In Doubt, page 1
IN DOUBT
HANNAH HAZE
Copyright © 2022 by Hannah Haze
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Front covered designed by EVE Graphic Design LLC
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
36. A Guide to Hannah’s Omegaverse
About the Author
Also by Hannah Haze
FOREWORD
You say tomato and I say tomato
Firstly, an apology to all the historians, archeologists and Egyptologists out there for corrupting your perfectly respectable and serious field of work. But, hey, this is an omegaverse romance story in a fictional world! I may have bent the rules of good historical research a little in the name of love! Please forgive me!
And yes, I know I should have called this book In Denial (In De-Nile) but sometimes these ideas come too late!
I’m a British writer and use British English spelling and grammar. If you do spot any typos in this book, please drop me a line so I can make it right: hannahhazewrites@gmail.com (Or just drop me an email anyway. I love to chat!).
You can find a guide to my omegaverse at the end of this book. If you’re new to omegaverse, you may want to take a look.
This book is a sweeter 'why choose' (reverse harem) omegaverse with one omega and a pack of alphas. Two of the male alphas are engaged in a longstanding emotional and physical relationship. The main female character has experienced an abusive relationship in the past. For more detailed content warnings, please visit my website.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A big thank you to everyone who has helped me with this book! As usual there were many.
Thanks you Caitlin for alpha reading this book and for all your great suggestions, and to my amazing beta readers Deanna, Melissa and Linky for helping me to whip this story into shape.
MaryAnn - you are a star with an incredible eye for spotting a typo.
Thanks to Mr D and Stephy for holding my hand whenever the self-doubt creeps in and for your continued love and encouragement.
And finally, a huge thank you to all my incredible readers for reading and loving these stories. You voted for Giorgie's story, here you go …
Enjoy ❤️
PROLOGUE
Giorgie
The floorboards creak and my footsteps ring out as I trot down the steps in the draughty lecture theatre and halt by the front row.
Mellow autumn light drifts through the high windows that run below the ceiling and illuminates the chalk dust that hangs in the air. The huge blackboard that lines the back wall has been scrubbed clean and the projector screen remains coiled up on the ceiling, yet to be lowered. The lectern stands before the blackboard with one lone microphone and heavy ancient curtains wait in the corners to be yanked across the windows, plunging the hall into darkness.
It’s the first day of term and the hall smells of lemon cleaning fluids and dust. The usual intermingling of stale scents was scrubbed away at the end of the previous academic year.
I’m early. The first one here. Far too eager. But I’m excited and I can’t help being early when I’m excited.
I scoot my way along the wooden bench, hard against the back of my thighs, and lower myself onto a seat right in the centre.
I fish the brand new notepad out of my rucksack and stare at the front cover. My brother’s omega bought me this as a new term gift. Across the cover is a tangle of ivory white lilies, the tips of their petals a shocking pink and their sticky pollen a vibrant orange. I trace over the stems with my finger.
She’d be proud, my mum, Lily, and I wish she was here to see me. She always said I could be whatever I wanted to be. That nothing and no one could hold me back. I only had to dream it and believe it.
I fold over the cover and press my fingers down on the fold, creasing the pages open. Then I flick the nub of my pen down and write across the top.
Masters in Archeology.
The letters make me grin. To my surprise, I’d passed my exams with flying colours, with actual merits, and a place on the masters course had been offered to me without having to apply. I’d accepted with enthusiasm and disbelief.
Maybe my mum was right.
I dream of being an archeologist. Of uncovering the secrets and mysteries that lie in our pasts. I dream of digging my fingers into the cold, damp soil and drawing back the layers of time, discovering treasures that lie forgotten.
It had seemed like an impossible dream for the last three years of my course. I knew the reality. Most of us archaeology undergraduates would end up as history teachers, accountants, or librarians. Very few would land their dream job in our field.
But now that dream seems as if it could be within reach. Whoever finishes top of this Masters class will be offered a PhD placement with Professor Weaver.
And Professor Weaver is my hero. An inspiring teacher and a groundbreaking archeologist. She’s challenged the status quo. Changed our ways of thinking about the people of the past. Shown a woman can be as influential in this field as any of the men.
I add the date to the top of the page, then drum my fingers on the wooden ledge in front of me, watching as the hands spin slowly around the clock on the far wall.
