Reclaimed by Her Alphas

Claire picked up a piece of orange candy from one of the large open cauldrons and unwrapped it. She should have had more self-control, but who could blame her?

Setting up the party had taken hours—hell, weeks of planning—and she’d had nothing but copious amounts of coffee since the night before. It meant the Halloween candy posed more temptation than she could resist.

Besides, her diet could start on Monday.

Or, start again, as was the theme of Mondays. She sighed as she looked at it before popping it into her mouth.

It had been easier to lose weight when she had been in her twenties, before having a kid. She recalled her mother complaining about the same thing, when Claire had rolled her eyes because she hadn’t believed it. Karma had kicked her in the ass, because the stubborn weight refused to shed anymore, like an unwelcome squatter she just couldn’t get to leave. It meant she’d gone from wearing form-fitting clothes to loose shirts long enough to cover her ass.

“Everything turned out perfect.” Tiffany slid her arm through the crook of Claire’s, the younger omega dressed like a schoolgirl. She’d gone with a short plaid skirt, knee-high socks, and a shirt tied beneath her chest. She’d put her long blonde hair into pigtails, and Claire doubted Kieran would take to the outfit well.

Tiffany’s alphas were as possessive as any, but Kieran was by far the worst. Marshall would have laughed, and Kane would simply have castrated any man who looked at her, but Kieran? He’d take it up directly with the omega herself.

Claire moved past the costume—not my problem—and instead looked around the large house they’d leased for the get-together. The lights were turned low with plenty of horror decorations. The usual skulls and spiders adorned shelves and tables, and an assortment of colorful images were projected onto the large, flat walls. Graveyards, spooky forests—they had it all to set the mood. “Yeah, it’s come together pretty well. Hopefully people actually show up.”

“It’s a Halloween party. Why wouldn’t anyone show up?”

“Because we’re all busy.” Claire thought about her own daughter, Amy, and how life passed so quickly. The things that had seemed important just a year before had drifted out of reach. She didn’t see the other omegas as much as she wanted to.

Not that she blamed them.

Tiffany was trying to conceive, Tracy was busy with her daughter, Alison was pregnant with twins, Ashley worked for her mate’s company and Kara was…well, Kara. They all had busy lives and mates of their own to keep them occupied.

Claire hadn’t expected that when she’d gotten pregnant things would change so much, that she’d be so isolated. Maybe that was the big secret—no one realized just how much they’d lose when they had kids.

“That’s exactly why we needed this,” Tiffany said. “Because no one slows down enough. We just keep saying we’ll get together, and before we know it, months have passed, and I haven’t even seen you.”

Claire paused in front of one of the snack tables, taking a moment to straighten the plates. All the food was decorated on point for the theme—meatballs with pretzel legs for spiders, a skull-shaped bread bowl full of a spaghetti dip. None of it was appetizing for Claire, but it set the mood she’d wanted. If she were going to throw a Halloween party, it would damn well be festive.

“Is Marshall coming?” she asked to change the subject.

Show Me Something Good

Kit Howard was having a shitty Saturday. Which, when she stopped to think about it, wasn’t surprising. The week leading up to it could best be described as ‘hellish’, so why should today be any different?

It had started out fine—hopeful, even. She’d slept late, a rare treat, and by the time she’d arrived at her favorite coffee shop, the morning rush had ended. She’d snagged the best booth by the window, and with a mocha latte and a cinnamon roll dripping with icing, had settled in to work.

Updating her résumé hadn’t taken long—she’d distilled the last two years of ten-hour days and ‘other duties as needed’ into one short paragraph and a handful of bullet points designed to entice future employers into hiring her. She had an enthusiastic, if somewhat floridly worded, recommendation from her previous boss, which would normally give her a solid leg up in her quest for fresh employment. But since he’d dictated the recommendation to his lawyer from the jail cell where he sat awaiting arraignment on twenty-three counts of embezzlement, tax fraud, and insider trading, she wasn’t counting on it.

Still, since it was his fault she was out of a job, it was the least he could do.

The investigators who had descended on the office on Monday morning had confiscated her phone, laptop, and everything in her desk drawer—ignoring her protest that her favorite lipstick and her extra pair of stockings were unrelated to illegal stock tips. Human resources had handed out pink slips to all staff members who had reported directly to the soon to be indicted CFO before the end of the day, cleaning house in an effort to prove to their stockholders that they were on top of the situation, and she’d spent the rest of the week with investigators, answering questions about her boss, his habits, and every single person she’d ever seen go into his office.

