The Omega Rescue Series by Kian Rhodes

5% of royalties received from the sale of Buyer Beware are donated to The Trevor Project; the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24... more5% of royalties received from the sale of Buyer Beware are donated to The Trevor Project; the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24. How many Omegas can say they were rescued BY a kidnapping ring before they were rescued FROM it? Thane was an Omega with a very dark secret trying to break free from an unpleasant past when he was hired as a paralegal in the local shifter law firm. Alpha Haldrian Christof, Drey to his friends, was one of the few local attorneys specialing in shifter law. His first attempt at claiming an Omega, a visit to the Omega auction, had ultimately failed. That didn't stop him from falling for his new paralegal, a kidnapping victim with soft blond curls and entrancing blue eyes. When Thane's past catches up with him, will Drey be able to protect him or will his Omega be deemed unlawfully claimed? The Omega Rescue series tells the stories of Omegas who were rescued in The Omega Auction: Book Two Buyer Beware. less

(Excerpt from The Omega Rescue: Book One Unlawfully Claimed) “W-what’s it l-l-like?” Spencer asked, his black eyes wide. “It’s great.” Thane smiled at the small Omega. “We need to find all of you your perfect match.” He grinned broadly at me. “I-I-I don’t think there’s an Alpha for me.” Spencer shook his head, a tenuous smile on his face. “I-I better keep l-l-looking for a job.” Spencer’s story begins…... more(Excerpt from The Omega Rescue: Book One Unlawfully Claimed) “W-what’s it l-l-like?” Spencer asked, his black eyes wide. “It’s great.” Thane smiled at the small Omega. “We need to find all of you your perfect match.” He grinned broadly at me. “I-I-I don’t think there’s an Alpha for me.” Spencer shook his head, a tenuous smile on his face. “I-I better keep l-l-looking for a job.” Spencer’s story begins…. Max had begun trying to sell me off as breeding stock almost immediately after taking control and was willing to foist me off on anyone who even sniffed in my direction. To his ongoing irritation, as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, all interested parties had turned tail and run. One particularly unkind Alpha had paused in his flight long enough to compare conversing with me to a battery acid mange dip - and then gone on to tell Max that he would prefer the dip. Unable to send me to the Omega auction – they wouldn't accept faulty merchandise – Max had found an alternative that in his mind solved all of our problems. It got me off the pack's teat and found me a home - of sorts. The fact that it meant me agreeing to go into service as a prostitute didn't seem to bother him at all. That was what had brought him to our shanty that evening. If I couldn't find a mate in the next week, I’d be shipped off to Howling Hank's Whore House. Classy name, huh? Somehow Max must have gotten wind of our plan to thwart him because while Mom was at work the next day, he came to visit me. He wasn’t alone. "Spencer?” The stranger greeted me, holding his hand out. "I'm Jack.” I nodded and tried to make my split lip pull up into a smile, wondering if Max had found another Alpha for me to try to impress. I scented the air, but I didn't smell Alpha. In fact, I didn’t smell anything. I shook his hand and jerked back at a sharp pain in my wrist. I didn't even have time to question what had happened before the room began to spin. Then, everything went dark. less

