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This one was close. Erik willed himself to have the appropriate reaction to the pungent scent on his fingers, trying to fake a possessive growl over the shivering, huddled form beneath him. Shaw the keeper watched him with a shrewd, experienced eye, however. “No, not quite,” he judged. “Don’t give up hope, there’s more to see.”
He moved towards the door decisively, and Erik unwound himself from the naked Omega carefully, trying not to startle him. Running an operation like this one, Shaw was naturally suspicious of new buyers in case they were inspectors or enlightenists, and Erik didn’t want to get himself beaten up and tossed out. He took the wetwipe Shaw offered and cleaned his fingers fastidiously as they left the small concrete room and the heavy door clanged back into place.
“Almost right,” Erik told him.
“I’ve got someone similar, maybe he’ll do,” Shaw suggested, with a smarmy yet dangerous smile. “You’re sure you want a male? I’ve got some really lovely girls—”
“In the mood for a boy today,” Erik shrugged, casual but firm. As much as he wanted to open every cell and take all the Omegas home, rescue them from this horrible place, he knew that being too open-minded could give him away. Better to be shopping for something specific.
“What kind of business did you say you were in, Mr. Lehnsherr?” Shaw asked idly as they walked down the dim hallway.
“I didn’t.”
Shaw laughed pleasantly at his answer. “A man who keeps his secrets, very smart,” he flattered. “But surely you can get Omegas closer to home. Wherever that is.”
“My usual suppliers bored me,” Erik replied flatly. Shaw got the message that boring was unwise. “So I’m looking farther afield. I hope the trip is worth my while.”
“So do I!” Shaw responded cheerfully, with a kind of fake chumminess that made Erik’s skin crawl. It wasn’t ingratiating; more like Shaw was merely humoring him. The friendliness of a predator before the kill. Not for the first time Erik wished Logan was here to have his back, but Shaw was firm, one Alpha at a time only.
“Now this one might work for you,” Shaw suggested, opening another door. The concrete cells were tiny and bare, just a showerhead in the corner and a drain in the middle of the floor. The heat-crazed Omegas probably appreciated the chilliness, at least. This one was curled up in the far corner, hardly recognizable as human. “Charles is a good boy, but a little skittish,” Shaw assessed. “Charles! Come over and say hello.”
The Omega ‘coming over’ was merely a figure of speech; the poor creature wasn’t moving from his spot unless beaten. And many of the Omegas had been beaten, though Erik didn’t yet see any bruises on this one’s pale skin. He crouched down a few inches away from the Omega, trying to make himself smaller, less intimidating. “Hey there,” Erik said in a soft voice. “Can you look up? Come on.”
Shaw gave him a curious look for this continued behavior, but Erik would not be rough with the Omegas, even to be more convincing as a buyer; just because he went through Omegas quickly, or owned many of them, didn’t mean he mistreated them. He just got bored easily, and liked to share Omegas he’d finished with his pack. That was the persona Erik was projecting to Shaw anyway. Someone with more money than taste, but not someone cruel.
The conditions the Omegas were kept in, the cell should have smelled awful, but the scent of heat overwhelmed everything else—Erik could easily have taken home any Omegas he’d seen today and enjoyed having sex with them, but Shaw, like any good keeper, wasn’t looking for mere enjoyment. He was looking for the wow factor, the heroin high, the lightning bolt. That was why they’d agreed on a price before Erik even entered the hallway with the cells—because once he found the right Omega, he would pay anything to take them home, and it would be unethical for Shaw to take advantage of that. Because clearly Shaw was concerned about ethics. Or rather, he was concerned about what he could get sued for, which was price gouging, and not about what was difficult or unpopular to prove, like mistreatment of the Omegas.
The Omega before Erik trembled, head buried in his arms, sweat glistening on his skin. Erik reached out to touch his hand, which was feverishly hot, and stroked his fingers gently. “Hey, can you look at me?” he repeated. Shaw’s body language nearby was impatient, but this was Erik’s time; he was paying for a custom appointment, as long as it took. “Your name is Charles? Can you look at me, Charles?”
