Wyatt: The Unchained Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance Read online

  WYATT

  THE UNCHAINED OMEGAVERSE

  CALLIE RHODES

  CONTENTS

  Wyatt

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Also by Callie Rhodes

  WYATT

  There’s nothing sweeter than forbidden fruit.

  He was the one man she couldn’t have.

  After years of torture in a secret government facility, Wyatt is still struggling to recover from the scars he suffered—both physical and mental. Even now that he’s free, he can’t forget the poor, doomed omega they ripped from his arms and murdered in front of him. From that moment, Wyatt swore that never touch another woman again…until her met her.

  She was the woman he shouldn’t want.

  Darlene never imagined her life would end up this way. What started off as helping a beloved friend in the new Alpha Boundaryland has turned into full-time smuggling operation. The only trouble is she still can’t stand alphas, and they feel the same way about her. Well, most of them do…all except him.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Darlene Coates knew what most betas would call what she did every week on her day off—smuggling.

  How else to describe getting up before dawn, loading the bed of her old pickup truck with a variety of goods she'd purchased the prior week, then driving four hours and making a slightly illegal border crossing to deliver them?

  Of course, there were uglier terms for her actions—trafficking, felony, treason. And the words they could hurl against her personally were much worse.

  Traitor.

  Slut.

  Whore.

  Darlene gave a bitter laugh. Could call her? Yeah, the time for abstract thinking was long gone. As of a week ago, the worst case scenario was actually happening. Honestly, it was fairly astounding that it had taken this long for anyone to figure it out.

  She'd been making these runs for the last month and a half, driving to the heart of the new Ozark Boundaryland every week to bring supplies to her very best friend in the world.

  When Sarah had become an omega, Darlene had been shocked and horrified…but she wasn't about to hang her friend out to dry. Not when Sarah had seen her through every awful episode of the shit-show of her life for the last two decades.

  And definitely not when Sarah needed her the most.

  It wasn't Sarah's fault she'd become an omega or mated with an alpha—even if he was one of the most irredeemable assholes Darlene had ever met. It was what omegas did, and try as she might, Darlene hadn't been able to find any evidence that Sarah was unhappy.

  In fact, Sarah seemed downright giddy with happiness, which was the only reason Darlene had tried to give Archer a chance.

  The alpha might be a king-sized jerk, but she couldn't blame him. Not entirely, anyway. Archer was one of the alphas who'd recently escaped the secret underground government lab where he and hundreds like him had been imprisoned and tortured for years.

  Darlene knew firsthand how trauma could fuck a person up. But despite what he'd been through, Archer had single-handedly convinced the beta government to hand over almost ten thousand square miles of land in Missouri to the alphas. On top of that, he took care of Sarah, so he couldn't be all bad.

  Still, Darlene had no desire to hang out with him. Everything she did was for Sarah.

  And for good reason. Calling Sarah her best friend was like calling Lupita Nyong'o's pearl-encrusted Oscar gown a nice frock.

  Sarah was everything to Darlene, closer to a sister—the nearest thing to family that Darlene had left. Sarah had comforted her after her parents died, visited when she'd gone into the foster care system, and been there for every one of life's bumps and bruises—and because of that, Darlene would never give up on her, no matter what their friendship demanded of her.

  Though as of yesterday, those demands were going to be a lot harder to meet.

  No, Darlene chided herself. She wasn't going to think about that right now. It wouldn't do any good.

  It didn't matter that some nosy alpha hater had spotted her driving out of the boundaryland last week and taken her picture. There wasn't a damn thing Darlene could do about the fact that the bastard had posted it to the internet.

  From there, the photo had taken on a life of its own, going viral and hitting the news. Journalists had tracked down Darlene’s name and address. Anonymous keyboard warriors had contacted her supervisor and landlord, and now...well, now things weren't looking so good.

  But that was a tomorrow problem, she reminded herself. Today, Darlene had a different job to do.

  Darlene greeted the open road with a whoop and turned up the volume of the ancient CD player in her equally ancient pickup, determined to forget her troubles for the next few hours.

  Getting to spend time with her best friend was the best part of Darlene's weekly trip to the Ozarks, but it wasn't the only benefit. The alphas gave her a small cut of every trade, and while it wasn't enough to live on, she made a little more each week as newcomers added to the population. Soon she'd have to increase the frequency of her runs or trade up to a bigger truck…assuming she could find a new place to live along with a new job to pay for it.

  There were other perks that were harder to put a price tag on. The trip from St. Louis to the southwest corner of the state might be long, but it was also four hours of windows-rolled-down, speakers-blaring, singing-at-the-top-of-her-lungs freedom. Darlene threw back her head and sang along, belting out made-up lyrics when she didn't know the real ones.

  No one had to tell her she was crap, off-key, and rhythmically challenged. Darlene didn't care. She sang for herself and no one else, for the simple joy of it in a life that held too few.

