Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 1 (Early Access) (Patreon)

The doorstep of Quinn’s small suburban home never received visitors. The only people to stand on it since he had claimed the keys to the residence were himself and the postman. He stared down at the cluster of people gathered in front of his door now, hoping to radiate enough ‘fuck off’ energy that they would scurry away.

Quinn had no interest in the world of werewolves anymore. He was not a part of their little community. And yet, he didn’t need to be a member of the fanclub to tell that two of the three strangers were representatives of the highest werewolf power. He knew an Assembly uniform when he saw one, down to the super special sparkly pin badge they probably spent all night polishing.

The third, an omega. Trembling from head to toe and clutching a children’s wheelie suitcase to his body. Its length wasn’t that much less than his own. A young man, not a child, but Quinn didn't judge people based on their luggage choices. A ratty, burnt orange corduroy jacket hung to his knees. The sleeves had been rolled back on themselves so many times they appeared stiff.

“We have something most important to discuss with you,” crooned the man closest to him. His jumpy eyes were gesturing into the house. Quinn glared at him, silently weighing up the consequences for slamming the door in their faces. He sighed. It wasn’t just the uniform he knew, but the Assembly’s power, too. Regardless of his feelings or affiliations, it wasn’t wise to cross them unless absolutely necessary.

Quinn didn’t need his neighbours seeing this exchange, but stepping back to allow the trio into his home, his safe haven, almost physically hurt.

“What do you want?” He growled as soon as the front door was closed.

The two Assembly men stood in the centre of his living room, snooping around with soft sniffs and lingering leers at his belongings. A pair of nosey vultures. At their side, the omega was a stiff plank of plywood in the wind. His muscles were locked, but it meant the trembles wracked his whole body like he was being shaken. Quinn fought the urge to roll him up like a burrito in a throw blanket and clutch him until the shakes stopped, it seemed like the only logical way to help. Instead, he forced himself to look away.

“Do you have somewhere the omega can wait while we talk?” asked the slightly taller man. He somehow appeared both scrubbed within an inch of his life and greasy at the same time.

Quinn gave him a scalding look. He didn’t intend to give them enough time out of his day to have a full conversation, he wanted them away from his property as soon as possible.

The omega didn’t react in any way to being discussed as though he were a pet. He was still clutching his brightly-coloured suitcase like a life preserver. It was only for his sake that Quinn hadn't started cursing and shouting the moment the front door was shut. He may not adhere to wolf hierarchies anymore, but there still seemed to be something sacred about omegas. An innocence that should be preserved.

“The kitchen is through there,” Quinn grunted.

The smaller man, who had a fatherly air of quiet concern to him, patted the omega on the back gently before walking him into the kitchen. His movements were jerky, and his suitcase never lowered.

“We are sorry to disturb you, Alpha Quinn,” the concerned-looking man said quietly as he returned to them.

The tall greasy one didn’t appear even slightly sorry.

“My name is Isaac, this is my colleague Graham, and I’m sure you can already tell where we are calling from.”

“The Assembly,” Quinn said dully. He didn’t offer them a seat on his sofa. Instead, he took a step closer and folded his arms over his chest.

Isaac nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

Graham beamed with pride. His chest puffing a little more. "We are representatives of the order of-"

“Get to the point,” Quinn snapped. “What do you want from me?”

The men looked at each other for a beat. It confirmed what Quinn had been expecting: he was not going to like whatever mission they were on.

“You have been assigned that omega,” Graham answered. His eyes were alight with a callous glee.

Quinn blanched. “Assigned?”

“You understand that all packs can only house one alpha, one omega and two betas?”

“I didn’t lose my memory when I left my pack,” Quinn sneered. A ridiculous diamond-shaped order of power. Alphas at the top point, their betas just below, and the omegas at the very bottom of the pile. No matter how hard you worked or what good you did in your life, you were permanently constrained to your place in the pack.

“Well," Graham drew out the word cruelly. "All the packs in the county already have an omega.”

“You’re going to separate him from his family?”

“He doesn’t have any.” In the silence after his words, Quinn felt the addition of just like you. Of course, the Assembly knew his full history - they wrote the file on it. Then they placed him in the pack he left. "But if he did, it wouldn't matter, the packs are full for their omega quotient."

Barbaric. Quinn wanted to spit the word at them. Instead he shook his head in disbelief. It didn't matter who your real family was, it only mattered that you fit their structure.

“I’m not affiliated with any pack and I don’t have room to take in a foster puppy," he said.

Greasy Graham was grinning again. “Everyone needs to do their part at times like this.”

“I don’t owe the Assembly anything.”

“This is not about favours… or punishments.”

Quinn raised a brow and felt his biceps bunch against the cross of his arms. “You’re threatening me?”

Isaac had become withdrawn, letting the shinier member of their duo continue to dribble out bullshit from fish-like lips. “That was not a threat. I would take it as a reminder of the Assembly’s… reach.”

Quinn felt his eyes and nostrils flare before he could restrain himself. “I’m pretty sure the Assembly has no jurisdiction over this area. In fact, I’m certain they don’t because that’s why I moved here.” His voice had become a low growl. Quiet but violent, still taking into account the small wolf shivering in his kitchen just one door away.

“All wolves fall under Assembly jurisdiction, regardless of location.” The words were as slimy as the speaker. "All packs are sworn to the assembly, and anything else is classified as a gang of criminals. Which would you call yourself, Alpha Quinn?"

“This is not a pack. It’s just me.”

“How lucky for you, then, that an alpha is all you need to start a pack.”

“This. Isn’t. A. Pack. House,” Quinn snarled.

“A. House. Is. A. House,” Greasy Graham replied. “And that’s all it needs.”

“The omega needs a home,” Isaac cut in. His eyes were desperate, they cut straight through Quinn's chest. The bond between wolves opening despite his resistance. Forcing him to share the man’s pain, a pain he had also taken on from someone else. Quinn hoped it wasn't the little one in his kitchen.

He sighed, and on the out breath he was able to forcibly break the connection between them. It was weak and brittle anyway, that of a stranger. “How long?”

Isaac blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How long does he need to stay?”

Graham laughed haughtily. “There is nowhere else for him to move on to, Alpha. This is a permanent arrangement.”

Quinn gritted his teeth against a groan. “I’m. Not. Building. A. Pack.”

The slimy representative mimicked his tone again. “You. Tell. Him. That.”

Simultaneously, the trio looked to the closed kitchen door.

“What’s his name again?”

The men answered over the top of each other.

“Just call him Omega.”

“Remi, Alpha.”

Quinn nodded to himself. A hard lump was beginning to press between his rib cage before he had taken a single step away from them. He walked to the kitchen and pushed the door open, the Assembly’s dumb and dumbest hot on his heels.