Unhinged Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 4)

Several Hours Earlier

Itake another long drag on my cigar, savoring the bitter smoke as it fills my lungs. The quiet of my living room is broken only by the low murmur of the TV, some mindless game show I’m not really watching. I know who wins anyway. Just background noise to fill the silence.

It’s peaceful.

Calm.

Exactly what I’ve always wanted.

So why the fuck does it feel so wrong?

I grunt in annoyance, reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. The amber liquid sloshes as I pour myself another glass, spilling a few drops onto the worn wood.

Doesn’t matter.

This place has seen worse.

My eye drifts to the empty space on the couch beside me. The spot where that golden-haired menace used to sprawl, prattling on about whatever inane bullshit was occupying his mind that day. Always talking. Always moving. A constant whirlwind of chaos and drama.

And now… nothing.

Just blessed fucking silence.

Haven’t missed him since he moved out. Don’t miss him now.

I knock back the whiskey, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat. This is what I wanted, isn’t it? Peace and quiet. No more headaches. No more cleaning up after Raven’s messes or bailing him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into this time.

No more…

Fuck.

The TV drones on, the winner of the game show leaping around in excitement while music blares and confetti falls around him because he won a vacation to some island that’s a mile underwater now. It’s the kind of mindless entertainment I used to crave after a long day of dealing with Raven’s bullshit.

Now it just feels hollow.

I catch myself straining to hear the sound of boots on the stairs, that familiar voice calling out some new ridiculous nickname. But there’s nothing. Just the emptiness of my own thoughts echoing in this too-quiet room. And the distant sound of fucking.

I turn up the game show, the jazz theme song and cheering blasting loud enough to drown out the barely audible moans. But all of a sudden, that’s unbearable, too.

And my eye fucking hurts.

Or where my eye used to be.

‘Goddammit,’ I mutter, hauling myself to my feet.

I lumber into the bathroom, the floorboards creaking beneath my boots. The fluorescent light flickers to life, harsh and unforgiving as I stare at my reflection in the cracked mirror.

One eye stares back at me. The other…

With a grimace, I reach up and peel off the eye patch. The scarred flesh beneath is an angry red, irritated from where the patch has been rubbing against my cheekbone. I fish the small jar of ointment out of the medicine cabinet, dabbing it gingerly on the bottom edge of the empty socket.

I try not to look too closely at the ruin of my face. At the jagged scar tissue, the sunken hollow where my eye used to be.

Raven would have something to say about this. Some smartass comment about how I’m being ’emo’ or whatever the fuck. He’d probably try to bedazzle the damn eye patch or some shit. Stick rhinestones on it.

The thought brings a reluctant smile to my lips before I can stop it.

‘You’re losing it, Geo,’ I growl at my reflection.

But the words lack their usual bite. Instead, they just sound… tired. Worn down, like everything else in this godforsaken wasteland.

I slap the eye patch back on, harder than necessary. The sting is a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest that I refuse to acknowledge. I should probably let it breathe a little, but I don’t feel like catching a glimpse of it when I’m not expecting it.

I’m already in a weird-ass mood tonight.

Back in the living room, I pour myself another drink. The level in the bottle is getting dangerously low. Might need to make a run soon, stock up on supplies.

Used to be Raven’s job, once upon a time. Little shit always knew where to find the good stuff, even out here in the ass-end of nowhere.

I sink back onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. The TV drones on, but I’m not really seeing it anymore. Instead, my mind keeps drifting back to that day on the road. To Raven’s retreating form, golden hair catching the last rays of sunlight as he walked away.

Walked to his death.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it?

A suicide mission.

Going up against Nikolai fucking Vlakov, all for some omega he doesn’t even know. An omega he caught a single glimpse of once. Guess even the most submissive alpha that walks this earth isn’t immune to the scent of an omega.

There is one thing I can thank that shithead Nikolai for. When he carved my eye out of my head, the damage and resulting infection fucked up my sense of smell. Made it tougher for me to be affected by scents. Turned out to be a useful trait considering my line of work.

Useful enough that I finished the job by injecting acid straight into the cavity through my eye socket where the tear duct used to be.

I can still get a whiff of particularly strong scents, but in a normal human way. The way humans used to be before all this alpha and omega shit started evolving all over the world as a direct result of just how badly we fucked up the planet.