  The odometer crept up as she pushed the truck to its limits. Its feeble old shocks were no match for the road that hadn't been maintained for years, not since the mass beta migration from rural areas to the cities.

  Darlene had tied down the load, but the jars of peanut butter and baking soda rattled against tools and lumber and even a sweet set of top-of-the-line Metzeler motorcycle tires as the first few bars of a-ha's 'Take on Me' started to play.

  Her mother's favorite song. A smile lifted Darlene's lips, the first one all week. An omen—it had to be.

  "Better days ahead, Mama," Darlene hollered. The wind from the open window whipped her hair around her face as she sang along to the eighties pop hit. She did okay until she came to the verse that always confounded her, even though she'd heard it a thousand times.

  "I'll…be…God…in a BLTeeeeeee!"

  Damn, it felt good to let go like that. For a few moments, Darlene forgot all about her dwindling bank account or the note she'd found this morning under her windshield that said, "We're coming for you and your family, alpha slut".

  The joke was on them. Her family was long gone.

  Try as Darlene might, though, the worries wouldn't stay gone. As soon as the song ended, reality came crashing back.

  Jobs like the one she'd just lost didn't come along every day, especially for people like her. Working in the warehouse wasn't exactly Darlene's dream, but the pay and benefits were great, and she didn't have to d
eal with the public.

  She should have known it wouldn't last.

  The irony was that Darlene, despite being called an alpha whore or slut (or, in one memorable case, an 'alpha's Jezebel'), had never been—and still wasn't—an alpha fan. A couple months ago, she might have even agreed with the people who considered alphas dangerous, oversized lowlifes who had no place in her country.

  But not anymore.

  It wasn't as if the alphas had done anything to endear themselves to her. Besides, they had one characteristic that made them absolutely off-limits: Sarah had explained that experiments conducted on Archer and the others left them with the ability to change the natures of even the most pureblood beta women, turning them into omegas. Since then, Darlene had been careful to keep her distance.

  It wasn’t hard to do. They weren't exactly lining up to express their gratitude during her weekly visits. Which was fine by her. After all, Darlene wasn't known for being the most gracious person either.

  After their first disastrous encounter, Archer complained that Darlene's truck made too much noise, so she responded by removing her muffler the following week.

  After that, Archer made sure he was out of the house every Saturday afternoon, leaving Sarah and Darlene to unload the goods and check them off the list posted on the fence post.

  Darlene considered it a win/win. Sarah seemed relieved not to have to play peacemaker, and Darlene didn't have to waste her precious free time trying to appease a scowling alpha.

  She caught herself holding her breath as she pulled into the driveway in front of Sarah's house. For the first time, Sarah wasn't waiting for her usual spot on the porch, waving like mad with a big grin on her face.

  Darlene parked and sat for a moment, trying to decide what to do. The last thing she wanted was to run into Archer while Sarah was out of the house, but if Sarah had gone on an errand, it might be unavoidable. Then again, what kind of errand could Sarah possibly be doing? It wasn't like she was picking up the dry cleaning or running out for a latte.

  An uneasy feeling teased at Darlene's spine, and she took her rifle from the gun rack in the back of the cab before heading for the door.

  No one came when she knocked. She peered through the front window, but there was no movement inside the house. She tried the back door with no luck.

  Returning to the front of the house, Darlene held her weapon at the ready, but nothing disturbed the silence. Her unease grew deeper. Sarah knew when Darlene had planned to arrive, and it wasn't like her friend to forget.

  She was trying to decide what to do when a man spoke from only a few feet away.

  "There's no one here but me."

  Darlene was down in a shooting stance and sighting along the barrel almost before the stranger finished his sentence. It took her only a fraction of a second to line up an unfamiliar alpha in her sights. He was leaning casually against her truck, his posture as relaxed as if he was about to take a nap.

  "Who the hell are you? Where's Sarah?"

  The alpha's only response to the Ruger trained on his heart was a slightly raised eyebrow.

  "Name's Wyatt," he said affably, one corner of his mouth quirking slightly. "And Sarah's with Archer. They're showing houses to one of the new alphas."

  Darlene narrowed her eyes, considering. She knew her friend had taken on the task of readying abandoned houses in the area for new arrivals. Also, alphas had a single redeeming quality—they didn't lie.

  "When will she be back?"

  The alpha shrugged, pushing himself off the truck. Wisely, he didn't come any closer. "I'm not her secretary."

  "Then who are you? And why are you lurking around Sarah's house when she's not home?"

  "Just a neighbor." He nodded at the supplies packed into the truck bed. "And I was waiting for you, assuming you're Darlene."

  Darlene finally lowered the gun slightly. His explanation made sense—though something about this alpha gave her an odd feeling, a sort of tingling awareness that swept through her when he spoke. Maybe it was his unsettling eyes—a pale shade on the green side of blue—or the fact that he was dressed more like a beach bum than an alpha.