Eventually, other people enter the theatre too, and the hall fills with the sound of chatter and the aroma of beta scents.
I’m the only omega. I was on the undergraduate course and I will be on this Masters course. There are few of us these days. Rare beings compared to our ancestors, and most omegas choose to go to one of the omega colleges that will help them find a suitable mate.
I’m not interested in that, not for the time being anyway.
With a few minutes to spare, my friends Sia and Carl arrive in the hall and I wave at them from the front, removing my bag and coat from the spaces I’d saved for them.
Sia squeezes me, as excited as I am, but we’ve no time to talk before the lights dim, the curtains draw, and the professor steps up to the lectern, ready to start the very first lecture.
I should be scribbling away and making notes, recording all the important points the professor is making, but I’m too entranced, too drawn in by all she has to say. I rest my elbow on the wooden ledge across my lap and lean my chin into my hands.
I’m sitting like this, listening enraptured, when something niggles at the back of my consciousness. I don’t register it at first, but it keeps on nudging me and nudging me until finally I jerk up straight.
A scent.
An alpha scent.
Like warm, freshly brewed coffee. Deep and rich. It makes my insides rumble. Sia glances at me and I offer her an apologetic smile, leaning back on the bench and trying my best to ignore the intriguing aroma.
It’s too tempting, though. As subtly as I can, I glance around the room, trying to pick out the owner. The hall is dark and the frames and faces of the other students are bathed in shadow.
It isn’t until the end of the lecture, when I’ve wriggled out along the bench, my bag on my shoulder, heading down to the lectern to say hello to the professor, that I meet the alpha.
Suddenly, his scent is stronger, so much stronger in my nose, and I halt as a large, unfamiliar man stalks towards me. He’s taller than me by a good foot at least, his frame broad and muscular, his entire presence domineering and intimidating. But his face … golden hair flops into his murky blue eyes as he grins at me with soft lips.
Instantly, my spine stiffens, my blood running cold in my veins.
The way he’s looking at me, predatory, self assured, as if he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s going to snare me in.
It’s familiar, so familiar.
I can feel my hands begin to shake, and I clutch them together in front of me.
“Omega,” he says, and the name makes me freeze. “I’m Jake.” He offers me his hand and I jolt. He’s shining the full beam of his alpha charm in my direction. It’s dazzling. He is beautiful.
And maybe if I was seventeen I’d have fallen for it, been fooled by the easy manner, the arrogance, the charm, and walked willingly straight into the waiting trap. Just like I had done. Just like I did with the man I thought loved me. The man now in prison.
But I’m not seventeen anymore. I’ve learned my lesson.
I know the dangers of an alpha like this.
“Mr Grantham!” the professor calls, and I jerk my head around to see her stepping down from the raised platform, a wide, welcoming smile on her face. “So glad to have such an outstanding student join us here at Crestmore.”
I peer up at the alpha as his piercing gaze swings from me to the professor and watch as he skips down the final steps and greets her, the conversation flowing between them easily. As I hang back, pretending to fiddle with the straps of my bag, I learn that he studied at Cambridge, came top of his year, and I shrink back clutching my bag to my chest.
But I don’t miss their words as I scurry away.
“You’ve got a rival for the top spot on this course, Mr Grantham. The research spot isn’t guaranteed to be yours.”
“It will be,” he says firmly, no doubt in his voice.
1
Giorgie
Rain drums on the windscreen as the wipers swish left and right, sloshing the water away. Beyond the window, the grey road is empty and the lush green fields running away towards the horizon are sopping wet.
I wriggle on my cardigan, shivering a little in the cool air, cursing another chilly June day and turning to peer out my passenger window. Tiny gullies of water run down the pane, smearing my view and blocking the road sign announcing the number of miles until the airport.
We’re sloshing through the puddles at speed. I’d usually berate my brother for it.
Not today. Today I’m keen to arrive. Yet even at the speed we’re hurtling, the journey takes ages.
I shuffle on my seat, tugging at the seat belt, flicking through the radio channels impatiently. Finally, I snatch off some jazzy song we can’t really hear over the beat of the wipers anyway and twist in my seat.
“You really didn’t have to drive me,” I say, grinning at him. We both know he did. He knows how much this trip means to me and how much I want him to see me off.
Ric snorts.
