Samson
The Boundarylands Omegaverse
Callie Rhodes
Contents
Samson
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
The Boundarylands Omegaverse Series
About the Author
Samson
Book 3 in The Boundarylands Omegaverse Series
She can never be his omega, but she’s everything he craves.
No woman willingly travels to the Boundarylands.
It’s where they are—the Alphas.
They keep to themselves in the wilderness, and beta civilization knows to keep its distance. Especially beta women…for fear they may not be a beta after all.
The only way to know your true nature is to feel the touch of an Alpha. Omegas may be rare, but every woman knows their fates are hellish—held captive, broken, mated, knotted, and bred.
Cassidy is one of the few trusted betas in the Boundarylands, and maybe the one who knows them best. She’s spent years keeping her head down and studying their ways. But her submissive ways and mundane nature hasn’t stopped the biggest and baddest Alpha from noticing her.
Even though she’s no one special, Cassidy can’t deny the pull that draws her toward Samson. She might never be his omega, but that’s the benefit of being the biggest alpha in the pack—you can do whatever the hell you want.
Chapter One
"I don't think it was appropriate for Dr. Cheung to allow you on this research trip." Ian Wilkerson took his eyes off the road long enough to drive the point home with his trademark scowl.
Cassidy Carr rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of the mid-size sedan they were riding in. The one she'd picked up from the rental counter at the Sacramento Airport four hours ago. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the ache that—not coincidently—had been pounding in her head for the same amount of time.
"You've made that pretty clear, Ian," she said, trying to keep her tone civil. The last thing she wanted to do was let her travel partner know how much he annoyed the living shit out of her. She was pretty sure that was his whole agenda. But Cassidy was a scientist, not an actress, and she could only bite her tongue so hard. "I heard you say it the first fifty times."
She'd deliberately turned away to gaze out the passenger window, but swore she could still feel him glaring at her.
"You don't have to be such a bitch about it," he said testily. "It's just my opinion."
Yes, Ian Wilkerson's opinions.
Ian had lots of those.
Cassidy knew all about them. So did everyone else in the sociology department who stopped to talk to Ian Wilkerson for more than half a minute.
Right up there with the strongest—that he was God's gift to the Alpha Studies graduate program—was the one about how Cassidy should have never been allowed into it. Then there was his opinion about how women shouldn't be allowed to cross into the Boundarylands, and that those who did should be considered deviant by society and subjected to psychological screening.
The trouble was that many of the departmental staff actually agreed with him.
All except their advisor, Dr. Cheung.
Cassidy had searched long and hard to find a graduate program in Alpha Studies that would even consider accepting a woman. Dr. Cheung was the first to see past her gender to the quality and thoroughness of her work.
And Cassidy had done her best not to let him down. During her time in the program, she'd worked her ass off, rising to the top of her class academically. Before she'd completed her first year of studies, Dr. Cheung had asked her to become his primary assistant. Since then, Cassidy had accompanied him on his many research trips to the Pacific Northwest Boundarylands.
That was the reason Ian's words were so infuriating.
This was her research trip. Not his.
This would be her seventh visit to the Boundarylands in the last sixteen months. Ian, on the other hand, had only visited the Southern Atlantic Boundarylands—and only once.
This was supposed to be Cassidy's first solo trip, her opportunity to prove that she was ready to become a full-fledged researcher—one who didn't need to be supervised.
But apparently, that was too much to ask. When word got out, the backlash was immediate and vicious. Nearly all of her colleagues and professors protested the idea of Cassidy making a research trip by herself, arguing it would open the university up to enormous legal and financial liability.
But Cassidy knew that their sole real concern was that women shouldn't be alone in the Boundarylands.
Even if that woman's beta nature had been tested and confirmed a dozen times over, and was only a couple months away from earning a whole slew of letters after her name.
Cassidy tried not to blame those who stood in her way. After all, very few betas, even those who'd been on the faculty for years, had ever visited the Boundarylands. Everything they knew about alpha law and culture came from outdated textbooks and biased news reports.
Beta society believed alphas to be snarling, primitive giants, only content when they were fighting or fucking.
But Cassidy knew that wasn't the case. Alphas were big, sure—stronger, faster, and far more powerful than any beta, male or female—but they were still people. Humans, with human emotions and needs.
The voices of those who knew the truth, however, were drowned out by more powerful voices peddling fear and conspiracy theories. These elements of beta society didn't want to focus on commonalities, preferring to exaggerate the differences in their natures—alphas' heightened senses, for instance, or their territorial instincts and predatory drive—instead of educating others about their fierce protectiveness, resilience, and self-reliance. About the bonds of brotherhood and the even stronger bond between alphas and their mates. About their capacity to love.