So maybe I just don’t get it.

Maybe the scent of moon pussy or whatever the fuck Raven said is just so powerful, he really didn’t have a choice but to chase that strange straight into the very bowels of hell. And that’s where he might be right now, for all I know. Throwing the biggest party the literal underworld has ever seen.

He sure likes to fuck around in my underworld. The one I’ve made myself the lord of. The one he likes to treat like his own personal playground every time he shows up. Always has the worst timing, too. It’s always when things are finally feeling fucking normal.

And I don’t feel normal often.noveldrama

You know what?

I’m glad to be rid of him.

This calls for celebration, not bitching and moaning and brooding. A little more whiskey and one of the cigars I save for special occasions should do the trick. Should make my fucked up face stop hurting, too.

Peace and quiet is all I’ve ever wanted.

And this time, it’s permanent.

So why does it feel like I’ve lost something I didn’t even know I had?

The whiskey isn’t doing its job anymore. The burn in my throat can’t quite drown out the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that’s starting to feel uncomfortably like…

Guilt.

‘Fuck,’ I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I shouldn’t care. Raven made his choice. He may look too innocent for this world, but he’s still a grown-ass man, capable of making his own decisions. Even if those decisions are monumentally stupid and likely to get him killed in horrifically painful ways.

But I do care.

Somewhere along the line, that irritating little shit wormed his way past my defenses. Became more than just another stray looking for scraps.

He became…

Family.

The word sits heavy in my mind, uncomfortable and foreign. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding attachments, keeping everyone at arm’s length.

It’s safer that way.

Easier.

Lonelier.

I grunt in frustration, hauling myself to my feet again. Can’t sit still. Need to move, to do something. Anything to quiet the voice in the back of my head telling me I fucked up. That I should have stopped him, should have dragged his scrawny ass back here and locked him in the basement until this latest obsession passed. And if it never did, so fucking be it. He’d just have to be my prisoner, then.

He’d probably love being a pet.

But I didn’t do that.

I didn’t save him.

I let him go.

Watched him walk away, knowing full well he was marching to his death.

Some ‘daddy’ I turned out to be.

No wonder the kid’s so fucked up.

I find myself pacing the small living room, unable to settle. The silence that used to be so comforting now feels oppressive. Suffocating, even. Like the damn walls are closing in around me.

‘Fuck!’ I snarl, slamming my fist into the closest wall and leaving a crater behind. The kind of bullshit Raven would hang a frame over to mark the occasion where I lost my goddamn temper over him. And he isn’t even here.

And that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?

Raven.

Isn’t.

Here.

I stomp up my stairs, down a few halls, and throw the door open that leads out into the market. The musty but marginally cooler air feels good against my face. Grounds me. Makes me feel like I’m not about to mentally snap. It’s bad enough I punched a wall. I may be a grumpy son of a bitch, but it’s rare for me to actually lose my head like that.

Then I catch a glimpse of a golden flash in the crowd.

My heart fucking stops.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m shoving my way through the press of bodies, my voice ripping from my throat.

‘Raven!’

The name echoes off the grimy walls of the market, drawing curious stares. I don’t give a shit. My eye is locked on that blond head bobbing through the sea of people. He’s moving away from me, and panic claws at my chest.

No.

Not again.

I’m not letting him walk away this time.

Peace and quiet be damned.

I lunge forward, my hand closing around a slim shoulder. With a snarl, I spin the figure around, ready to tear into that smug bastard for daring to show his face here after⁠—

It’s not Raven.

The man staring up at me with wide, terrified eyes is a stranger. Just some run-of-the-mill blond guy, his face pale with shock as he takes in my towering frame and the rage I know is etched into every line of my face.

‘I-I’m sorry,’ he stammers. ‘I think you have the wrong guy.’

For a long moment, I can’t move. Can’t speak. I just stare at this poor fucker who had the misfortune of having hair the same shade as the asshole currently driving me to madness.

With a low growl, I release him. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, bolting into the crowd like his ass is on fire. Smart man.

I stand there, chest heaving, as the reality of what just happened sinks in. Fuck. I really have lost my mind.

