His Forbidden Omega

Chapter 6

Lyra's POV

I was no stranger to back-breaking work or keeping my mouth shut. And when you're a stranger at a new place, these come in handy.

“I'll be right on it, Ma’am,” I said, and clenched the rag with determination.

Things could be better, but still–Lunaris was my chance for a fresh start.

“I'd better just find a speck of dust lying around outside or else you'll pay for it,”

The rag that was already on the counter froze momentarily,

Outsider, huh? Already excluding me from the start.

Still, beggars can't be choosers, I tugged at the corners of my lips till they curved into a realistic smile.

“Of course, Ma'am,”

“It's Madam Beatrice, this is what you'll be doing…” She outlined my responsibilities, then snapped, “Why are you just gawking at me? Get to work!”

Clawfire tavern- the name of the bar-was well patronized. No surprise there, it was co-owned by the Alpha and had ‘entertainment’ for its guests

Now, because the flow of customers was strong and steady, which means I hardly had a moment to myself.

On the positive side, it pushed thoughts of the medallions to the corner of my mind.

Still, every so often, I'd sense its weight. Its presence reminded me that I had dared to steal from a man who was said to chew his enemies' bones for breakfast.

“Give me another shot!” A customer who was already plastered hissed at me.

He looked middle-aged while simultaneously acting like a toddler.

“Sir, I'm sorry I can't keep serving. He grabbed me by my collar, dragged me close enough to drown in his breath that was an appalling mix of onion rings and alcohol.

“I didn't ask for your opinion! Now pour me another shot!” His spittle rained on my face as he roared at me.

Then he shoved me back, I lost my balance, and what followed next were sounds of bottle shattering, some of the stray shards homed in my legs and arms.

My heart thumped as this yanked me right back to that night, when I saw Selena's hand interlaced with Aiden, a wedding ring gleaming on her finger, which made me subconsciously shatter the glass in my hand.

Madam Beatrice showed up.

And to put it lightly, she did not look happy.

I would have to pay for every last drop that was wasted. Which means I'll only be paid 30% of my original salary every month.

Nothing was said to the customer who had pushed me, well, other than the promise that he would get his shot.

The laughter in the background scratched my ears like knives as I grabbed a mop to clean up the mess, my left hand and right leg trickling with blood.

“Make sure you clean that up before you serve the customers,” was the only acknowledgment Beatrice gave my wounds.

I closed my eyelids, tightened my hold on the mop stick, and remembered someone who had cared for my wounds.

What would he say if he were here right now?

Would he take care of me the way he did that night?

My cheeks flushed as my mind drifted to his firm, masculine body. He was even more fit than Aiden.

Why am I even thinking that I should get to work?

I was counting down the seconds for me to clock out when Beatrice bounced in front of me without warning and said,

“By the way, we need someone to work overtime. She gave me a pointed look that told me I was the chosen ‘someone’

But I was halfway to breaking down completely.

“Madam Beatrice, can someone just cover for me…Just for today I'll–”

My lips stopped moving abruptly as her gaze heated up with hostility. I gulped. Of course, she wasn't asking; she was demanding.

And I had already agreed to work no matter my health disposition.

“Sure, Madam Beatrice,” I said through clenched teeth.

The further into the night we went, the more obnoxious the customers became.

Some were leering at me, throwing unsolicited flirtatious comments. I was polite but cold.

Many of them didn't like this.

“She's not even that pretty,” one of them said to his friend and shot me a dirty look from his table, “an Omega with no pack having standards, what a joke!”

I closed my eyes, tucking my lips in as I bit them to bury my words.

Towards the end of the night, Alpha Corvin showed up, and I noticed even before I captured his scent between an overwhelming sandwich of sweat and booze. The whole place that had been loud and rowdy a moment before it fell into an eerie silence.

His aura was vastly different from Alpha Kael's.

With my former mate's father, there was something that drew you to respect him, and it was that respect that made bowing to him natural.

But Alpha Corvin didn't look like the type to yearn for respect; rather, he sought to evoke bone-chilling fear.

“Water,” he said simply, sliding into the barstool.

The shock of seeing him stunned me for a second, but he sharpened his gaze and snapped me right into action.

In the blink of an eye, a glass was placed before him.

But something told me he didn't come here just because of a glass of water.

Unfortunately, I was right.

Madame Beatrice, who had gone to check on the supplies and the back, came out and made a beeline for Alpha Corvin.

“Alpha, you're here–” she sounded so relieved, then dived into her anecdote, of course spiced and twisted to paint me in the worst possible light.

By the time she was done, Alpha Corvin’s glass was drained, and a decision was made.

I would only receive 10% of my salary every month, and then there would also be an interest to be paid for all the bottles I destroyed.

“Do you understand?” He said to me,

I bowed to hide my tears.

“I do, Alpha Corvin.”

But as I bowed, my fingers brushed against the medallion hidden beneath my clothes and for the first time, it pulsed with a heat that hints that my suffering was only the beginning.