  The rest of the alphas Darlene had seen wore jeans and plain T-shirts, work boots, maybe some camo gear, but Wyatt had on a colorful shirt printed with palm trees, old board shorts, and slip-on canvas shoes.

  Still, underneath his easy demeanor, Darlene knew he was every bit as dangerous as the rest of them.

  He looked a little taller than Archer's seven feet and three inches, and his arms were roped with such huge muscles that his shirt strained to stretch over his massive shoulders. He might be handsome, with a movie-star grin and thick hair and the stubble of a beard covering a strong jaw, but he moved with deadly grace.

  Archer might infuriate her, but at least Darlene knew where she stood with him. This alpha gave off an unusual energy that she couldn't quite tease apart—as though he might smile one moment and attack the next.

  Darlene adjusted her grip on the rifle, hoping to drive home that the weapon wasn't for show. But the alpha—Wyatt—didn't so much as blink.

  "If you ordered supplies, you're going to have to wait a little longer," Darlene told him. "I don't do business with alphas directly. That's part of my deal with Archer. You'll have to come back for your order later after I've unpacked and left."

  "I thought I'd seen you trading with some of the guys," Wyatt said. When Darlene made no response, he added, "I could help you unload. Since I'm here."

  "I don't need any help."

  The corner of his mouth lifted again. "Then I guess I'll wait."

  He folded his arms in front of his broad chest as though he was prepared to stand there all day, and Darlene had to reign in a surge of frustration. She motioned toward the road with the rifle barrel.

  "Move behind the fence."

  Wyatt chuckled softly. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

  Darlene tensed at the steely conviction hidden beneath his calm, deep voice, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "Why not?"

  "Listen, Darlene," he said patiently. "I get that you and Archer have an understanding, but this is his land, and you don't have the right to order anyone off of it. Especially not invited guests."

  Darlene's frustration deepened.

  Technically, he was right; but after the week she had, she wasn't in the mood to be schooled on etiquette by a goddamn alpha. She ignored her thudding heart and started down the porch steps.

  "Fine. Then I guess everybody can wait until next week for their supplies." Instantly, Darlene regretted her rash move. On the ground, the alpha towered over her. She had to look up to gauge his reaction.

  "Don't let me run you off." He sounded almost amused. "I took you for stronger than that."

  "You don't know anything about me," Darlene spat.

  "Tell you what—how about I wait on the far end of the porch while you do what you came here to do. I promise I won't come near you or say a single word while you work."

  Darlene felt immobilized with fury, but she'd boxed herself in. She didn't want to leave, not if there was a chance Sarah would get back in time to visit. Nothing waited for her at home but a mailbox full of threats and a dinner of canned soup. She also couldn't stand to let Wyatt think he'd intimidated her.

  And he’d promised. Darlene had learned enough about alphas in the last few weeks to know they always kept their word.

  "Fine," she muttered, stepping back to give the massive alpha a wide buffer as he passed and keeping the rifle trained on him until he was settled in one of the big wooden chairs on the porch.

  Reluctantly, Darlene rested the rifle against the truck and opened the tailgate. Despite Sarah insisting that a gun didn't offer any protection in the Boundaryland, its presence gave Darlene comfort.

  It might take a hell of a lot more firepower to bring down an alpha than a beta, but at least the feeling of the gun in her hands gave her the illusion of control.

  Darlene was careful to
keep her eye on Wyatt as she unloaded the supplies as quickly as she could. It wasn't hard. The man was particularly easy to look at...especially for an alpha.

  Ordinarily, she took the time to organize the merchandise in neat rows in front of the shed at the back of the house, but today she dumped it all in a pile on the front lawn.

  Something still confused her, however. She knew how much alphas hated guns. The first time she'd met Archer, he had become enraged at the sight of her rifle. It wasn't just that Darlene had it pointed at his chest; he treated its very existence like it was a personal insult.

  Sarah later explained that all alphas were that way. They hated beta weapons on principle—but Wyatt barely seemed to notice her gun at all, much less care.

  "That's it?"

  Darlene jumped at the sound of Wyatt's voice, shocked to find him standing a few feet away. She'd just checked on him seconds earlier—how did he manage to move so fast? So quietly?

  She glanced at the rifle, but Wyatt was faster, picking it up before she could make a grab for it. She'd expected him to turn it on her, or at least to destroy it. Lord knew he was plenty strong enough to bend the barrel with his bare hands. To her surprise, he opened the passenger door and slid the weapon back into the rack.

  "Is that all for this week's delivery?" There was no anger in his voice, only a trace of disappointment.

  "Yes." Darlene tried to sound firm and unafraid, but being so close to such a dangerous threat without a gun to hide behind made her tremble.

  "I put in a request for a couple of books. Thought you might have brought them."