Beauty and the Alpha, page 1
Liliana Carlisle
Beauty and the Alpha
An Omegaverse Fairytale
Copyright © 2020 by Liliana Carlisle
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Liliana Carlisle asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
Contents
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
William
Noelle
Epilogue—William
About the Author
Also by Liliana Carlisle
Noelle
“Noelle! Where are you?”
My father’s anguished cry rouses me out of my thoughts. Scrambling to my feet, I race to the small bedroom in our cottage.
“I’m here, Father,” I soothe, taking in his bedridden form. His eyes are glassy, his forehead glistening with sweat. He is suffering from another delusion.
“She was here, Noelle,” he gasps, turning his head towards me. “Lauren. She was just here, and she left.”
For the thousandth time, my heart breaks.
“It’s just us here,” I murmur, crouching by his side. Thick lines of worry are etched into his once handsome face. His grey eyebrows droop in confusion.
“I just saw her. Noelle, please tell her to come home.”
Scrunching my eyes shut, I turned away so he wouldn’t see me cry.
“She can’t Father,” I say evenly, forcing myself to take deep breaths. “She’s not here anymore.”
“It’s true!” My father exclaimed. “She walked out the door—”
“She’ll come back soon,” I choke out. “Lauren is just gone for now.”
I forced the lie out as I hear my father’s sharp intake of breath.
He remembers for a few hours, then the game begins again.
My mother died five years ago, when I was only fourteen years of age. There was a dreadful sickness in her lungs. My father sobbed in agony that night, the screams of a broken Alpha losing his mate.
Now, years later, his broken heart has taken a toll on his broken mind. For a year we’ve played this game. He forgets, and I must craft a lie. And every day I die a little more inside.
It is hell.
Holding back tears, I walk over to the small kettle to prepare his poppy tea. It is the only ailment to quell his hysteria, but I am quickly running out of the dried flowers.
I will need to pay a visit to the herbalist.
I dread leaving our cottage and encountering the villagers, but I have little choice.
After Father falls asleep, lost in a haze, I venture out and down the stone path leading to the heart of town. The scent of freshly baked breads waft through the air, along with the heavy perfume of ladies that trail behind Hans.
Ugh. Hans is somewhere around here.
I have no desire to run into the rude, arrogant Alpha. Ever since I presented, his goal has been to make me his mate. The only thing holding him back is my Alpha father, as it is my duty to protect him.
“The minute he dies, Noelle,” he had sneered. “You’re mine.”
I shudder as I recall our conversation. His scent is definitely Alpha, and if I close my eyes and pretend he is someone else, it’s tolerable.
But he’s Hans. And unfortunately, he sees me and smiles, his grin terrible and deceiving.
His gaggle of Omegas follow him, drenched in perfumed oils and obnoxious rouge. They’ve never held back on making fun of me, openly declaring how plain I was with the same simple braids and pale cheeks.
Not that I cared. I am more worried about Father than appearances. Or finding a mate.
“Noelle,” he purrs, pushing aside an Omega with ruddy cheeks. “Did the old man pass yet?”
It’s a vile thing to ask, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. “He hasn’t, Hans. In fact, I’m fetching some groceries for him right now.”
“With what money?” he barks, and the ladies behind him giggle. “Did the church finally take pity on poor Lawrence Collins?”
Gritting my teeth, I walk past him, but he follows, catching up with me easily. He grabs my arm roughly and I flinch.
“You would never want for anything with me,” he murmurs in my ear. I turn and face his dark eyes and brutish face. He’s handsome, with shaggy hair and brown eyes, but no looks would ever outweigh his awful personality.
His large grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Noelle,” he whispers. “You wouldn’t have to work odd jobs just to keep your father fed.”
I shake my head, ready to speak the same sentence for the hundredth time. “Hans—”
“You’re the most beautiful Omega here,” he murmurs, hand caressing my face. “Our children would be perfect.”
My temper flares. I step out of his grip and continue walking, leaving him behind.
“It’s just a matter of time, Noelle!” he calls out behind me. “Your father’s days are numbered!”
I walk faster, tears streaming down my face.
* * *
Wicker basket full of tea, bread, and salted meat, I make my way back to our cottage.
“Father?” I call out, placing the basket on a small table. “Are you awake?”
I’m met with silence. I sigh, allowing myself a moment of tranquility as I take a piece of bread and nibble, sitting on the dining chair.
He should be up soon. The delusions should start again.
Biding my time, I attempt to relax.
The sun is setting when I open my eyes. Father needs to eat! I jump out of my chair and call to him.
“Father, it’s time to wake up!” I call, walking into the bedroom.
I freeze.
