Omega (Alpha & Omega #1)

{Chapter Thirty Five}

"You worthless piece of shit."

I stared up at my dad through widened eyes. In his hand, he held a stack of papers. They were held in a hard grip, the sides wrinkling with the pressure. His body shook with anger, like none I'd ever seen before.

"Daddy," I asked.

"Don't you fucking call me that." He sneered. "You are no child of mine."

I flinched at the words, even though my thirteen year old self wasn't sure what that even meant. Of course I was my father's daughter. I looked like him. I had some of his features. Mom always said I looked more like him than her, so obviously I had to be his.

When I didn't respond, he threw the papers at me. The stack slapped me in the face before fluttering to the ground and I stood there, stunned at the sudden anger of my father. My hands flew up to try and catch the papers, but I only succeeded in grabbing one.

I held it up.

-breeding purposes. To prepare your omega for breeding, keep in mind the typical age of breeders is between the ages of fifteen and thirty. Anything younger or older...

I blinked a few times at the pages, then looked up at my dad, who stared down at me with so much rage that I almost flinched back again.

"Why do you have papers on omegas," I asked. I laughed, unknowing.

His eyes flicked down to another piece of paper on the floor, then back at me. He wasn't talking to me, but the moment I looked down to that piece of paper, the one I held fell to the floor.

Phoenix Artemis Rose - Omega

I stared at it for, what seemed like, an eternity.

"That's," I tried. I shook my head and looked back up at my dad. "I can't be an omega, daddy. Maybe the tests are wrong. Maybe they-"

The pain didn't register right away. My head whipped to the side and my hand went up to my cheek instinctively. Once cold flesh met hot, wounded flesh, I felt the pain then. And the moment I felt the pain, I felt the blood start to dribble out of my nose.

I turned my face back to my dad.

There was no remorse on his face whatsoever for slapping his daughter. None. Actually, he looked like he wanted to do it again, but with a closed fists. Multiple times.

He hated omegas. He taught me to hate omegas, to order omegas around and treat them like the dirt they were. They were nothing to the human race except slaves and the women were nothing more to betas and alphas than those who spread their legs and took in a man's seed to attempt to populate the world with more betas.

I'd seen him attack the omegas in our house on countless occasions, beating them into unconsciousness. I'd always stood back and watched, ever since I could register what he was actually doing to them. I'd been taught at such a young age that omegas were to be treated like shit, and any other alpha who didn't think that way deserved to be treated like the omegas.

"You're just like the other worthless shits in this place," he hissed, his fist wrapping in my shirt. He lifted me up off of the ground and shook me violently before throwing me to the ground.

I rolled onto my hands and knees. "Daddy, I didn't-"

"No," he said. "Don't you ever call me that again."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the toe of his boot slammed hard against the side of my head, sending me flying to the side. The harsh cry of pain from my mouth did nothing to my dad. Nothing at all. He just walked towards me, fully intent on kicking me again.

Blood dribbled out of my mouth and I spit it out onto the floor. My father never once hit me before.

My mother slammed the door open and seemed to register everything at once - my father, closed-fisted, walking towards me, on the floor with blood dripping out of my mouth and nose.

"Phoenix."

The voice didn't fit the memory. It was too calm, too comforting to be either my mother or father's. And I knew that wasn't what happened next. What happened next was more blows to my face and abdomen before my mother somehow pulled my father off of me. Not this voice.

"Phoenix?"

My eyes flew open and I sat up, breathing in so hard that I began coughing. The phantom pains were still there, my face throbbing.

I looked up, expecting my father but seeing Cayson. I searched his entire face, the worry in his eyes, the slight crinkle to his brow. He was so close, but thankfully I'd missed hitting him when I sat up.

I ran my hands over my face and bowed my head, breathing through the memories. I'd never dreamt about them before, because other memories were ingrained into my head. Worse. More painful. But that day was the day my father turned on me. Confused the shit out of me.

For years after that I wondered if the tests were wrong. Kept trying to ask him to get them to retake it. That I had to be a beta, at least, and they switched my charts.

He never once did as I asked. He either told me to shut up, or shut me up with force. If I cried, it was worse.

I wasn't worth anything to him the moment he opened the package telling him exactly what I was.

"Phoenix." Cayson again. He placed his hand gently on my shoulder. "Hey, come back to me."

I turned my face to look at him.

"Nightmare?" A small, concerned smile. He sat down on the bed and turned to face me, reaching out and running fingers through my hair.

I nodded slowly, never once drawing my eyes away from him.

He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on my forehead. It lingered there for a few seconds before he pulled away.

"Do you want to talk about it," he asked, tilting his head and searching my eyes for...for what?

I shook my head.

"You know you can tell me anything," he whispered, "don't you? That you can come to me or Keon and tell us whatever is on your mind. You don't have to go through whatever it is alone."

I lifted my hands and stopped his caress halfway through my hair. I turned my face and kissed his palm, then turned it the other way and kissed his other palm, never once looking away from his eyes.

Of course I could go to them for anything. They'd bend over backwards just to make me smile.

He smiled gently. "We are having a guest over and you need to be there to greet him. He wants to speak with you specifically."

I wanted to ask who it was, but the words caught in my throat and I only nodded.

I got dressed and went downstairs, palming my still-aching cheek. The phantom pains were so real.

Keon glanced over at me from the doorway and opened his mouth to say something, when the doorbell rang. He closed his mouth and stepped back, motioning for me to answer the door.

So I did.

I walked over, grabbed the cold metal of the door knob, and opened it.

The man on the other side stared down at me, hands loose at his sides. But for the first time in a long time, those eyes didn't hold hatred or resentment.

Even so, I took a step away from him, then another. He took it as an invitation to come in, when all I wanted to do was slam the door in his face.

But I couldn't do that.

Not to daddy dearest.