Chapter 4
Auryn
My lungs feel like they’re going to explode by the time I reach the surface. The waves are heavy, knocking me around like I’m nothing more than a damn rag doll. But then again, I practically am at this point. The drugs they pumped me full of are wearing off, which means I feel everything— including the sharp, stinging chill of the icy waves embedding themselves into my fucking skin.
I look back on the cliff, but there are no signs of the mercenaries who chased me. Who pushed me off that cliff.
I know they didn’t push me, per se, but looking into the eyes of the head alpha, Mr. Blue Eyes, I knew I had no choice but to jump if I wanted to survive.
Not only because he was chasing me, but…
Because the minute I looked into his eyes, I felt this pull in my chest. It was…different than all the other times an alpha was in my presence. I saw several alphas a day at the facility. The ones who pumped me with chemicals, who cornered me with their feral gazes.
The ones who tried to breed me…
I always felt that instinct to cower, to obey, to please the alphas in my presence because that’s an omega’s nature.
But I didn’t just want to please Mr. Blue Eyes, no. I wanted to feel his bite.
I wanted to be claimed. I’ve never felt that before, and it was as terrifying as his sharp gaze.
Wherever he is now, he’s gone, and that’s all that matters. With him gone, I’m finally free.
I swim against the choppy waves, and when I get to the beach, I collapse onto the rough stones and sand. I try my hardest to catch my breath, but I’m fucking exhausted. Still, I know I need to move. I can’t trust that Mr. Blue Eyes and his band of alphas won’t come back. For all I know, they could be going out and around in order to flank me and push me into capture.
No, I cannot waste a second. So, I force my legs to stand, as wobbly as they are, and I push myself to move despite the exhaustion.
I walk and wander deliriously through the woods, shivering from the icy chill of the water and the harsh wind, until I find a suitable cave that will do for the night. It’s deeper than it appears, which I am thankful for. If they do circle back, I’ll hear them. I take my time and arrange the ferns and shrubbery as best I can to hide the entrance, and as I step back to take a look at my handiwork, my omega whines.
I know enough about my nature to understand my omega instincts. She wants him. Mr. Blue Eyes. She’s a backstabbing bitch.
But there’s also the deep, intrinsic understanding that I am preparing more than just a hideout for the night.
I’m preparing a nest.
I try to shake off the warm thoughts, my omega’s whiny voice in my head that keeps screaming we need him.
We need our alpha.
Our nest is not complete without him.
“Shut the fuck up,”
I hiss to myself as I meander my way inside the cave. My skin prickles with goosebumps, the chill turning colder as I wander further in. I’ll definitely have to see if I can use something to make a fire. Even if it’s just some rocks and forest debris—leaves, plants, sticks and dirt—it’ll have to do for the night. In the morning, I’ll be rested enough and can figure out a plan from there.
I plop myself on the floor, closing my eyes as I take a breath. I slide my hands through my wet hair as I try to settle and remind myself I’m safe for now.
And just as my heart stops racing, I feel it.
Oh no…
“Not now…please…”
I cry as the heat starts building in my core, ensnaring me with its talons.
Time is a fickle thing when you’re a prisoner. Without any clocks or any way to know how long I’d been in there, the only marker of time I have is my heat.
It comes every twenty-eight days on the dot. It used to be different, before I was captured, but ever since I came to the facility, since they started shoving those pills down my throat and shooting those chemicals into my veins, I’m much more regular now.
Still, sometimes it feels like it’s been months, and sometimes it feels like it’s been days, so the only true marker I have is this.
I’m terrified one day I won’t have this.
I’m not sure which is worse—the unbearable pain and need that festers within me until one of those vicious alpha assholes breeds me—or the idea that one of those disgusting, vile creatures might actually knock me up one day, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it.
“You can stop it now,”
I tell myself, feeling the ache in my chest and the heat between my thighs. My dress clings to my skin, and the friction makes me feel unsettled. I hate dresses, for one, but the alphas at the facility like to have easy access. At all times, even outside of my heat.
I push the fabric between my legs, but the ache is too much, and just the touch alone causes my damn pussy to throb. I know what I need, but I hate that I need it.
I know my desires are “normal.”
Needing to be knotted, to be bred, is just a part of what I was made to do, but the men at the facility…
I know they don’t have knots. I only know because I’d overheard a couple of them talking about some sort of research to alter the alphas of the Orion pack. I think that’s what they call themselves, but I don’t know for sure.
One other thing I know is that, despite the fact my heat craves it, I’ve never had a knot. I’m not certain it would make that much of a difference in the scheme of things, though.
Because once the heat hits, it’s unbearable unless I’m being bred, period.
But it doesn’t mean I like being touched or fucked by those knotless assholes.
I rarely come if at all, despite being full of theirs.
My body feels as if it is on fire, and the pain starts to throb in my groin. I push the heel of my hand against my groin, and the desire to thrust, to rub it, is intense.
Some of the men in the facility used to touch me with their hands before they bred me. They’d rub my folds or fuck me with their fingers, but usually it didn’t last very long. Still, I remember it didn’t feel terrible when they did it, though they usually stopped before I could feel the pleasure I longed for. I glance at my hand, wondering if it would feel the same if I—
I suck in a breath as the sweat breaks out beneath my dress. I bunch the fabric up, high enough that my panties are exposed. Usually, they are destroyed, and it’s weeks until I’m given a new pair.
The alphas at the facility rip them on purpose, I’m sure of it. They know there will be less of a struggle when they are in their heat. Even without knots, their desire persists.
I blink through the pain, through the warmth blanketing me. With shaky fingers, I slide one over the fabric and whimper. It’s a strange sort of touch, my pussy electrified from the friction, the need.