The room is empty.
“Father?” I call again, my throat dry.
Terror floods my veins, an icy arrow piercing my chest.
Oh no.
My fingers tingle and my breath comes out in gasps.
Not now…
Panic sickness. Another reason I’m the village outcast, the odd girl. Omegas often refer to me as “crazy Omega” after my episode at the bookshop.
Like father, like daughter, apparently.
But it’s happening now, when my father needs me most.
Doubled over in the bedroom, I force myself to take deep breaths, exhaling slowly.
Fight through it, Noelle, my mother used to tell me. Don’t let anyone know.
Forcing my feet to move, I take off in a run, my chest burning.
I race out the front door and head towards the village, shouting my father’s name.
“Lawrence?” I call out. The town square is practically empty, except for shopkeepers closing up for the night. Miss Edwards, who runs the vegetable stand, is still there.
“Miss Edwards!” I cry out as I race up to her. “Have you seen my father? Please, I can’t find him anywhere!”
Miss Edwards is one of the few who take pity on my father instead of making fun of him. Occasionally, she will stop by to check on us, bringing extra baked goods or pickled vegetables. Her daughter passed away years ago, and she’s taken a liking to both me and Father.
“No, Noelle,” she says, her eyes full of pity. “I haven’t.”
“I saw him!” one of Hans’ Omegas laughs, pointing at the woods. “He went there! The crazy old fool went off alone!”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I gasp, walking towards her. “You vile woman, what is wrong with you? Did it not concern you that he was walking by himself?”
She shrugs, a smirk on her face. “I thought you wandered off with him. It’s too bad you didn’t.”
“Noelle,” Miss Edwards says before I can say anything else. “You need to find him. Take Turnip with you.”
Turnip is Miss Edwards’ horse. I sold ours a year ago, so travel has been difficult.
“Thank you,” I whisper to her, my eyes blurry with tears. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she murmurs, giving me a kind smile. “Just find him.”
I take one last look at the other Omega who sneers at me before I walk toward the stables.
William
The mirror smashes against my fist, shattering into a million silver shards.
I don’t understand why Mrs. Mullins insists on decorating. No one sees this place but us.
I need not be reminded of the monster I am.
“William!” Mrs. Mullins cries. “You mustn’t destroy everything! I try to make this place as welcoming as possible—”
Not even bothering to turn towards her, I let out a roar; the sound shaking the walls of the decrepit castle. She gasps and scurries away, once again leaving me alone.
My dark hair, once short and cut clean, hangs past my ears, in a half-hearted attempt to cover my scars. The silver skin is a mark against my once handsome features. Now half of my face is distorted, and there are no reasons for mirrors in this castle.
I’ll admit, I was vain. Years ago, before that witch entered my life.
I scowl at the hourglass that sits on my end table, grains of sand slowly falling and mocking me.
Once upon a time, I could have any maiden I desired. Omegas threw themselves at my feet, their Alpha fathers offering them up in hopes of a better life for both their daughters and themselves.
I never accepted their offers, of course. It was always fun to toy with them, enjoy their sweet scent for a night. But now…
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that it takes a few moments for my senses to spike.
Something musky, dirty, foreign assaults my nose.
A growl rises in my throat.
A door opens on the first floor, followed by footsteps.
Intruder.
“Hello?” a male voice calls, and I burst out of the bedroom, ready to fight.
Glancing over the balcony, I watch as an elderly man hobbles through my castle, eyes full of wonder.
Not just any man. An Alpha.
Teeth bared, I make myself known.
“Hello?” he asks again. “Noelle?”
Who?
Rage, putrid and uncontrollable, flows through me. Adrenaline fuels me, igniting my temper.
“William!” Ms. Mullins calls. “Don’t—”
But it’s too late. I fly down the stairs in a trance, blood pounding in my ears. I reach out and grab the old Alpha by the collar of his shirt.
“You’re trespassing, old man,” I hiss, and he has the wisdom to cower.
“Oh, pardon me, s-s-son,” he chokes out. “I was just looking for my daughter, Noelle Collins—”
“There’s no one here by that name,” I growl, my chest rumbling. The old man struggles in my grip, his grey eyes wild. I could see how he was once an Alpha, but time has shriveled and shortened him.
“Breaking and entering is punishable by death,” I continue. “But I’m feeling generous today.”
My fist connects with his face. Miss Mullins screams.
Noelle
Turnip gallops for what feels like ages, the trees and wind rushing past us. I silently thank Miss Edwards for the thousandth time in my head. Without her and her kindness, I’m not sure Father and I would have made it as long as we have.
