C3 Dylan.

I sighed, stepping out of the club and eyeing the five hundred dollars the manager had given me for the three days' work I had done. I also agreed to the two three-hour afternoon shifts after negotiating with him for fifty-fifty for all five shifts. He reluctantly agreed because I was one of the most sought omegas in that club. They said I was submissive and obedient.

No one in the coffee shop, cake shop, flower shop, or bookshop would believe that. Because I had broken one or two alpha noses for eyeing me wrongly. Or I had run my mouth against them. Hell, I couldn't believe it myself that I could tolerate those things.

I guess I am just that good at compartmentalizing things in the dark. I mostly think about Ian playing with me and happy things like that, making appropriate sounds to make them believe I am enjoying myself, not that they care about it. Last night was the only exception to it. At least, I think it is because I can't imagine West just taking pleasure.

I just couldn't do it in broad daylight, couldn't pretend or think about anything, so I lashed out and they threw me out of the job. I really need to get at least one full-time job, so I can free myself from selling my body.

I hate every second of it.

Every time I see the marks they left; I want to burn my body to purify it.

But what the fuck can I do? It's just too hard to get a job. Though omegas are achieving great things all over the world, some alphas want omegas to be their little submissive sex slaves and child-birthing machines. I don't resent that part, but I would love to be a worker slash child-birthing machine.

"Dylan." A familiar voice shouted, making me stop in my tracks and turn.

"Hey, Grace. What's up?"

"What the hell did you do with that guy?" My heart literally stopped. Did... did West complain about how I cursed at him? I did it because I was angry that he had knotted me. And he didn't say anything about that to me. She must have seen the panic on my face as she clasped my hands tightly and said, "Don't panic, dumbass. It's good news. He gave us ten thousand dollars and guess what?"

"What?" I whispered, my mind reeling from the fact that he had paid ten thousand dollars for two orgasms and sleeping. Hell, if everyone paid like that, I would be a millionaire by the end of the month. That's just an exaggeration, mind you.

"He specifically asked grandpa to give that all to you."

"Then why didn't your grandpa give me?"

"He just now remembered it." She shrugged.

"What about the commission?"

"When grandpa stated it, the guy gave the six thousand commission. And he warned grandpa to pay every single dollar from the ten-thousand to you." She extended the check. I took it from her with shaking hands.

"Thank you so much."

"Thank that rich guy if you see him." She said and left me.

As I walked, the streets of San Francisco came alive around me. The sight of people going about their work has never failed to boost me up. They gave me some sense of confidence that one day I would wake up with them and not do the walk of shame. The murky, dark streets faded in the background as I walked through my childhood area.

I have seen and lived in all three divisions of San Francisco; the poor, the middle, and the rich. All three have their unique challenges and opportunities. I walked the six miles from the club to West's house in Seacliff, feeling lightheaded from the fact that I had gone from the owner a few hundred dollars, not stupid to give all the money to my mother without saving anything, to ten thousand in a matter of moments.

West's house is a big palatial mansion with a combo of both modern and classic styles. The guards, upon seeing me, opened the gilded gates. I always envied them because they made more money than me just by opening and closing the gates. Shaking my head, I made my way over to the back side of the house where the single black oak tree was. I checked it out for intruders, and when I found none, I dug out the money box from under it and hid the check inside.

I kind of have a history with this type of tree. In the forest near my grandpa's house, there is this lone black oak. Dad and I used that as our military base when I had an I-am-going-to-become-a-military-officer phase. And my heart broke when dad, years later, confessed that Omega couldn't go to the military. I didn't visit the base after that. When I found this tree here, I was ecstatic because it made me feel like I was always close to my dad.

*****

"Papa." Ian-my nine months old-cooed as I entered our room. It was spacious. My canopy bed was set up on top of a rectangular platform, and Ian's crib was set up alongside it. I was tired from work, and I wanted to spend some time with my son. I kissed Ian on the top of his head and stroked his back. He had my eyes and blonde hair.

"I will take care of my brother, Lou. You can go." I said to his nanny. The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. For the people in and out of this house, Ian is just my half-brother, not the precious thing I carried in my womb for eight months.

"Papa." It was one of the few words Ian had learned, besides dragon and wolf. And it scared the hell out of me the first time he called me that, but no one thought anything of it. I was glad because I couldn't stand him calling me brother.

"Yes, sir." She exited the room. I took a quick shower and ran the bath in the ensuite bathroom.

I stared at the bruise forming at the joint of my neck, just an inch or two below my scent gland through the mirror. And felt a pang of need and longing pass through me. How would it feel to be bonded to an alpha, my alpha? From what I have heard, it feels like being connected to the alpha from the very core of our soul.

I stepped out of the bathroom, tying a towel around my waist, and the room was filled with the sweet, spicy smell of cinnamon. Westley. My head snapped up and I found him leaning over Ian's crib, playing with him. My heart began beating faster, and my breathing became heavier. Did he come to see me? Is he feeling something for me? I felt my face flush with heat as I thought of last night.

I cleared my throat to make my presence known, "What are you doing here?" I asked as if my body wasn't burning up in his presence. He turned, and his heated gaze racked up and down my body. My cock became hard and my hole started releasing slick. His nostrils flared as he, no doubt, caught the scent of my arousal and musk.