Rage
Prologue
Prologue
Emma
I t was a dark and stormy night, and I was so desperate to be fucked, I wanted to die.
But that was Hell. Or at least that’s what we omegas called the maximum-security omega prison we’d been sent to. It was a fitting name for a place where the wardens forced heats on us as “proper, progressive rehabilitation measures.” More likely, it was because they enjoyed medically inducing heats and then sitting back and watching as our alpha and beta guards gave into their instincts (or wannabe instincts, respectively) and fucked us brutally through them, until we were nothing but desperate, mindless, writhing bodies on the floor.
I hated it here.
I didn’t care that the rain was coming down in heavy sheets, or that thunder rolled through the hills, shaking the prison, or that lightning pierced the sky in a violent, electric threat. I didn’t care that there were three new alpha guards, bigger and crueler looking than the rest. I didn’t care what—or who—I had to do.
I was getting the hell out of Hell.
I only hoped they took murderers in Heaven.
Maybe I should introduce myself: I’m Emma Bernstein. Or was. Now I’m simply known as 0071618. It’s the number they gave me when I arrived at this godforsaken place, and it’s what they call me when they’re feeding me or when they’re “re-educating me” on what it means to be an omega.
I’m here in Hell because seven years ago, I killed an alpha. He made the mistake of forcing a claiming mark on me, and then forcing his dick inside me. Instead of accepting his bite and penis like a good, normal, well-adjusted omega, I killed him. Knotted, with nowhere to go and distracted by his orgasm, he hadn’t seen me reach into the drawer in my bedside table. Though he’d certainly felt it when I stabbed him in the neck with the yarn scissors.
As I lay underneath him while he bled out on top of me and his knot deflated, it felt like poetic justice. Or maybe just poetic, I’m not sure.
But then I’ve never been good, normal, or well-adjusted.
But back to that dark, stormy, horny night. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Well, the dark and the horny, anyway.