It was up to researchers like her to change that narrative. To highlight the shared humanity between the Boundarylands and the beta world.
This was Cassidy's passion. The work she had dreamed about doing since she first saw a photograph of the Boundarylands. The land was so wild, so beautiful. And the powerful men who worked it with their hands, building homes and respecting the natural bounty around them, were even more so.
This passion was what had driven her to fight for her position and research opportunities. It was why she had made more trips to the same Boundaryland community than any other researcher besides Dr. Cheung.
It was why she was going again tonight.
"I just don't understand why you would willingly put yourself at risk," Ian said, trying another tack. "Do you get off on the danger?"
Cassidy had had enough.
"I don't know what you hope to gain by continuing to berate me," she said icily, suddenly sick to death of playing nice. "We're already over the boundary, in case you haven't noticed, and only a few miles from Evander's Bar. Nothing you say is going to change anything at this point."
Cassidy knew that wasn't entirely true. His words would continue to worm their way under her skin and piss her off. Which was probably exactly what Ian was hoping.
That he could throw her off her game right before she conducted her first solo research trip, and make her look like a fool—or worse, a failure.
"Apparently, I can't turn my conscience on and off like you can," Ian said. Somehow he managed to
make it sound as though he was the injured party instead of a thorn in her side. "You've made some questionable life choices, but you're still a young and somewhat decent-looking girl. You could have gone into some other field. You should have picked nursing or teaching or something—then you could actually be useful until you found someone to marry."
Cassidy bit the inside of her cheek. She'd been hearing versions of this same crappy argument from her family, friends, peers, and acquaintances for the last four years now.
"I'm good at what I do," she couldn't stop herself from saying. "Damn good."
Better than you. Cassidy swallowed down that thought along with the rage that was bubbling up inside her.
There was nothing to gain by fighting with Ian. She'd learned that a long time ago.
Ian was right about one thing, though—Cassidy had always been something of an anomaly, drawn to the outdoors, unlike most betas who were most comfortable in the close quarters of urban settings.
"Okay," Ian said, though Cassidy knew he was nowhere near dropping the subject. "So explain to me why you fought so hard to make your first unsupervised research trip on a Friday, of all nights."
"Because I'm a sociologist about to document what no one else ever has," she said. "And if you don't understand the importance of such work, then you're not really a scientist, Ian."
Cassidy crossed her arms and leaned back in the faux-leather passenger seat. She was done; that was all the explanation she was going to give. She didn't owe the little prick anything else.
She had already presented her reasoning to the department, both formally and in casual conversations. She had done her best to educate her colleagues about the significance of Friday nights in Evander's Bar. That was when a local madam brought in a group of women from a brothel just over the boundary to service the alphas.
No sociologist had ever been in Evander's Bar on a Friday night. No one from the outside had studied or even witnessed the interactions between beta prostitutes and their alpha clients—not even Dr. Cheung. Cassidy would be breaking new ground.
Of course, she'd been subjected to a lot of disgusting "humor" and forced to defend herself against accusations that she was going there for salacious reasons. Cassidy planned to witness their social interactions. Not their sexual ones.
And she was the best researcher for the job.
Over the last sixteen months, Cassidy has successfully developed a handful of friendly relationships within the Boundaryland community, including with the omega mate of the alpha who owned and operated Evander's Bar.
It was this omega who had extended to Cassidy the invitation to come back on a Friday night. The omega—who'd faced her own trials before finding her alpha—hoped that Cassidy's work would help dispel some of the myths about alpha sexuality that were widespread in beta culture. She'd even offered to set up interviews with a few of the working girls and a couple of their frequent customers.
This was groundbreaking research.
Cassidy's groundbreaking research. She'd been the one to do all the legwork. She'd taken considerable time and effort to create the relationships. She alone had been brave enough to take those first steps.
Not Ian.
Cassidy felt a surge of relief as they rounded the curve in the road, and the old, weathered sign out front of Evander's came into view. She didn't wait for Ian to finish pulling the keys out of the ignition before throwing her door open and starting toward the massive door.
She drew a few stares from the men relaxing on rough-hewn chairs on the porch as she marched up the wooden steps. She had met some of the alphas before, but others were new faces. There were a few grunts of greeting, and none of them said or did anything to make her uneasy. However, even though she'd been to this bar over a half-dozen times now, she still hadn't mastered the jitters that seized her every time she walked inside.
Her hands still tingled. The fine hairs on the back of her arms and the nape of her neck still stood on end. The pit of her stomach still dropped.
There was no help for it.
