Knot Unwanted(Pack Salvation Reverse Harem Omegaverse Duet #1)

1. Hailey

Chapter 1

Hailey

A wave of dizziness hits me, the room tilting slightly as the muted scent of crushed jasmine washes over me. It’s dull, as if the alpha has done something to tone it down, and yet it still hits me hard. Cloying and heady, like sweetness left too long in the sun. It’s her . She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t touch me, but her presence is like a weight on my back, pushing the air from my lungs. My bare skin prickles, every instinct screaming at me to flee, to disappear. But there is nowhere to go. There is no escape from the inevitable.

“Kneel.”

The order is sharp. Rebounding off the metal walls. At least, that’s what I think I’m in. A cold metal room. Empty except for the frigid air within it.

“ Kneel .” The order is sharper this time. Terse. The edge of the whip landing on my thigh and jerking me into action.

I fall, knees pressing into the cold floor beneath me. Holding back the shiver that goes through me is impossible. The blindfold over my eyes provides the only covering. The only warmth. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing—not for the first time—that I could disappear into the cold metal beneath me .

Whenever the alpha calls me for my weekly inspection, it always plays out the same way. She orders me to kneel, then waits, watching me from the shadows, my skin prickling as her gaze shifts over me. Just like it’s prickling now. Those eyes are shifting over me, noticing every imperfection, every curve and tremble. I’m acutely aware of my shallow, panicked breaths as if they’re the loudest sound in the room—perhaps they are, given how silent she always is when she evaluates me this way.

Minutes drag by in silence. She’s searching. Hunting for the slightest change in my body since the last time she examined me.

It makes me want to disappear into myself, become smaller, thinner, anything to be deemed more desirable. Her silence is almost worse than the feeling of their hands on me. But at least when their hands are on me, I know what to expect.

“Pre-sent.”

My mouth goes dry as I force myself to swallow and do as I’m told. My thighs part as I lean forward, shifting into the position she wants me to be in.

“Arch!” It’s a growl, an annoyed sound in the alpha’s throat as she gives the order.

A female alpha. Something so rare it’s no wonder she’s in charge here. At least, that’s what I tell myself. What I’ve been telling myself since the first day I arrived at this place.

I bet that she’s beautiful. Tall and strong. Rivaling the allure of omegas but being able to stand on her own. The concept is almost as foreign as her existence.

If I had even a shred of her strength, maybe this wouldn’t be happening to me. If I wasn’t born an omega, this definitely wouldn’t be happening to me. How many times have I wished I’d been born a beta instead?

The whip snaps against my thigh once more and I bite back a whimper. The heat of the blow almost rivals the sting. A searing heat that chases away the chill. For a moment borne from what can only be rising insanity, I want to ask her to do it again. To whip me so I can feel. Anything except this cold. Anything except the pain.

I arch my back as commanded, the curve pulling taut every muscle in my body. My breath trembles. I can even imagine the condensation floating from my lips.

There, I wait.

This position leaves me exposed, vulnerable—and not just physically. The alpha’s heels click as she walks around me slowly, a disapproving grunt in her throat. I swallow hard and arch a little more. Why? Because some weak part of me actually wants her praise. Some weak part of me actually wants this person to see that I am good. She might be an alpha, but she’s female. She can’t really be like all the male alphas I’ve met since I revealed, right?

She must have some heart.

“ Pathetic ,” she finally spits. A wave of shame washes over me, pooling in my gut. “You think you deserve anything from me like this?”

For a moment, something untamed claws at my ribs—an urge to stand up, to fight back, to tell her that she’s wrong about everything. That I’m more than what they see. But then I remember the sounds from the “special training” rooms, the screams that echo through these halls at night. I swallow the urge down, letting it dissolve into the familiar taste of submission. Rebellion is a luxury omegas can’t afford. A luxury I can’t afford.

The whip cracks against the floor beside me, a warning I dare not ignore. I arch a little more, silently begging for mercy even though the crime is one I had no input in. I didn’t choose my designation. I didn’t choose my parents or my body. I didn’t choose any of this.

“You need to learn your place, omega. Submission is more than just a position; it’s an understanding.” Her leather-gloved finger presses under my chin, forcing me to lift my head slightly. The motion is both humiliating and infuriating. I can’t see her, but I can feel the weight of her gaze pinning me. Letting me know my place .

“How old is this one again?” She grips my chin, the pressure growing punishing as she turns my head this way and that. She hums a ‘hmm’ in her throat.

“Twenty-one,” a voice says from somewhere in the room. Male. I sniff as discreetly as I can. No identifying scent. Beta.

The alpha uses this moment to press the tip of her whip between my shoulder blades, forcing my spine to stiffen. A silent reminder to behave. A shudder runs down my spine.

Twenty-one, and still unwanted.

“A bit…old,” she hums. “And yet…untouched. Are you sure she’s functioning?”

I can hear when the beta shifts. “Double-checked her bloodwork in the file myself. All checks out.”

The female alpha does that ‘hmm’ thing in her throat again.

“Of course, you are one of my best. You know how detrimental it would be for you if you didn’t do your job right.” The beta doesn’t respond, and the alpha’s grip on my chin forces my head to the left and then right again. She snorts, and I feel her attention latch on to me. “Perhaps one of the others, a bit less…rounded, would be a better investment.”

