“What’s your name again?” A kid at least eight or ten years younger than me is leading me into a large game room.

“Uh, Max,” I say quietly, hoping he doesn't want to get into some long conversation. I’m really not the chatty type.

“Nice to meet you, Max.” The kid stops walking and sticks his hand out, waiting for me to take it. “I'm Trevor.”

I grimace on the inside but hope he can’t see any outward signs of revulsion. I try not to touch people if I can avoid it. There are just too many risks involved with physical contact. A simple handshake can lead to a rape or beating if the wind shifts just right. But since this kid seems insistent on being friendly, I quickly offer a weak shake, almost embarrassed by my wet noodle grip.

As much as I don't like to substantiate common omega stereotypes, I am what I am. Weak, worthless, omega. Growing up on the streets taught me early that my life has no value beyond what a beta or an alpha assigns it.

And in all my nineteen years, no one has assigned me any value beyond dirt under their shoe. The only person who ever did anything remotely kind for me was Tad. He took care of me when no one else cared to. And he protected me in a way I can never repay him for.

I still wonder if he was grooming me to join the ranks of breeders at some point. I guess I’ll never know what his true intentions were. Maybe he’s just a nice guy who felt guilty for all the horrible things he did to the other omegas in that dump. Or maybe he saw some kind of potential in me that no one else ever has. Either way, I’ll never see him again. He was arrested with the rest of the employees at the stable while I got in line with the omegas being transported out.

I had no idea where were they were taking everyone, but they didn’t ask questions either as they handed out blankets and sandwiches before loading everyone into busses. Maybe it was dumb luck that got me here, and maybe my brain will kick back on any minute now and I’ll realize how stupid I was to allow myself this rescue, but it doesn’t seem too bad.

Being alone from such an early age was tough. I barely survived by myself. I was hungry and sick for most of my childhood. If I had been willing to sell my ass, things might have been a little bit better for me.

But I wasn’t.

Not back then and definitely not now.

Now I know I can survive. I don’t need food or water to prove my strength. Been there, done that. Now I just need to trust my instincts when they tell me what to do. They don’t always make sense, but they always keep me safe in the end. It was my instincts that told me to get on that bus yesterday. And it’ll be my instincts that convince me to stay or go.

So far, things here are pretty good. The few alphas I’ve met are sensitive to what we’ve been through and careful to keep their distance. No one has been overbearing or dominating.

Which is why I’m still here.

I can go days without eating, but I refuse to kneel for some asshole who thinks he can own me because he was born with different genes. Just luck of the fucking draw that I was born to a junkie omega who didn’t know how to keep his hole closed.

I guess the lure of his next high was more important than taking care of his kid, so I took care of him until he died when I was seven years old. After that, I only had to take care of myself. And that meant avoiding alphas at all costs. Kids, like this one, I can handle.

“Nice to meet you, Trevor.” I take a look around the room. It’s a nice setup they have here. “You live here too?”

“Yeah, I live here for now.” He gestures to a large sofa before hopping onto it.

I shake my head, preferring to stand until I have a better handle on whether or not I'm gonna stick around this place. “What does that mean?”

My eyes dart from one face to the next, assessing each person in the room to make sure none are a threat. Most are emaciated and weak omegas, and all are just as bad or worse off than I am.

“Can you keep a secret?” Trevor asks, leaning forward so he can whisper closer to my ear.

He finally gets my attention, and I tilt my head toward him and shrug. “I guess so.”

“I'm going to get adopted soon.”

“You are? By who?”

He twists an imaginary key in front of his lips and tosses it over his shoulder. “I can't say who, but he's an alpha and he works here and he wants to be my dad.”

I stare down at the kid and hope like hell whoever's feeding him these stories isn't just fucking with his head. All kids deserve to have someone out there who wants to be their dad and who will take care of them in a way no dad I've ever met would. “I hope so, kid.”

He picks up a game controller and holds it out to me. “Do you want to play?”

I look from it to the TV screen and shake my head. “Naw, I'm not any good at that kind of stuff. Never played much when I was your age.”

Trevor cocks his head as if he doesn't understand the relevance of age. “You can play when you’re old too. I'll teach you.”

I'm just about to give in when my whole body goes on high alert. Something is wrong. I don’t understand the sensations warring within my body, but I instantly know they’re related to a big guy with four small kids who stumbles into the room. Two toddlers are in his arms and two are running wild at his feet.

A strange pull to the door makes me wonder if I should run for it. My body is trying to tell me something that my mind doesn’t understand. The man’s scent is muddled by the odors coming off the kids, but there's something there. Something underneath the other scents that has my body tensed. He doesn't look threatening, but even without a second glance, I can tell this man is an alpha. My body knew it before he even fully entered the room. He doesn’t smell like any alpha I’ve ever met, but he’s also swimming in diaper and sour milk odors.

If my body knows something I don't, I should pay attention. My instincts are generally good, so now is not the time for me to ignore them. But even as I try to step back, my feet just won't move in the direction I want them to.

Trevor is talking and tugging me closer to this man, and I don't know what to do.

“Come on, guys. It's nap time.” This dude is clearly out of his element. One kid is sliding down his hip and manages to wiggle free of his grip. As soon as the escape artist’s feet hit the ground, he takes off like a bullet. The guy looks stunned that he lost one. “Adrian, get over here! I'm not going to say it again.”

The kid still in his arm starts wailing and flings his body backward like he's trying to do a backflip out of the guy’s grasp. He almost succeeds before the guy adjusts his grip and wraps both arms around the acrobat he's trying to wrangle.

His strength and vulnerability are at odds with each other as I stare in confusion. What is with this guy? Why can’t I look away?

Despite the lack of olfactory confirmation I’m used to, his broad shoulders and six foot something frame make it more than obvious he was plucked from the perfection gene pool.

He’s unlike any alpha I’ve seen before

And I’m not sure if I should be terrified or excited by that.