“You’ve packed your blockers?” Ric asks me for the one millionth time. I’m surprised he didn’t inspect my luggage before we left the house.
“Yes,” I answer. “And before you ask, I already took one today. There’s only one alpha going on this trip anyway, Ric, and trust me, he hates me as much as I hate him. Everyone else is a beta.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know who you might meet out there, and Egypt is a long fucking way to come and rescue your sorry arse.”
This time I snort. The archeological dig is literally in the middle of the desert. The nearest town is an hour’s drive away. Apart from the other archeologists – who are going to be more turned on by the bits of broken pottery they’re digging out of the ground than some omega girl – there won’t be anyone else around.
“I’m going to be fine,” I tell my brother, resting my hand over his on the steering wheel. “I’m not a baby anymore. I can look after myself.”
“I know you can, Giorgie,” he says softly, his eyes flicking from the road to mine for a moment. “It doesn’t mean I don’t worry. It doesn’t mean I won’t be wearing away the floor as I pace back and forth, waiting for you to return to Studworth.”
“It’s only two weeks! And you know it’s what I’ve been dreaming of since I was little.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m happy for you, Cucciola, and proud.”
My stomach warms at his compliment and I flop back against the leather seat of his sports car, grinning to myself in disbelief, and shaking my head a little. Ten days working on the archaeological site and then a mini tour of Egypt. I’m going to see the Pyramids. I could almost weep tears of joy.
Ric pulls off the motorway and weaves through the maze of roads that lead to the glass structure of the airport. Jets thunder over our heads, making the car vibrate, and I tip my head back and watch them soar up into the clouds.
Goodbye rain and hello sunshine.
My smile widens.
“Could you grin any harder?” Ric says, observing me with affection as he slides into a drop-off space outside Departures.
“Nope! My cheeks already ache.”
I hop out of the car and grab my bag from the boot, swinging my rucksack on my shoulder, and hurrying to Ric’s door before he’s climbs out of his seat.
“Bye then.” I reach up onto my toes to kiss his cheek as he stands up. “I’ll call you when I arrive.”
Ric grabs my arm.
“Slow down, Cucciola.” He glances at his watch. “We’re fifteen minutes early. I’ll walk you to the meeting point. Make sure everything’s in order. You remembered your passport?”
“Yes.” I laugh.
“Shame,” he mutters with mischief, and I elbow him in the ribs. Together, we walk through the sliding doors and into the busy terminal. I scan the cluster of check-in desks and coffee shops until we find the book store we’d been instructed to meet outside of.
We’re the first here.
“I told you we didn’t need to leave this early,” Ric says as we order a coffee each from a kiosk and go to stand outside the shop.
“I didn’t expect you to drive quite so fast.”
He winks at me and sips his coffee.
“You will call me,” I say, leaning my head against his arm. “If there're any signs of Connie going into labour. I don’t want to miss the arrival of the new baby.”
“It’s a month until her due date. You’ll be back in plenty of time. You’re not going to miss the birth.”
“Right.” I let out a huff of air.
“Are you nervous?” my brother asks.
I cringe. I hate to admit it. “Yes, this is a big deal. Our last assignment. If I blow it, I’ll blow my shot at the place on the professor’s research team.”
“You won’t blow it, Giorgie. You’re awesome at this stuff.”
I take a sip of my coffee, the aroma stirring my stomach in a pleasant way. I wish I could smuggle my brother with his reassuring words into my suitcase.
“You’re right,” I say. “There’s no need to be nervous.”
“You’ll smash it.”
“Giorgie!” someone screams and I look up to see my friend Sia racing towards me, her long jet braid bouncing against her shoulder as she races towards me.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” Ric downs the last of his coffee, crushing the cup in his giant paw. “You know I can’t stand the squealing.”
I elbow him again. “We don’t squeal.”
He scrunches up his face. “You do. Some of it’s so high pitched only dogs can hear.” He tosses his cup into a bin and turns to face me. “Bye, Giorgie. Take care of yourself and call me, alright?”
“I will,” I promise. “I’ll miss you.”
I’ll miss him, his packmates and his omega. They’re like family to me and it’s one of the many reasons I want that spot on the professor’s research team. I want to stay at Crestmore, stay in Studworth. I don’t want to move away.
Sia skids to a halt right as Ric releases me and he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before strolling away.
“Ready for this?” she asks.