Slowly the Omega’s head moved, his brown hair matted and unruly, and then two brilliant blue eyes peeped over his arm, pinning Erik in place. Those eyes were dazzling, lively and intense; Erik felt he could drown in them. Beside him Shaw had stilled with interest.
Charles lifted his head a little more, and Erik saw he had a light dusting of freckles across his face, and his lips were impossibly red; he kept gnawing on the bottom one nervously, until Erik slipped his hand in under the Omega’s chin and eased his lip away from his teeth. “Stop that, you’ll hurt yourself,” Erik instructed.
“Alpha?” Charles asked tentatively, and something constricted in Erik’s chest. He was taking this one home with him, he didn’t care what Shaw had to say about it.
“Why don’t you—” Shaw started to suggest, reaching in, and Charles squealed and squirmed away, and Erik snarled, moving to block. “Whoa, okay!” Shaw held his hands up in a placating gesture, smirking insufferably. “Looks like you found your next little playmate! But you might as well check him, to be sure. So you’ll know his scent,” he added, a sentiment that penetrated Erik’s increasingly focused mind. It was important to know his Omega’s scent, in case he had to track him.
Erik turned back to Charles, who had moved more into the corner, uncurled now as if readying to run. He was younger than Erik had expected—often the ‘trained’ Omegas, as they were euphemistically called, were bred a couple of times before being sold, to contribute to the next generation of captives. But Erik could imagine this was Charles’s first heat, which meant he would be a virgin, which meant no one but Erik would ever touch him.
Some remaining rational part of Erik’s brain told him that whole sequence was very unlikely to be accurate; and actually it didn’t matter, because Erik was taking him home regardless of his history. But the thought that Erik might be the first (and only?) sent a surge straight to the primal Alpha center of his lizard brain.
Erik crept closer across the cold concrete floor, eyes on Charles’s like a cobra mesmerizing his prey, forcing the Omega more and more into the corner. When he was close enough he pressed a hand between Charles’s legs, struggling a little to spread them against his resistance. His whines were pitched to make Erik want to stop, gather him close, take him someplace safe; but this was part of safety, knowing his scent, and Erik leaned over him to put a heavy hand on the back of Charles’s neck. He didn’t squeeze to scruff him but the threat was there—he needed his Omega to calm down and stay still.
Charles made another high noise of protest, or alarm, and bit his lower lip again nervously. “Charles, I told you to stop that,” Erik reminded him, patient but firm, and Charles immediately released the chapped lip. Despite not having been outright beaten, it seemed, Charles’s slim body bore the marks of neglect—careless cuts and bruises untreated, lips cracked, dearly in need of a few more meals and a good scrubbing. Which was exactly the kind of care Erik and his pack intended to provide.
Maybe not first, though. “Hold still, I won’t hurt you,” Erik promised and he pushed his hand between Charles’s legs again, past his knees that he’d drawn up to his chin, following the smooth, hot skin of his thighs downwards. Charles whimpered in the back of his throat and with the thumb resting there, Erik stroked the skin of his neck reassuringly. His other fingers didn’t need to penetrate, there was plenty of slick on the boy’s upper thighs to rub through; some people did anyway, claiming the scent was purer at the source, but it was probably just an excuse to molest the Omegas. Erik’s hand clenched involuntarily at the thought of anyone doing this to Charles and the boy whined.
“Sorry, sorry,” Erik told him, pulling both hands away, though the one switched from Charles’s neck to his knee so as not to lose contact with him. “You’re being very good.” Charles gave a tentative grimace, too anxious to be called a smile.
“I told you he was a good boy, didn’t I?” Shaw interjected intrusively. He could see Erik was hooked and didn’t mind annoying him a bit now. “Charles has been my star pupil, I knew once he popped he’d go fast.”
Charles’s eyes slid to Shaw, then back to Erik, and he curled into himself again. “Alpha,” he murmured, possibly telling Erik to hurry up and get him out of here.
