To Tame an Omega

Chapter 1 “Hey, Rafe?” Rafael Vargas popped the three capsules into his mouth and choked them down. Ignoring the lump in his throat, he concealed the open bottle in his palm as he turned around to answer. The newest intern at Caldwell Cyber Security was leaning against the door frame of the break room, watching him. Cute little girl—at five foot nothing, wearing over-sized glasses, she looked all of twelve years old. Of course, from his lofty perspective of twenty-eight, all teens looked like babies. She scowled as if reading his condescending thoughts and said, “Caldwell’s about to pop. Wants you in his office—like now. Must be something big.” Probably not. Rafe’s blustery boss lived for melodrama. “Okay, thanks. By the way, do you need help with the Gaston Industries project?” Over time, Rafe had found himself in the position of mother hen to the interns who rotated through the company. Janet was his favorite. Maybe because the judge had sentenced her to probation and arranged an internship after they caught her hacking the police computer network. Lawbreakers should stick together. She rolled her eyes at his offer of help. “Of course not. That project was way too easy.” A smile of pure mischief brightened her face. “Maybe you should find something a little more challenging for me. I’m kind of dangerous when I’m bored.” Rafe chuckled at the girl’s rock-solid self-confidence. “Don’t get too cocky. You’ve still got a ways to go to beat me.” She treated him to a low, mocking bow and murmured, “I salute your greatness, oh digital god,” as she backed into the hallway and fled. Smart ass. And very skilled. She might well outdo him in the next few years. But at least for now, he was the resident expert. He filled a paper cup with water and drank enough to send the capsules on their way. Thank God his late mother had been the resident expert in the biochemical compounds of herbs. Without her teaching him what worked to help dull his omega hormones and how to prepare it, he’d have been snatched up long ago. Or he’d be half insane from so many years of full-strength chemical suppressants. He took an appreciative sniff of the pill bottle before replacing the cap. Another benefit of the pungent herbs was to mask his omega scent from any overly curious alpha nose. The perfect pill. Too bad she’d never found a cure for the loneliness that went along with hiding who he was. He tucked the bottle into his pocket, poured a cup of coffee, and headed to his boss’s office. Rafe stood in Caldwell’s doorway and watched as the man dug through a file drawer, breathing hard. Janet was right—the boss did look like he was going to pop. The man glanced up from his task. “There you are! I sent that new girl—what’s her name?—to fetch you ages ago.” Frowning, he added, “You know, I’m still not comfortable having her doing her community service in my company.” Before Rafe could yet again reassure his boss of Janet’s value, the man continued, “But that’s not important now.” Caldwell straightened, took a deep breath, and announced, “We have a situation.” Rafe sat down in one of the guest chairs, idly wondering what had prompted this summons. Most often, a “situation” was nothing more alarming than a client postponing a scheduled service visit. Caldwell never failed to overreact to little things but seemed oblivious to the important stuff. When Rafe first started work there, he’d been extra vigilant. The boss, despite being laughably dramatic, was an alpha. Even with the suppressants and the herbs, any other alpha might have seen through Rafe’s masquerade. Not this one. This one was too wrapped up in himself and his business to pay much attention. Rafe offered what he hoped was a calm smile. “Who needs help, boss?” “It’s the government.” A trickle of unease seeped through him. Anything to do with the people who fifteen years ago had confiscated all omega children to be raised on breeding farms scared the s**t out of him. Keeping his tone casual, he asked, “And what do they need?” The man pointed a chubby index finger at him and said, “You.” Grinning, he added, “It’s about time.” The trickle burst its dam. They must have found out he was an omega—a wild, unbroken, unmated omega. Damn. Damn. Damn. Fighting the impulse to run, Rafe took a moment to breathe—and think—before he did something stupid. If Caldwell knew, the man’s reaction would have been explosive. So they hadn’t identified him as omega. But had they found out Rafe was the hacker responsible for the raid on the omega breeding farm? Rafe swallowed a panicked laugh. Didn’t really matter. If they arrested him, the suppressants would wear off in a matter of days. Then he’d be headed to his own omega farm for training in how to be a submissive little breeder for some grunting alpha. He cursed the bad timing. Sure, his luck couldn’t last forever. But did it have to all go to hell now? When the activist group recruited him, he’d at last found the means and the courage to fight for his fellow omegas instead of hiding and ignoring their plight. Taking a sip of coffee that burned its way down his throat like pure acid, Rafe cast a surreptitious glance toward the hallway. No armed guards. The window revealed only a rain-drenched parking lot. No prisoner transport van. Okay. Maybe he was panicking for nothing. “The government wants me for what?” Rafe cringed at the thready sound of his voice. Caldwell chuckled. “Your skills, of course. And let me tell you, this could be quite a bonanza—a make-or-break opportunity.” He gestured to the disarranged file drawer. “I was going to bring the complimentary letters I’ve gotten about your work. A little bragging