There’s no reason Raven would be here anyway. I know that. He’d be going straight for Nikolai, the suicidal little shit. So why the fuck am I seeing his ghost everywhere I look?

Something dark and ugly twists in my gut.

An emotion I’m not ready to name.

Fuck this.

I start stalking through the market like a man possessed, grabbing random people and demanding information. ‘Tall, muscular Vrissian asshole,’ I snarl at a trembling beta. ‘White hair, round red sunglasses, scarred face, red coat. Can’t miss him. Ring any bells?’

Most of them just shake their heads, eyes wide with fear. A few mutter something about not having seen anyone like that. One particularly brave—or stupid—alpha actually has the balls to tell me to fuck off.

I leave him nursing a broken nose that’ll be dribbling blood and snot for a week.

As I prowl deeper into the bowels of the market, my frustration mounting with each dead end, I catch a scrap of a conversation. Just a scrap, but it’s enough to make me stop in my tracks.

‘—I’m telling you, she’s the most fucking gorgeous omega I’ve ever seen,’ a big alpha is saying, his eyes glazed over like he’s describing a religious experience. ‘All soft curves, an ass that could turn a man into a wolf⁠—’

“Her hair really does look like moonlight,’ the smaller beta at his side finishes dreamily.

I freeze, my blood turning to ice in my veins.

Shit.

That’s her.

The omega Raven’s chasing.

Has to be. Which means these idiots must be Nikolai’s goons.

In an instant, I’m on them. The alpha yelps in surprise as I grab him by the front of his shirt, slamming him up against the nearest wall. ‘Where the fuck is she?’ I growl, my face inches from his. “And where is Nikolai Vlakov?’

The alpha’s eyes go wide, darting to the beta for help. But his buddy’s too busy pissing himself to be much use.

‘I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ the alpha stammers.

Wrong fucking answer.

I tighten my grip, lifting him until his feet dangle off the ground. ‘Don’t play dumb with me, you sack of shit. Now tell me where the fuck he is, or I’ll rip your fucking eye out.’

For emphasis, I tear my eyepatch off.

He pukes. I flinch, then snarl and slam him against the wall to punish him for it.

A flash of movement in my peripheral vision is all the warning I get. I release the still vomiting alpha with one hand, pivoting to catch the beta’s wrist just as he lunges at me with a knife.

Fucking amateurs.

I twist the beta’s arm, bending it at an unnatural angle until I hear the telltale creak of bone and ligament. The beta howls, squirming in my grip as tears stream down his face.

‘Stop! We’re at the old airport!’ the alpha splutters, lunging at me. I swing the beta up by his arm and slam him into the alpha like a mace. They both crash to the ground, the alpha landing on top of him.

Hope both of them are covered in puke now.

‘What did you say about the old airport?’ I growl, cocking my gun at them as they both groan.

The stabby little fucker lifts his head blearily, blinking up at me like he’s staring into the sun. ‘Holy fuck, your eye⁠—’

I snarl and fire a bullet into the dirt in front of him.

‘It’s where we are!’ the alpha yells. ‘Nikolai took the tower. The… the control tower. You know, the one that looks like a UFO on a pillar, the⁠—’

‘I know what a goddamn air traffic control tower is,’ I snap. ‘And what the fuck are you doing in my market?’

‘Looking for dildos!’ the beta blurts out.

I just stare at them.

For once, I’m at an absolute loss for words.

And for a moment, I’m tempted to finish them both off. They’re Nikolai’s goons. They don’t deserve to lick the dirt off my boots.

But I’ve got what I need.

‘Get the fuck out of my market,’ I snarl, sticking my gun back in its holster. ‘And tell your boss if I catch any more of his minions sniffing around here, I’ll send them back to him in pieces.’

They both scramble to their feet and take off without another damn word. I watch them go, my jaw clenched so tight it aches.

I can’t believe that arrogant prick had the balls to let his lackeys come here. Hell, he may have even sent them.

To my turf.

After everything that’s happened.

But then, Nikolai’s never been one for subtlety.

Or respecting territory and boundaries.

I need to move. Need to get to that airport before Raven does something even more monumentally stupid than usual.

Which, knowing him, could be any minute now.

‘Hold on, kid. I’m coming,’ I growl as I storm toward the hangar where I keep all my best shit.

Whether you like it or not.