Erik was happy to oblige and lifted his moist fingers to his nose. Normally this was the most important part of the compatibility test, but Erik already knew he was taking Charles with him, so—
The scent hit him, crisp and clean and a little tart at first, like fresh apples, shading into something warm and exotic and spicy, a richness that completely filled his senses until it was all he wanted to breathe, forever. Without thinking he slipped the fingers in his mouth, Charles’s blue eyes huge and watching him with a mixture of alarm and fascination, his pale skin starting to flush.
“Looks like he likes you, too,” Shaw observed obnoxiously, peeking into Charles’s lap to see the arousal he was concealing.
Erik was not amused. “I’ll take him,” he said brusquely. “Get him some clothes.” Shaw may have had daily knowledge of Charles up to this point—or not, it was hard to tell how involved the display keepers were—but he belonged to Erik now, and no one was going to go near him without Erik’s permission. Which Shaw definitely didn’t have.
“As you like,” Shaw shrugged, whipping out a tablet. “Charles, number 1619. All records are being send to the email address you specified. Sign here.”
Erik snatched the tablet and scrawled his signature across the screen, then handed it roughly back to Shaw, his eyes never leaving Charles. This part would not seem natural to the Omega in his current mindset, and indeed he had tucked himself into the corner as tightly as he could, eyes flickering between the two of them warily. Someone else dared to enter the room and Erik’s head whipped around, but it was only a Beta female, of the caretaker variety, holding a bundle of fabric.
“Can she approach?” Shaw asked facetiously, exaggerating his respect for Erik’s dominance, and Erik stood suddenly, throwing the keeper off for a satisfying second. At least the man could no longer doubt Erik’s motivations.
“Get him dressed,” he growled at the Beta.
Charles relaxed as she came nearer, perhaps recognizing her, and she gathered up one piece of clothing and pushed the hole over his head, draping him in the dark robe. Charles seemed comfortable with it and even tried to burrow his head back down, so he would be shrouded in darkness in his own personal cocoon. The Beta tsked him, though, and made him worm his arms out through the bulky sleeves, then encouraged him to stand up. The garment was roomy but not exactly flattering, and Charles kept playing with it until the Beta swathed him in a blanket as well.
At this he whined. “Hot!”
“Come on, Charles,” Erik commanded, holding out his hand. The Omega hesitated, but then hurried to his side, skirting Shaw. Erik turned to lead him from the cell.
“Nice doing business with you, Mr. Lehnsherr,” Shaw called after him. “Engineering, isn’t it?”
Erik froze in the hallway and turned slowly, Charles scampering around behind him. “What of it?” he asked tightly.
Shaw waved the tablet as if to indicate Erik had been Googled. “An uncommon name. Lehnsherr Enterprises. One of the top engineering firms in New York.”
Erik had nothing to hide; if he had, he would’ve used an alias. He kept his public and private activities strictly separate. He grinned, showing too many teeth. “Wishing you’d charged me more?” he asked.
Shaw also grinned, equally humorless. “Just hoping you have enough time for Charles, with your busy corporate lifestyle,” he claimed. “He really thrives with frequent attention.”
It was a cheap and dirty shot, designed to rile the Alpha in Erik with the implication of Charles receiving attention from other people, and Erik growled low in his throat. Shaw made a dismissive gesture. “I can see you’ll make the time,” he judged. “Have a nice day.”
One final test, then, Erik’s dwindling rational brain decided, as he spun around and strode down the hall towards the exit, forcing Charles to trot to keep up. Someone like Shaw got off on exercising his power over others, not just heat-addled Omegas trained for submission since birth, but also the Alphas he ensnared with them. As long as he let Erik out of here with his prize, Erik didn’t care about his power games or mockery. He realized he was sucking on his fingers again, his tongue trying to scrape every last bit of the fading scent off. He almost panicked at the thought of it vanishing from his world entirely.
“Alpha!” Charles complained from behind him—his legs were shorter, and whatever exertions he would soon be performing, he’d been cooped up in a small space for a while, not running marathons.
The exit seemed impossibly far; Erik wanted to run for it, dragging Charles behind like wolves were at their heels. But he forced himself to slow, stop—then scoop Charles up and keep striding briskly. The Omega weighed hardly anything, it seemed, though that could merely be the hormones flooding Erik’s system. Charles buried his nose in Erik’s neck, sniffing avidly.