I repress a shudder at the word “investment.” They didn’t even have to use the word fat, yet it hung in the air between them like a thick fog. My insides knot with that recognizable mixture of dread and self-hatred as I remain silent and wait.

“Perhaps,” the beta replies. “However, this one has elevated T-compound in her blood.”

“A late bloomer, then.” In the silence, I can almost hear her thinking. “Her first heat will be powerful when it arrives, I’m sure. Worth the wait. Especially for those who appreciate…” She pauses, her fingers moving to grip my upper arm, not unkindly but with a firmness that brooks no argument. “Ample proportions.”

Her words are like an echo of every taunt, every cruel whisper that’s haunted me my entire life. Ample. Too much. Always too much .

She says the same thing every time, as if she forgets me the moment I leave this room. Every time she brings me here to inspect me, it starts all over again. And each time, it’s the same thing. She’s too big. Too old. She’s not what we’re looking for.

I don’t know why she keeps trying, but as that familiar, icy dread settles in my gut, I know I don’t want her to stop. Because if she doesn’t manage to sell me, if I don’t manage to be bought, I don’t know what happens next.

“How much food did she have yesterday?” Her voice carries, and I know she’s still speaking to the beta.

“Just the usual rations.”

Maybe it’s hunger, maybe it’s the breath I’ve been holding, but my stomach chooses that moment to betray me with a growl. The sound echoes in the metal chamber, and I want to die from the shame of it. Heat floods my face while cold ripples through the rest of my body.

“Fat bitch wants more,” the beta grunts.

He has no alpha bark, but I wither anyway.

No matter how I try to eat tiny amounts to show them I’m a good omega, I’m always still hungry. And even though I eat only half of what they provide—sometimes not at all—the wide hips remain. The thick thighs. The soft curves betray me even now. They mark me as different from the sleek, willowy omegas that everyone desires.

“Stand.” The command comes with another sharp crack of the whip against my flesh. I scramble to obey, my muscles trembling from holding the previous position for so long. My knees nearly buckle as I rise.

“Look at those thighs,” she murmurs. The urge to run and hide under a large fluffy blanket where the world won’t see me is strong. But there are no fluffy blankets here. There is barely anything in my room. Nothing that will allow an omega comfort. Nothing that will make us nest. Nothing that will influence a heat.

Standing here, open to these strangers…the message is clear .

I am nothing but an object for their amusement.

I must know my place until I am good enough to deserve a master. An alpha who will put up with an unwanted omega like me.

“Trash,” the beta whispers under his breath. In the silence of the room, I hear him anyway.

I bite my lip to keep from protesting. To keep from explaining that this is just how I’m built, that I’ve tried everything to conform to their standards. But omegas don’t speak unless spoken to. That was the first lesson they taught me here at the Reform Academy.

The female alpha tuts. “You know what they say. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” She moves closer. I feel her breath on my face as she leans in, her fingers suddenly gripping my jaw with bruising force. “We’ll fix that appetite of yours, won’t we, little pig?”

My stomach clenches, not just from hunger this time but from fear. I know what they mean by “fixing” things here. I’ve heard the screams from other rooms. Have had nightmares about what they’ve been doing to the other omegas trapped in this hellhole.

Submit. It’s the only way.

I know she doesn’t want an answer. If I do respond, I’d be punished for making a sound. Instead, I dip my chin lower, signaling affirmation and subservience.

It works. She steps away again. “Cee only wants omegas like this for one thing. These big ones that no one else wants…” I can sense that she turns towards me again. “They’re perfect for his tastes.”

So that’s where I’m headed then. To this…Cee. An alpha that procures multiple omegas? An alpha that wants what others don’t. Like me. The thought is hard to get around.

But doesn’t it usually take multiple alphas to satisfy a single omega in heat? Not the other way around. An alpha collecting multiple omegas is unheard of. But what do I know.

She walks away, heading across the room, and I hear the faint tapping of keys on a keyboard .

“This one is almost ready. I think he will be pleased with our progress here. Complete the exit training and make sure she’s prepared for transport. I’m giving you three days.”

“Yes, Widow.”

“Good,” she releases a huff. “I can’t wait to head back to the city. Being out in the middle of nowhere is starting to wear on me.”

The beta laughs too loud for a joke that isn’t even that funny, but I keep my thoughts and my expressions to myself, chin dipped to my chest, hands trembling as I clasp them before me.

When a rough hand grabs my arm, I jerk, a little yelp leaving my lips.

Oh shit .

I freeze. No sound. I shouldn’t make a sound. I wait for the whip, bracing for it, but it doesn’t come.

“Mind yourself, little pig.” Heels click. I feel the barest movement of air against my naked skin as the alpha steps closer. “You’re so close to leaving here.”

Unexpectedly, the sensation of her gloved finger against my jaw makes me flinch. She chuckles low in her throat. “There, that’s more like it.” But then her fingers tighten on my jaw once more, tugging my head in her direction. “Remember your training, bitch. I won’t let you keep me out in this wilderness for another three months. Be a good omega…and you won’t get hurt.”

Be a good omega…and I can leave this place.

I nod. Because that’s what good omegas do.