4. Charlotte
CHAPTER 4
CHARLOTTE
C old. It’s the first thing I register. Numbing cold, seeping so deep I’m shivering, body shaking, teeth rattling, as the damp concrete bites into my bare skin. My bare skin. I’m naked—oh shit, I’m naked.
Shifting slightly, I wince, my body aches, yet I hold in a sob. A penetrating pain radiates from my neck down. I’m sore in places that make me want to scream, rage, and vomit. But my throat feels raw, voice stolen by days— fucking days —of pleading, begging, or maybe just silent seething through clenched teeth. I don’t know anymore.
I don’t want to open my eyes. If I open them, it makes it all real. So, I keep them shut, refusing to accept my reality. Maybe I’m still in that fevered haze, lost in whatever nightmare that bitch of a doctor pumped into my bloodstream. But I already know.
I know .
They dragged me into that hellhole of a house, disoriented and confused, but I tried to take stock of my surroundings in hopes of remembering. No wonder no one ever found these Omegas. As they pulled me from the exam room and down a long corridor, I tried to memorize details. A dark cavern lit with giant floodlights. A U-shaped paved road lined with nondescript buildings, tiny windows reaching out for the smallest bit of light like starving entities. Those must be the buildings they are keeping us in. So many, like bunkers, lined up one after the other.How many Omegas have they taken? If they’re all full. . .
Oh, God!
My memories fade in and out.
The ‘house’ they brought me to stood out like an apparition—white and pristine,wrongin the middle of the stark, rocky underground setting. Guards lined the wraparound porch, guns in hand, eyeing me salaciously, hungry, sniffing the air as cramps began to wreck my body. My grunts of pain were ignored, the assholes holding me between them gripping my arms with punishing force as they pulled me up the stairs and into the house .
“She smells so fucking sweet,” one of the men groaned as we passed.
“Keep your eyes forward, soldier! She’s not for you.” Another guard barked out as the doors closed behind us with an ominous click.
It was the smell that hit me first. The scent of too many Omegas in heat, stressed, soured, tainted—unnatural. I wanted to run, to break free from the guards, bare my teeth at the close proximity. We’re not meant to be this close to one another in this state. Not unless we’re pack.
This is wrong .
My thoughts were fleeting as they forced me past room after room. Instead of plastered walls, glass lined each space. Men and women—all Omegas—writhing in pain, pleading for relief. My stomach twisted as I caught glimpses of others being used,penetrated, their moans of distress swallowed by the sound of the wild beating of my heart in my ears.
None of it was consensual. A biological imperative isn’t a choice.
“Throw her in room twelve, cameras are on. They want to watch.” A tiny feminine voice cut through my haze. Lifting my head, I peered up at her through blurred vision, her face distorted by the pain taking hold of my body. Cramps seized my limbs, yet guards kept me upright so I wasn’t able to double over.
“She won’t last long.” The woman laughed as my guards tossed me into a carpeted room with a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor.
Itriedto hold my cries inside. Itriednot to bang on the glass doors. Itriednot to plead for relief. But my treacherous body betrayed me.
I remember the heat.Oh God, the heat .
It hit me like a freight train, a wave of intense, all-consuming need. My body burned, every nerve ending screaming for release. I tried to resist, to fight it, but it was no use. The drugs they gave me, the scent of Alphas, it was all too much.
Hands.So many handstouching, grabbing, invading. Mouths, hot and wet, on my skin. The need to be filled, to be fucked, overwhelmed everything else. I begged, pleaded, not even sure what I was asking for.More. Less. Stop. Don't stop.It was a nightmare, a fever dream of carnal lust and desperate need.
I can still feel it, theechoof that need pulsing through my veins. My body screams at me, used and abused. The scent of sex, thick and cloying, clings to my skin. I want toscrub it off, toscour myself clean, but I can barely move. My limbs feel heavy, weighed down by the remnants of the drugs and the lingering effects of the heat.
With my elbows and all the strength I have left, I pull my body forward, seeking out the bed Iknowis waiting for me on the other side of the room they’ve returned me to.Tears burn my eyes, but I’m too pissed to let them fall.
Eventually, I manage to pull myself onto the bed, my body shaking with the effort. The sheet beneath me is rough, scratchy against my sensitive skin. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to find some semblance of comfort, of safety.But there is none to be found.Not here. Not in this place.
Closing my eyes again, I force down the memories.I will survive this.Not just for myself, but for every Omega they’ve taken.This place will burn.
Because I will find a way—no matter how long it takes—toshut this operation down, every single one of them. Then, I will seek out the head of the snake anddecapitate it.