No matter how many times Cassidy found herself in the presence of alphas, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider.
A small, weak, fragile outsider.
Maybe all betas felt that way. Perhaps they couldn't help it. It was probably a hormonal reaction. A survival response. A reminder to keep her head down and her movements and reactions submissive.
The sound of Ian's footsteps behind her was all the motivation she needed to keep going and push past the unease. She shoved as hard as she could against the heavy door and slipped inside.
Wow.
Cassidy was greeted by the sound of music, conversation, and laughter. The bar was busier than she'd ever seen it. She supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised, considering what was on the menu.
But this wasn't just an ordinary bar filled with people enthusiastically greeting the weekend.
These were Alphas.
When she had visited with Dr. Cheung, there had never been more than six or seven of them, but tonight there was at least twice that.
The unease in Cassidy doubled as well.
"Hey, little lady," a deep voice rumbled at her right. "Never seen you before. You must be new. What's your name?"
Cassidy looked up…and up…into the face of a seven-foot tall alpha with shoulders that were wider than two of her pushed together.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"Her name is Dr. Carr," an even deeper voice answered for her—a voice that Cassidy knew well. The rich sound resonated through her. "She's not one of Nicky’s girls."
"My mistake," the first alpha said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "No offense meant."
"None taken," Cassidy said, even though she knew that the apology was directed at the alpha behind her.
The one with the voice that made her heart pump a little bit faster. She was reluctant to turn around and face him. She knew from experience that gazing into his eyes would only distract her more, and she wasn't quite ready for that yet.
So she just said his name instead.
"Samson."
After seven visits in sixteen months, Samson was the only alpha who made her feel this way. Wary and cautious, sure, but also…fluttery. Cassidy winced at the thought. ‘Fluttery’ wasn't exactly a scientific description, but she couldn't think of a more accurate word for the changes in her heart rate, the temperature of her skin, the increased sensitivity in her fingertips, and…other places.
Maybe it was the alpha's appearance—his thick brown hair, his deep brown eyes, his strong jawline, and chiseled cheekbones. There was no denying that Samson was more conventionally attractive than most alphas.
But the differences didn't stop there: Samson was also taller, more massive, more muscular, more…everything than all the other alphas she'd met.
"Dr. Carr," he said again.
And on top of all that, he had a sense of humor too—a rare trait among alphas.
"You shouldn't call me that," Cassidy chided as she turned around, unable to put off facing him any longer. "You know I haven't earned the title yet."
Cassidy thought she was ready to greet him, but she had been wrong. Just as with every other visit, her first glimpse of Samson took her breath away.
Literally.
The air caught in her throat. Her belly contracted, but no air filled her lungs. Cassidy mentally cursed the attraction she felt toward Samson. The one she couldn't control.
And the one she absolutely could not act on.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
She cast her gaze toward the floor, a show of submission she would have made instinctively when asked a direct question by any other alpha—but with Samson, she had to force herself to look away.
The truth was that Cassidy didn't want to give up even a second of looking at him. She saw him so rarely—only a couple of days every two or three months. Any time he was in front of her
, she didn't want to look away.
But she had to.
Not just so she could breathe and find her words, but to behave professionally and avoid drawing any negative attention to herself. Dr. Cheung insisted that all of his students show the utmost respect when out in the field. Only perfect behavior from the outsiders would allow the researchers to continue their good relationship with the Boundaryland community and be welcomed back.
"I'm here to conduct more research for my dissertation," she said, finally finding her voice.
"Tonight? But you know what happens on Friday nights."
"Of course," Cassidy said. "That's why I had to come. I'm researching all kinds of relationships between the alpha and beta cultures, and tonight is a chance to gain some key insights into the more intimate interactions."
Samson let out a low rumbling sound that spread through the whole bar. A few gazes shot their way, and Cassidy found herself shifting nervously under the scrutiny.
"I don't like the idea of some of my brothers thinking you're a whore," Samson muttered.
Cassidy felt a sharp stab of disappointment at his words—not because he meant any insult by the word 'whore', but at the reminder of why he was here tonight. She did not judge the commerce between the alphas and the beta woman who willingly earned a living servicing them—but it was different with Samson.
Samson had always been polite to her, even protective at times. Still, there always came a time during each visit when Cassidy had to remind herself that the attraction she felt was one-sided.
Cassidy was a confirmed beta. Samson's touch—when he'd shaken her hand, or politely touched her arm to guide her to a table, or even accidentally grazed her knee when they were seated—always ignited a sizzle of heat that started deep in her belly and landed between her legs…but nothing else.
Samson (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 3) Page 1