Chapter 9
The rasp of the zipper engaging from navel to neck spelled her doom.
Jules had won.
Her once loved jumpsuit like sandpaper against Brenya’s skin, constrictive, uncomfortable. It wasn’t the scented softness of his used shirts. It wasn’t safe.
She wasn’t safe. Not anymore.
Two months ago, she would have willingly sucked Jacques’s cock from dawn to dusk just to wear a Beta Sector jumpsuit for five minutes. Now, she wanted to rip it off and see it burned.
Loathed it.
Because Jules, the diabolical, gentle male who gave delight and confused the senses, wanted to take her away from the Red Room.
From her nest.
The nest she needed to be in, caught in a compulsion beyond her understanding.
To the most dangerous place in the Dome.
“This is for the best.” That was it. That was all the Beta said before he pulled her into a hug.
Bastard.
Yet his hungry corpses slithered in and out of her psyche like they were playing house in her brain. Cleaning out the cobwebs, caressing her anger.
After all the sweetness and pleasure, even after the threats… she was certain now.
She was going to kill him.
Not just threaten him with murder, or lash out. But kill him.
She’d already devised three ways she could do it. Strangle him with the sheets in her nest. Bash his head in with the nearby vase. Kill herself.
That would assure his untimely death.
But Brenya could not bring herself to reach out for a single weapon. She just wasn’t built for violence. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
Warmed by his chest, Brenya panting, her face turned from his, refusing to look at, acknowledge, or speak to him.
Stiff, even as he’d adjusted her standard Beta Sector jumpsuit, one arm engaged around her middle. The Omega enraged.
This was not the seeping in of his anger issues. This was her.
Right?
It had to be. She had every reason to be furious.
She’d been manhandled into this clothing that was not his used shirt while her malfunctioning brain had tried to process what he’d disclosed about the locations of the virus. Panicking over how she would get to them and destroy them.
Trying to remember each detail.
Worried. Deeply, deeply worried.
Because one place it had been hidden away in was outside of her power and beyond her skill. One untouchable secret location that doomed everyone in the Dome one way or another.
And this mate, this deceitful Beta… he’d stolen a vow from her, tricked her into a promise.
Ripped it right out of her chest. Assured she’d have to keep it.
Knowing what she now knew, Brenya could never leave Bernard Dome.
Ever.
Under any circumstances.
Because he’d told her…
Told her…
She couldn’t even think it without feeling her eyes burn and her legs shake.
And before she could process it. Before she could vomit or run… he told her he was taking her to Jacques.
That it was not an optional meeting.
That it was necessary to her health and wellbeing.
That he would physically carry her there kicking and screaming if he had to. And she had.
Kicked.
Screamed.
Begged.
Sobbed.
There was nothing else she could have done. One moment, she’d been content in her nest; the next horrified, and then immediately destroyed.
The guards outside the door must have thought he was murdering her.
Jules had forcibly dressed her in a Beta Sector jumpsuit, pinning her gently to the floor when she’d tried to flee, the Omega shrieking like he was stabbing her to death.
And Jacques himself had used her terror to press in, yanking on her, ravishing her thoughts as she clawed at the Red Room floor, trying to escape the man carefully pulling Beta clothing over her naked body.
“Brenya. Brenya. brENYA!”
Voice even, effortless, as Jules twisted her into a new alignment, purring loudly, his soothing tone vibrating through each word.
“You will be separated from Jacques Bernard by a wall of tungsten steel bars reinforced with a pane of clear amorphous metal. He will not be able to touch you. And I will be there. I will be with you. Because you have to do this, every morning, Brenya. You must. Remember what I told you. You have to try, and now you know why. An Omega cannot be parted from her mates. It’s making you… unbalanced.”
Scrabbling against the floorboards, she was rolled belly down, failing to find leverage on the lacquered wood.
A parody of a dance, he bent and so must she.
He rotated a limb, and both her legs had been forced into the jumpsuit, Jules able to manipulate her into strange shapes as if it were nothing, as if he had wrestled much larger males and won every time.
Every bruise she earned was of her own making.
He did not use pain. Only skill. Specific, careful force that wore her out and didn’t tire him in the least.
She ripped off the tip of a nail trying to claw into the floor, fighting his hold and failing as he secured another arm through a sleeve, careful not to stress the joint of her repaired shoulder.