The path through the woods is barely visible, torn apart by the years. No one treads out here, but Turnip continues his journey as if he knows exactly where to go.
A clearing appears, and I frown. There is a building in the distance, something large, dark, and ominous.
A feeling of dread fills my veins, but still, Turnip and I carry on.
I gasp as we get closer.
It’s a castle!
Something I’ve only seen in books, something I’ve only heard about, is right in front of me.
How can this be? Why have I never heard of this place?
Its grey stone walls are beautiful, intricate in design. An iron gate guards the entrance but is slightly ajar. A brown scarf hangs from the gate, blowing wildly in the wind.
I swallow. Father is here.
As beautiful as it is, there’s something discomforting about this place.
Leaving Turnip out front, I force myself to gather the courage to pass through the gate. It allows me in with a creak, and I timidly take the steps towards the double doors.
Everything inside me screams to run. This place is desolate. If it wasn’t for the flicker of light through the windows, I would assume it’s abandoned.
Father is here, though. I just know it.
Just like the gate, the front doors are ajar. I hold my breath as I take the first few steps inside, marveling at the marble floors and spiral staircase.
The castle is something out of a dream. The decorations alone are worth more than Father and I have ever owned. A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, light dancing along each stone.
Yet, as I walk closer inside, a scent assaults my nose.
Something spicy, earthy, and positively delicious permeates throughout the room. It sends warmth through my body, a thrill through my heart.
I have to follow it, fear be damned.
The thrumming in my chest leads me up the stairs, but a groan of agony stops me.
Father!
I don’t second guess my steps as I race up the stairs, following the sound. No longer worried about staying quiet, I dash down a hall until I come to a wooden door. Prying it open, I run up a small stone staircase as his moans grow louder.
Reaching the top, I realize I’m in the tallest tower.
Pushing open another wooden door, I gasp as I lay my eyes on my father.
His eye is swollen, with a gash at least an inch wide on his cheek. Blood drips down his face, and my heart breaks. He’s in a small cell, iron bars locking him inside.
“Father!” I gasp, my voice coming out in sobs. “Are you alright?”
“Noelle?” he asks, his face turning towards my voice. “You have to leave here! You’re not safe!”
“Not without you,” I sob, reaching to touch his hands through the bars. How could someone do such a thing to an elder? “Who did this to you?”
“Noelle, he’s coming back—”
The scent assaults me again.
I should have known.
Forrest. Musk. Pepper.
Oh no.
Footsteps are behind me, and a shadow falls over both Father and me.
I turn around and look up at a furious Alpha. His teeth are bared, his eyes bottomless dark pits.
He’s frightening. He’s dangerous.
“You,” I gasp out as I look up at him. His eyes meet mine, hard and cold, while I try to form my next words. “You did this to him?”
He ignores my words, taking a step closer until I have to crane my neck to look up at him. In the dim light, I can only make out the outline of his face, chiseled and sharp. “He trespassed, Omega. And it looks like you did the same.”
My heart beats wildly. “He’s an elderly man, and he’s sick. He needs a doctor.” The last words barely come out, my body shaking. I force myself to back away from him, so his scent isn’t as intrusive.
I’ve never had this reaction to an Alpha before. There’s a frightening urge to throw myself into his arms, and my nails dig into my palms as I fight it.
Time and place, Noelle, my mother used to say to me.
The Alpha is unperturbed by my words. “He’s my prisoner,” he claims. “It’s as simple as that.”
I shake my head wildly, my eyes filling with tears. “Can you not see reason? He’s hurt. Do you have no compassion?”
He just stares at me, unblinking.
“Noelle,” my father tries again, but the Alpha roars.
“QUIET!” he shouts, the sound so loud I jump.
Father can’t stay here. He just can’t. I don’t know what this man, this monster, is capable of. He won’t survive it.
I know what I have to do. I know what leverage I have.
Swallowing what little pride I have left, I find the courage to speak my next words.
“If you let him go, I’ll be your prisoner instead.”
William
I must have heard her wrong.
This little Omega, offering herself to me in exchange for her father?
She’s terrified of me. Her sweet smell is soured by her fear, but I would still inhale it for the rest of my days.
I couldn’t believe what I saw when I opened the door to my prison tower. A fair face, with. dark chocolate hair wrapped tightly in a severe braid, not a strand out of place. Wide, honeyed eyes with full lashes.
And her scent. Lord, her scent.
I haven’t smelled an Omega in years. I remember, of course, their affect. But this woman, this Omega in front of me is perfection.
And I hate her for it.
She’s too kind, too pure. Her only concern is her father, not herself. As she pleads with me, I have half a mind to snap her father’s neck in front of her, then lock her away in my tower.