“My Alpha?” Charles asked tentatively, before committing the scene to memory.
“Yes, your Alpha,” Erik assured him, deliberately relaxing his clenched fingers so as not to leave bruises on the boy.
Charles nuzzled him then, the eager scent wafting off him making Erik light-headed. “Alpha, Alpha,” he murmured in Erik’s ear enticingly. “We must mate.”
He didn’t know what he was saying, that was the point—Erik had been through a dozen situations like this before, guiding an oppressed and abused Omega to safety, the combination of heat and training making them single-minded and instinctual. He’d never had a reaction like this before, though—usually he was angry, and nauseous, and compassionate of course, and yes, attracted, nothing to feel guilty about there, that was just biology. Someone had to have sex with the Omega at this point, it was cruel and confusing to them otherwise, and the only way to win their trust, make them feel safe and actually listen to the deprogramming.
But right now Erik could barely remember that was his goal. All he could think was need-want-mine-forever, and the intensity of it scared him a little, made him worry he would do something stupid, like drop Charles to the floor and start shagging him right on that filthy blanket—
“Not here,” Erik snapped through tightly-gritted teeth.
“No,” agreed Charles unexpectedly. “Here is danger. Will you protect me, Alpha?”
Erik turned his head to look into those crystal blue eyes, so innocent yet with a certain primal intelligence—this Omega was a survivor. “Yes, I’ll protect you,” Erik promised. “I’ll always protect you.” Charles cuddled up against him, submissive like an Omega ‘should’ be, but Erik had the distinct impression he was also watching Erik’s back.
Finally they reached the door that sealed the hallway from the front entrance; the receptionist nodded at them through the window and buzzed the door open. An Alpha-Beta pair was waiting to enter, talking to one of Shaw’s associates about the desired traits of their Omega, and they stared after Erik as he passed with Charles in his arms.
“Alpha,” Charles warned in a murmur, as the other Alpha’s nose flared.
“I know. Quiet.” The Beta put a warning hand on his companion and the salesman made a quip about the merchandise going fast; Erik had been wondering why there wasn’t a more private exit, but now he realized he was once again just part of Shaw’s promotional campaign—like what you see? This could be you!
An attendant held open the front doors for him, quite used to Omegas being carried out, and Logan looked up from where he leaned against the van reading a magazine. “Open the door,” Erik told him unnecessarily. “Start the car.” Logan raised an eyebrow but slid open the door.
“Alpha!” Charles warned again, staring at Logan. His fingernails dug into Erik’s shoulders when Erik tried to put him in the van.
“My Second,” Erik dismissed. “Let’s go,” he prompted Logan, who finally went around to the driver’s side.
“Oh. Okay,” Charles agreed. He let Erik release him on the seat, still clinging with one hand as Erik climbed in and shut the door.
“Any problems?” Logan asked evenly, starting the engine.
Erik knew what he meant. “No. Just—Shaw is an evil b-----d and we need to go.”
Logan was already headed down the circle drive, away from the elegant glass and steel building with its tasteful landscaping. “Sure thing,” he confirmed, perfectly aware there was some kind of problem.
“Second Alpha—pack,” Charles identified.
“That’s right, kid,” Logan confirmed. “What’s your name?”
“Pack will protect Omega,” Charles responded instead, pitching this at Erik.
“Yes, they will,” Erik assured him. “His name is Charles.”
“Hi, Charles,” Logan persisted, though you couldn’t expect much in the way of conversational skills right now. “You wanna text Moira—”
“Alpha, we must mate,” Charles insisted, punctuating this by swinging himself onto Erik’s lap. Given that he wasn’t wearing pants, this put quite a lot of hot, moist skin in direct contact with Erik’s jeans, now feeling rather too small.
“No, Charles, not yet—” Erik tried to tell him, with difficulty. He grasped the Omega’s hips, trying to keep him still.
“Pack will keep us safe,” Charles asserted, and dove for Erik’s lips.