The offense of this garment!
And when she tried to take it off, the game was over.
Jules had her spread, knees to her ears, her wrists pinned by her head as he shook his head no.
Unsure what came over her, Brenya leaned up and took the meat where his shoulder met his neck between her teeth and bit down.
With every ounce of her strength.
Hard.
Piercing.
Drawing blood.
Refusing to let go.
“That isn’t very nice, Brenya.” But it was said with a velvet gasp, as if the Beta took great pleasure in the act. And that strange cock of his was growing hard again against her belly.
Which had her seeing red.
Her jaw locked, the Omega snarling against his shoulder as he changed their positions yet again. Pulling her closer, rocking her upper body as he angled his hips away.
“I can’t fuck you right now, sweetheart. We have an appointment. You’ll be sore enough as it is.” All said as the man worked his knees apart and leaned up, bringing her with him. One male foot found the floor, and he lifted her like it was nothing. “But I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
She was never going to have sex with him again. Never!
And she tried to tell him so with a mouthful of his flesh between her teeth. But he reached for where his slacks had been laid out on the bed, stepping into them one leg at a time despite the burden of an Omega taking a handful of his hair and yanking while those little teeth punched deeper.
There wasn’t room in her panic to create words or argue, all her energy going into bucking against his grip. And when Beta hands reached between them, pulled up her zipper, and covered the flesh scented with his semen and her slick, Brenya hyperventilated until she almost fainted.
Her jaw slackened, the taste of his blood on her lips, as she felt a new kind of terror.
Because her life was valuable beyond measure now, and she had acted poorly in the protection of it.
Her heart felt like it might stop.
It must never stop.
Gods, please. Never.
A male fingertip came to her chin, turning her toward his bright eyes, but her gaze remained locked on the wall, fixated on a crack in the wood, as she mentally berated herself.
She could not face this Beta beast whose blood was smeared across her mouth.
The one who set her free, placing her tingling feet to the floor as he rocked her back and forth, holding her close.
Taking her hand in his, he brought her palm to the bulge in his black trousers.
“I’m not hard because I enjoy your rage or fear.
It’s a natural response to your scent. And I’m not going to rape you. ”
Yanking her hand back, honey eyes cut to his, burning with warning that she would fight if he tried.
But she had just fought… and she’d lost.
She’d even torn into his shoulder, the male’s blood smeared all over her lips and chin.
And as quickly as her bravado had come, it diminished.
“Omega anger is a useful emotion, but it will affect those around you in ways you do not anticipate. It alters your scent to warn your mate that you need immediate tending. It also fills the air with pheromones that urge a male to rut—to calm you, you see. With purrs, touch… an Alpha would growl and potentially force an upset female to take his knot. When you rage around Jacques, he will desperately want to fuck you. We both know he lacks the self-awareness to resist. If you could take five breaths and slow down, it will help.”
Stomach revolting, she felt her mouth sour and swallowed down the flood of saliva. The taste of his blood thick in her mouth.
Iron. Copper.
Salt.
A slow drizzle of vibrant red ran over his pectoral muscle, Brenya instantly mesmerized by it. Hating how distracting it was.
“A bite is a very intimate act an Omega performs for her lover. A mark on her mate that mirrors the mark he left on her. It is… precious. Thank you, Brenya.”
“No!” She wanted to argue, to explain that it was not her purpose, but Brenya found herself caught in the openness of his gaze, his ocean parting so she could see deeper, to the place she should never, ever look, but had not yet been able to turn away from.
To the monster within that was so very pleased to be near her, that was so grateful she cared enough to hurt him.
“I’m not—”
“You have every right to be angry.” Catching her fingers again, he held them in his palm, warmed them, as he said, “About Jacques… about all of it. And I have every right to ensure that you stop taking risks that could harm you. You are too intelligent and too adept—in the best sense—for me to secure your safety any other way.” A flood of his death-like tranquility was offered to her, the Beta at peace with all of it, as he straightened her jumpsuit and soothed her aching elbow, careless of spreading his blood on her gray jumpsuit. “I have seen what you are capable of.”
He looked so fucking proud of her that she could scream, his shoulder an oozing mess.
But she couldn’t. No one could ever know the unspeakable secret he’d whispered in her ear. Ever.