blonde hair. She only whispers about me because she feels bad about herself, but Emma’s not wrong. I do think I'm hot.
What's the big deal? There's nothing wrong with a woman loving herself. Why is she so threatened?
I peer behind my shoulder at those three bitches. Martina went a little overboard on the fake tan tonight. She looks like an Oompa Loompa. Then there’s Rachael with her oversized eyelashes. She looks like a giraffe.
I meet Emma’s watery eyes. “What’s wrong, Emma? You worried about that zit on your forehead?”
Emma’s mouth drops to the floor, and I throw my head back and laugh like the Wicked Witch of the West. Did I forget to mention that I’m a complete savage? Well, only to those who piss me off.
You bite me, and I will bite you back twice as hard.
You have to be that way in this miserable life. It’s a cold, cruel world, especially if you’re an omega.
Emma jumps off her stool and peers into a mirror. I lied to her. She didn’t really have a zit; I was just messing with her. The beta grinds her teeth, tossing me an evil look. She glances at Martina.