never hurts.” So they didn’t know anything! Rafe forced down a shout of glee and concentrated on keeping his expression neutral. All he had to do was dodge this government assignment and keep out of sight—and out of scent range. He set the coffee cup on the desk and sorted through the bouquet of excuses blooming in his head while Caldwell kept talking. “I haven’t told you the best part. Care to guess who’s asking for our help?” A broad smile of anticipation lit Caldwell’s doughy face. Like a high school girl revealing a nugget of hot gossip, the man leaned forward and whispered, “Grant Tenereth.” He eased back in the chair with an expectant look, no doubt waiting for awed admiration. Well, Rafe could provide the awe part all right—shock and awe. He choked. On nothing or on something—it sure wasn’t spit because his mouth had gone dry as a summer day in Las Vegas. Grant f*****g Tenereth? At the tender age of thirty-four, the youngest, most hard-assed alpha bastard ever to be appointed to run the Omega Council? According to rumor, the reason the man didn’t have a mate yet was he was too busy making love to the rulebook. An urge to fly out of there and never look back seized Rafe. Only by wrapping his fingers tight around the arms of the chair could he hold himself down. He had to stay in control—omegas who panicked and ran always got caught. His long term success was due to years of hiding in plain sight. No, he had to think his way out of this. Maybe Caldwell’s ego was the key—a little manipulation might work. He arranged his lips in a smile. “That’s quite a coup for the company. And for you. You’ll want to be hands-on with this, so I’ll stay in the background and let you get the credit you deserve.” “Nonsense. He told me to deliver you personally.” Oh, God. The alpha had custom-ordered him. Was that when the restraints would be brought out? “Tenereth picked you because you’re the best in the field. And because you’re a beta.” He gave Rafe a conspiratorial wink. “Probably doesn’t want to butt heads with a tough old alpha like me.” Tenereth wanted a beta? Too bad there wasn’t one available. Could this get any worse? Caldwell stood and plucked his pond-scum green suit jacket from the coat rack. “Let’s go. The meeting’s in half an hour. Can’t make a good impression if we’re late.” “What? Right now?” Rafe was thirty minutes away from being presented to Grant Tenereth? A helpless whimper rose in his throat as behind the terror, his damned omega hormones perked up at the prospect of meeting a prime alpha. If he couldn’t shut them down fast, even his heedless boss would recognize a blossoming omega scent. “But I’m still in the middle of the Donaldson program.” “Let what’s-her-name handle it. A government contract like this could mean millions.” The man rubbed his palms together as if feeling the arousing touch of money already. Scrambling for excuses, Rafe protested, “But I won’t make a good impression. I’m not prepared.” “No way you could be—he hasn’t told us yet what the assignment is. Very hush hush—we’ll be asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” Caldwell had moved out from behind his desk and stood towering over Rafe. “Now, up and at ‘em—I want to get there before the storm gets any worse.” What was he supposed to do now? More herb capsules? Not strong enough—not to ward off an alpha in his prime. He needed a suppressant injection. And that meant a trip to the employee locker room—without Caldwell. What excuse would work? He picked up the coffee, and pretending to take a last sip, dumped it on his shirt. Leaping up, he cried, “Damn, what a mess.” Caldwell backed away to protect the awful suit, leaving enough room for Rafe to escape. Now or never. As he shot into the hall, Rafe called over his shoulder, “I’ve got a clean shirt in my locker. Won’t be a minute.” He bolted before his boss could open his mouth to protest. But the heavyset man’s footfalls followed him as Rafe ran. Damn it. He pushed open the door and skidded to a halt in front of his locker. Breathing hard, he spun the combination, jerked on the lock, and flung open the door. From far in the back, he dragged out his shaving kit. Fingers fumbling, he dug into the hidden side pocket and pulled out a syringe of clear liquid—enough for one more injection. He pulled his coffee-drenched shirt over his head, undid his pants to expose his hip, and jabbed the needle in. In an instant, slimy cold seeped through his veins. Shivering, he shoved the empty syringe into the kit, grabbed his clean shirt, and turned around. Janet stood at the end of the row of lockers, watching him with a troubled look on her face. Double damn. What if she thought he was using drugs—the recreational kind? Would she say anything to the boss? He hoped not, but that would be one sure-fire way to get Caldwell to remember her name. Well, they were about to find out. Caldwell pushed his way through the door. “There you are. Let’s go.” The stern voice made it clear the man wouldn’t tolerate any more delays. With no options available, Rafe finished dressing and donned his jacket. Using his body to block Caldwell’s view, he slipped the bottle of herbal pills inside the locker before he closed the door. No point having anything on him that might raise questions. He glanced toward Janet, but she’d melted into the shadowy corner. Good. Maybe she wouldn’t report him after all. He nodded to her, hoping to convey his thanks as well as a promise they’d talk later—if he made it back. Wearing a grim smile, he followed Caldwell through the hallway and out into the storm. Time to be served up to the hungry, unmated alpha who would likely destroy his life.