They’d done it partly to be thorough—they must have put every piece of paper, email, and financial transaction from the last ten years in front of her over the course of those five days—and partially as cover. None of her co-workers knew she was the one who’d blown the whistle on Arthur and his felonious activities, and she was keen to keep it that way. It would come out eventually, but hopefully by then the world would have moved on to bigger, uglier scandals.

After a week of sitting in a windowless room with investigators and her older brother the lawyer, whose pugnacious and confrontational nature was finally doing her some good, they’d thanked her for her help and returned her lipstick and stockings. Her phone and her laptop were still considered evidence, since she’d used both for work, so she was using her mom’s old phone and her sister’s old laptop until she could buy new ones.

She could only be grateful that she’d had the forethought to restrict her porn consumption to her personal tablet.

Still, she needed both a phone and a computer, and wouldn’t be able to afford to replace either until she got a new job.

She’d worked her way through a half dozen listings—all of them below her previous salary—when she realized she was out of coffee. She glanced up to hail a server and noticed with dismay that the café had filled up. She waited, hopeful one of the two servers bustling about would see her raised hand, but when neither of them acknowledged her after a few minutes, she scooped up her empty cup. Despite the crowd, there was only one person waiting at the takeout counter, so she draped her coat over her laptop and slid out of the booth.

She stood in line, shivering a little when the door opened behind her with a jangle of bells and a gust of frigid air. The café was loud, canned holiday music mixing with the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes, so when she stepped up to the counter, she had to raise her voice to give her order. She stepped aside to make room for the person behind her, and let her mind wander while she waited.

Under His Dominance

Arianell threw Courtney a look of exasperation. Her roommate’s pleas were finally wearing her down.

“Please come and just check the house out,” Courtney implored. “Then you can decide if you want to come with me to the Halloween party.”

Ari sighed. Courtney had been pleading with her for the better part of an hour, coaxing her with all sorts of perceived temptations in order for her to acquiesce.

“I’ve volunteered to check the liquor supply. You can come with me, then you’ll see what effort Mr. Lord goes to every year and how much fun the party will be. You know, invitations to his Halloween celebration are coveted by everyone who is anyone in Sydney. I’m lucky that he always invites his employees.” Courtney gave her a serious look. “Besides, Ari, you need to get out. You keep yourself cooped up at home all the time.”

It’s okay for Courtney, Ari thought with a mild sense of disgruntlement. She was confident and beautiful, and people didn’t stare at her like they did at Ari. Her albinism had always singled her out as different. Her pale skin, silver-white hair and violet eyes were striking in a way that Ari hated. People would stop her in the street. Complete strangers would grasp her arm and ask her if she wore contacts to make her eyes that color. Ari would always mumble that it was a refraction of the light that gave her irises the purplish hue, but she had to admit that she’d never seen them any other color. It was only the intensity that seemed to vary. Her hair was the other thing that people commented on, asking her if it was naturally a pale silver-white color or what hairstylist she used.

Her shy and retiring nature didn’t allow her to brush off the gawking stares of strangers. She was just left feeling awkward and exposed. And her time at school hadn’t helped build her confidence. Being called ‘ghost girl’ for most of her formative years had made her more self-conscious of her condition. It didn’t matter that her mother and Courtney constantly told her how beautiful and unique she looked. Or that her mother claimed it was envy that made the girls at school call her names. She didn’t want to be different or exotic. She’d much prefer to blend into the background.

Her editing and freelance writing jobs meant she worked largely from home. It also meant that often, the only person she came into contact with for weeks on end was her roommate. Ari knew Courtney was right. She had to get out more or be in danger of turning into an agoraphobic hermit. Besides, Halloween was the one day of the year where she didn’t feel like she was different. In a Halloween costume, she looked just like everyone else.

“I’ll come and help,” she finally conceded. “Then I’ll decide about attending the party.”

Courtney jumped up and threw her arms around Ari’s neck. “We’ll leave tomorrow around lunch. I’m not working the afternoon shift because we’ll be at Mr. Lord’s house.”

“Hasn’t he hired a company to do all of this?”

“For the most part. I’m just checking a few things. And I get out of working a shift and still get paid.”

Ari laughed. It was just like Courtney to find a way to insert herself into the running of things. Ari didn’t know much about Barrett Lord other than that he owned dozens of clubs around the world, some of which catered to various fetishes, and that he was obscenely wealthy. Also, she got the impression that the man intimidated Courtney, which made him all the more intriguing. Any man who could strike awe into her brave and confident friend was interesting, to say the least. Intrigue aside, she found herself hoping she didn’t get to meet the man in question. If he was capable of daunting Courtney, he’d be downright terrifying to Ari herself.