What the Fuck? #2
“Calm down, Zack,” Angelica says, looking down at the asshole like he’s a speck of dirt. “And clean yourself up. You have blood on your scrubs.” Her voice has a cold, unshakeable authority that makes the air feel thinner.
The beta mumbles, “Yes, ma’am,” as he scrambles upright.
My body recoils as he passes me, shoulders curling inward.
His eyes meet mine, and my heart pounds so hard it hurts, my instincts screaming that I’m not safe, that I need to run. Now!
My legs twitch uselessly beneath me, desperate to move even though they refuse to cooperate.
“It’s okay, omega,” the man holding me whispers. His weirdly kind voice settles over me, and the urge to run burns itself out all at once, leaving me hollow and blinking, my brain finally catching up to my eyes.
And for the first time, I actually see where I am.
There are several other betas moving around the massive tent.
Most wear wrinkled navy scrubs, a few in black.
Medical trays covered in bandages, vials, syringes, and coiled tubing line the walls.
More white partitions stretch across the space, each hiding a cot.
Behind some, I catch the silhouettes of omegas.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” a nurse murmurs as she guides an omega across the room.
The omega’s feet drag, unsteady. Clearly drugged.
I just stand there, shock rooting me to the floor as I watch the girl shuffle past, her eyes slack and unfocused.
“Everyone, back to work,” Angelica’s sharp voice grabs my attention, and I instinctively look up at her. She’s looking right at me, her cold stare hitting like a hand closing around the back of my neck. Firm and dominant. “You woke up ready to play, didn’t you?”
The canvas flap at the side of the tent jerks open and a man steps inside.
He’s kind of short and thin, with dark hair plastered to his forehead and tan skin gone sallow with stress.
He’s wearing black scrubs that mark him as someone important here, someone medical.
His eyes jump from me to the overturned partition, to the blood on the floor, to the betas standing too still.
“Angelica?” The man rushes toward us. “What happened?” His dark eyes slip over my naked body. “Why is she awake?” He looks at the nearest nurse. “She shouldn’t be—”
“Everything is fine, Dr. Plume,” Angelica says smoothly, like this entire situation is nothing more than a spilled cup of coffee. “A minor incident. But I am concerned about this one.” Her cold blue eyes slide to me. “How is she awake?”
My throat works. It takes effort—more than it should—but I manage to force out a sound. “Where…where am I?” My voice cracks. “What is this place?”
Neither of them looks at me.
A nurse approaches instead, placing something in Dr. Plume’s hands. A chart?
Dr. Plume scans it, brows lifting. “She shouldn’t be conscious,” he murmurs. “We gave her enough sedatives to keep her under for hours.”
Angelica’s gaze drags over me slowly. “She’s a rather big omega,” she says, voice cutting like glass. “Are you sure the dosage was appropriate?”
Her words land like a slap.
I feel weirdly…massive. Too tall. Too fat. The kind of ugly only my mother ever manages to make me feel.
Dr. Plume’s mouth pulls down, the faintest frown, and I can only assume Angelica is right. I’m too big.
Seeing the doubt on his face, Angelica makes a sharp sound in her throat.
A warning. Then she steps closer and snarls at the doctor, low and vicious, the sound slicing through the tent.
“Double the sedative for this one, and make sure she gets a strong dose of heat-suppressant. We can’t have her lashing out once she’s on display,” she snaps.
“Frantic omegas rile up the customers. And that puts everyone in danger.”
Her voice cracks like a whip through the room, making the omegas whimper with fear and the betas go still. Including the one holding me.
Dr. Plume bows his head quickly. “My apologies. It won’t happen again.”
Right beside my ear, the beta restraining me finally speaks, his breath brushing my cheek. “Is she going in the auction?”
A cold shiver detonates down my spine.
Angelica doesn’t answer him at first. She snatches the chart right out of Dr. Plume’s hands and scans it, eyes narrowing sharply.
“No,” she says, crisp and final. “She’s too valuable for open bidding.” Her gaze cuts to me, slicing me apart. “She’s unmated and has never taken a knot. Something that valuable goes in the display room.”
A violent jolt tears through me, jerking my body like something inside has snapped loose. Feeling floods back into my limbs, slow and shaky, and my voice finally claws its way to the surface.
“No!” I manage to yell, straining to get free. “You can’t—”
There’s a flash of movement, and a sting in my upper arm. My words cut off as the needle plunges in, and a cold warmth spreads under my skin.
“No—wait—” The floor tilts. My vision smears like wet paint.
Voices warp around me.
Dr. Plume calls for an extra dose of a heat-suppressant.
The beta holding me adjusts his grip as my body sags.
Then I hear Angelica’s voice, smooth and decisive. “Put her in something with a corset,” she says. “It will be the most flattering for her size.”
The world collapses inward.
And everything goes dark.