The fabric of my panties is wet against my fingertips, and the desire to slide them inside of me is…intense.
I’ve never touched myself like they touched me. Not only was it frowned upon—I’d learned that the first week I’d been thrown in the facility— but I knew I couldn’t accurately give myself what I need more than anything.
A knot.
I’ve never experienced heat alone before. When I went into my first heat, I called the doctor for help, and then…
Help came, but it wasn’t help. It was them. The facility. Sneed. I thought I was entering the place to get through my heat, and he told me they could help me.
Help ended up being a knotless alpha who fucked me too hard and came all over me while I cried.
I was so confused, because it felt good. But I was also disappointed because he didn’t come inside me, like I knew he should have. I also hated it. It hurt. It hurt so bad I couldn’t move after, and then some man peeled me off the dirty floor and shut me in a cage.
Where I remained until hours ago.
The only life I’ve known for years was that cage. The endless cycle of heat and needles and breeding sessions that left me feeling broken inside and out. My only solace was that somehow, I’d never gotten pregnant. I’d call it luck, but being in that cage was the opposite of lucky.
And now, here I am, free, but…
I didn’t think about what I would do in the heat, alone.
My mind wanders to Mr. Blue Eyes. His thick scent, those icy pools that stared into me. My omega’s response pissed me off, but…
No. Absolutely not, Auryn. He’s an alpha. He’s a hunter. He’s the fucking enemy, and you don’t need him.
Even if he might have the equipment you seek…
I try to dispel the thoughts of him from my mind, but the momentary thought of him makes my pussy flutter and causes a wetness to bloom between my thighs.
Fuck me.
I should not be thinking about him at all, let alone in a capacity such as this.
But I find myself wondering if he would be like the others who bred me in my cage. Would he be like the ones who touched me beforehand? The ones who wanted me wet before they fucked me? Or would he be like the ones on the clock who wanted nothing more than to come and satisfy their instinct to breed me, the ones who didn’t care how wet I was as long as they had their hole to fill with their menial deposits?
My fingers slide over the heated fabric as I close my eyes and swallow harshly.
Something tells me Mr. Blue Eyes would be in the former category. He doesn’t seem like the impulsive type. Hunting someone takes skill, patience.
I bet he’d draw it out. Slide those fingers inside me and stroke me until I was more than wet, only to take them away and make me wait.
Make me beg.
Fuck, I should not be thinking these kind of thoughts, I—
My body reacts of its own accord as I slide my finger through the side of my panties, and I feel how wet I am.
I’m soaked.
My body is hot like a fire, covered in sweat, and my nipples ache.
It’s a means to an end, I tell myself. It doesn’t mean anything. I have no alpha to knot me, not even a beta to comfort me like revered omegas do.
I’ve heard the stories in the chambers of the facility. About omegas who get married or bred off to high-ranking alphas whose sole purpose is to breed the next generation of high-ranking alphas. Those omegas are the lucky ones. The beta in the alpha’s employ cares for her. Comforts her. Especially in the absence of her alpha.
To know that kind of comfort is a dream. For any omega, but especially for one like me.
No, I have no alpha, no beta, no knot, nothing.
Just myself and my own hand, so I swallow my disdain, my shame, and I try to remember how the men in the facility touched me.
The moment I slide my finger into my aching core, I feel a flood of relief, but even then, it’s minimal. It’s not thick or big, and it’s certainly not a knot.
I slide a second finger in, which helps, and instinctively I grind myself against those two fingers. A sharp sting echoes through me, and I slide them back out, inspecting them to see how wet I really am.
I blink as desire hits me, along with curiosity. I’d seen plenty of the men at the facility lick their fingers after they’d been inside of me. They always touted how good I tasted, but I didn’t think much of it.
Here, in this cave, there is no one to tell me how good I taste. I slide one finger in my mouth and suck, tasting myself on my tongue.
It’s not terrible. A little tart, a little sweet. My mind wanders to Mr. Blue Eyes. I wonder if he’d like how I taste.
Just the thought of him sliding his finger into his mouth has my insides clenching. With my free hand, I slide not one, not two, but three fingers inside of myself while I clean off the other fingers in my mouth.
I close my eyes, imagining it’s not my hand between my legs, but his.
Imagine what his tongue would look like rolling over his fingers, the sounds he’d make.
You taste so fucking good, Auryn.
My orgasm teases me, but it’s so far away still. I pull my fingers from my mouth and slide them beneath my panties as I search for my clit. When I find it, it’s already swollen and sensitive. I pull it between my fingers while thrusting against my other hand until I feel the faint stirrings of that orgasm, inching ever closer.
I get lost in my wandering thoughts, in the feel of my tight warmth and the heat.
The heat is…
Gods, it fucking hurts, but it also feels maddeningly good. I need to come, I need–
A knot.
I close my eyes as my body tenses.
I need to feel the stuff, thick swell I’ve only heard of. I need to know what it feels like to be knotted, to have that fullness inside me, bound by pleasure and feeling until I’m nothing but a ball of fucking nerves and sensations.
My orgasm pulls away, knowing there is nothing here for us. No knot, no Mr. Blue Eyes, no thick cock that can breed me.
“No, no, no…”
I whine as the desire recedes, leaving me wet, aching, and angry.
I pump my fingers inside of myself faster, harder while I play with my clit, but it’s not enough.
It’ll never be enough.
“Please…”
I cry as the tears come of their own volition, because I can’t do this.
And all at once the heat thickens, and the pain is worse. So much fucking worse.
I pull my fingers from my pussy and curl up into a ball, my insides aching.
I cry into the dirt, trying to stifle the agony and the pain of the heat. The tears and sobs ransack me, my pussy aching and clenching for a knot that will never come.