It was a sloppy kiss, more enthusiasm than technique, which Erik was glad of because it meant Charles hadn’t kissed many other people, maybe none. He felt the possessiveness surge through him again, burying his fingers in Charles’s hair to position him how Erik wanted, mouth slanting to a better angle as his tongue plundered the boy’s mouth.
“—on our way back,” Erik vaguely heard Logan saying from the front. “No, he seems fine,” he added dryly, glancing at his passengers in the rearview mirror. Erik tipped Charles over onto the seat, grinding down in a way that drew deep groans from the Omega. “Did you hear that?” Logan asked in irritation. “Yeah, they’re—Erik! Hey, not in the car, alright? J---s.”
Erik struggled up for fresh air, the tart and spicy scent tainting everything and making his brain foggy. Charles’s expression beneath him was all blissful anticipation, pupils wide and lips swollen and red, but Erik yanked himself back, pulling the robe down to cover the boy and trying to force his feelings away from sex to caregiving. “Stop biting your lip,” he told Charles, transferring his irritation.
Charles propped himself up on his elbows. “Alpha, we must mate!” he repeated. There was a hint of patronizing in his tone, like he feared he’d been saddled with an Alpha too stupid to understand this.
“It’s Erik,” Erik corrected. “Say it back.”
“Erik,” Charles parroted readily, then added unexpectedly, “Mr. Lehnsherr.”
Erik gave a half smile. “That’s right,” he agreed. “You can call me Erik. Sit up.” Charles scrambled up on his knees, clearly intent on straddling Erik again, and Erik had to restrain him, gripping Charles’s arms and forcing him back down. “You have to sit,” Erik told him. “It’s not safe yet.”
Charles froze, then twisted from Erik’s grip to squeeze down on the floor between the seats. “Is he moving around?” Logan demanded. He didn’t need that distraction while driving through unfamiliar countryside—a sign suggested there might be cows leaping out at him soon or something.
“No, he’s behind your seat,” Erik described, trying to get down as well. “Charles, it’s okay—”
“There is danger,” Charles murmured. He made himself very small. “Pack will protect Omega. There is danger. Pack will protect—”
“Charles. Charles!” Erik gripped his ankle, bare skin that seemed safe. “The pack will protect you, yes. But don’t be scared, you’re not in danger.” Omegas who faced too much stress or fear could drop out of heat entirely, an evolutionary short circuit that made them more lucid and able to escape danger in the short term, but it could have long-term psychological effects that evolution obviously didn’t care about. To say nothing of the difficulties it gave them feeling safe and secure within the pack. Erik had found that trained Omegas, ironically, were less prone to that than freeborn ones, perhaps because stress and fear seemed like natural states to them. But he didn’t want Charles to be upset—it was physically painful for Erik, seeing those blue eyes filled with anxiety.
“You’re not in danger,” Erik said again, his tone soothing as he rubbed Charles’s foot. “We can’t mate yet because… we’re traveling.” He hoped this concept would gain some purchase in Charles’s mind; you could never tell what the Omegas had been exposed to, or what of that would penetrate the heat.
“Traveling?” Charles repeated quizzically. “Like on a boat?”
“Like on a boat,” Erik agreed readily. Whatever worked.
“A boat,” he heard Logan mutter.
“To a temporary den, which is safe,” Erik explained.
“We will mate?” Charles guessed happily.
“At the temporary den,” Erik confirmed. He was having trouble thinking of anything else, his thoughts smooth-hot-wet-rough-mine as he stroked the boy’s skin. He was going to find every single freckle and christen it with his tongue.
Erik cleared his throat sharply, eyes refocusing on Charles, who surely knew exactly what Erik was thinking. “Then we’ll go to our main den, which is very safe,” Erik continued. He gave more or less the same speech to each Omega he worked with, over and over so they would know what was happening. Its familiarity was the only thing that allowed him to continue. “We have a large pack, lots of people to protect you.” At this point Omegas tended to care about two things only, sex and safety, though not combining the two, as their goal was to get pregnant. Which of course would be terribly irresponsible of Erik, hence why Moira was waiting at the hotel with a contraceptive shot.