I stood at the end of the gravel drive that wound through the dirt patch. The parched soil was cracked and barren, with only the occasional overly-ambitious weed poking through to add a touch of color. “Council of Packs Veteran’s Rehabilitation Center,” I read aloud from the weathered wooden sign hanging precariously over the sterile stainless steel doors in front of me. Without that sign, the anonymous gray concrete block walls could have shrouded any establishment... moreI stood at the end of the gravel drive that wound through the dirt patch. The parched soil was cracked and barren, with only the occasional overly-ambitious weed poking through to add a touch of color. “Council of Packs Veteran’s Rehabilitation Center,” I read aloud from the weathered wooden sign hanging precariously over the sterile stainless steel doors in front of me. Without that sign, the anonymous gray concrete block walls could have shrouded any establishment. The metallic click of the magnetic lock releasing broke the evening silence as the door hitched, swinging open a few inches in response to the buzzer I had pressed. I took several steps inside, stopping at the semi-circular reception desk that sat awkwardly in the center of the hallway. “Can I help you?” A bored-looking redhead – human, from her scent – stared past me as she asked. “Um, yeah, I mean, yes, please,” I stuttered out. “I’m here for your outreach program.” “My what?” She raised a brow and popped her gum. “The outreach program for injured Veterans?” I swallowed a sigh. “There was a sign-up sheet in the psychology department at the community college?” Red shrugged disinterestedly and continued to stare at me. “Do you have a contact name?” “No.” I thrust the printed copy of the email confirmation I’d been clutching in my hand toward her. “This is all I received.” She glanced at the paper I held out without taking it from me and shrugged again. “Is there someone that you could ask?” Red huffed out a sigh of exaggerated annoyance. “Just a minute.” She dialed an extension on the phone in front of her and mumbled into it before hanging up and turning to face me again. “Craig will be out in a minute.” She turned away again, and I took a step back from the desk to wait. It wasn’t long, a matter of minutes really, before I was staring up at the most beautiful Alpha that I’d ever seen, unable to remember my own name. “You’re here for the Wounded Veterans outreach program?” His deep green eyes skimmed over a paper on the clipboard he held in one large hand. “What’s your name?” I stared, unable to pull my gaze from his plump lips. “Son?” His deep baritone voice pulled me out of my stupor. “Are you okay?” “Yeah…I mean, yes, Alpha, I’m fine,” I stumbled over my words. “Okay, then.” His eyes rose to mine from the paper. “What’s your name?” I continued to stare, aware that he had asked me a question but not quite able to remember the words to answer it. “Are you sure you’re here for this program?” His velvety voice held a touch of irritation. I nodded, my head jerking like a marionette on a string, but my mouth refused to work. “Look, kid,” he spoke, his voice firm but not unkind. “If you can’t talk to an Alpha, then this program isn’t a good fit for you.” He placed his palm gently on my shoulder and turned me back to face the door. “Why don’t you go home and have your daddy help you find a better fit for your comfort level? I know there are several programs where you can interact with Betas and Omegas.” He patted me once before turning away. “Good luck.” And just like that, the Alpha of my dreams walked out of my life. less

Levi Objectively, Zade was a great catch. He was funny, good-hearted, gentle, affectionate, and very, very attractive – everything that Lee said he was. But he was still an Alpha. So, in other words, he was absolutely not for me. "It's just that I don't want to be claimed. I don't want to belong to an Alpha." Zade frowned at me. "But you're an Omega." I nodded, entirely too used to having this conversation. Omegas only wanted one thing out of life; a claim... moreLevi Objectively, Zade was a great catch. He was funny, good-hearted, gentle, affectionate, and very, very attractive – everything that Lee said he was. But he was still an Alpha. So, in other words, he was absolutely not for me. "It's just that I don't want to be claimed. I don't want to belong to an Alpha." Zade frowned at me. "But you're an Omega." I nodded, entirely too used to having this conversation. Omegas only wanted one thing out of life; a claim. Except, like with most generalizations, it wasn't necessarily true. "I am," I agreed, "but I don't want to be claimed by an Alpha." "Why not?" Oh. Well, that was a new twist in the old plotline. I was used to everyone I told steamrolling over my wishes, telling me I was confused, laughing it off as a tease or fear that I wouldn't measure up. Even the Coruscation Omega - sweet, supportive Trevor - had stared at me like I was a crossword puzzle clue in an unknown language before quietly assuring me that I would never be forced into a claim. I couldn't remember anyone ever asking why. Zade From the time I first set eyes on Levi riding up to my house on the back of a Blood Valley Beta’s motorcycle, I’d known he was meant to be mine. So, when I agreed not to continue pursuing a claim on Levi, I saw it as a temporary agreement that would allow him to get to know me. After all, I might be a little impulsive in non-life-threatening situations, but I’m a good guy. And a good catch. Or so I’ve been told. When Levi had rebuffed my suggestion that we could play chess together, I’d managed to hold my wince in. In all fairness, he couldn’t have known that I played, and I was stuffing candy in my mouth with one hand and tossing my lucky fetch ball in my other – I couldn’t exactly dispute that I looked nothing like a grandmaster should. Unable to use the one thing that I now knew we had in common without looking like a pouty twat, I set my mind to the next challenge. Game on. Pawn to a4. less