Chapter 9 #2
I look down at the dark brown liquid in my cup.
“Yeah. I should have at least a month or two between cycles. There’s no way Judge isn’t at least sending an enforcer to come snatch me up for what I did.
And if I get rid of my stench, maybe dye my hair, and get some tattoos, he’ll never find me again. I’ll blend in like the rest.”
God, does that sound liberating.
Mourning my past this morning really feels like I’m ready to accept this new fate.
“Well, she told us when you have a heat, you can go to that cabin she showed us. Let’s just keep an eye on you, and then go there when you feel ready.”
“That cabin creeps me out.”
She perks a brow. “That’s why I’m hanging out in that watch house. I don’t want you out there, alone.”
The cabin was something I didn’t like, and yet it’s all we got.
It’s a small house with nesting materials removed from the hospital, and omegas can ride out their heat there.
The area is covered in the vines that the suppressants are made from, so it’s a natural deterrent, and all within the thick, tall fencing of this compound.
I’ll be given four times the dose to make this heat cycle extra quick.
There’s a house nearby that someone can stay in to keep an eye on the place and help the omega.
It honestly feels like a trap. But four doses might mean I can burn through this in two days instead of four to six, and other omegas here have said they’ve used it more than once. Heat houses aren’t uncommon, either.
I’ll take that risk.
“By the way, did you notice that Judge had those weirdly pale eyes?” Selene asks.
“Yeah, I didn’t stare at them much, though.”
“I think it means he’s an echo.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course he is. All the more reason we need to be careful. Who knows what he’s capable of.”
“It’ll be okay. They would have been here by now if they were coming, I’d imagine.”
I sigh with relief, clinging to that. “I’m so freaking lucky to have you, Selene.” I raise my mug in her honor. “I’ll find a way to pay you back, one day.”
Her grin reaches her eyes. “Once you’re not an omega, we don’t have to worry about this stuff anymore, or any heat cabins.
I’ve always lived as a vagabond, so I’m excited to try out a new life.
Maybe we can find an actual city to settle in, you know?
Even if a gang runs them, at least you won’t be threatened by them anymore—”
The sound of a bell being rung sings through the halls, a call to lunch.
We both down our tea, not really having a purpose here.
Mistress Evans says that once we get settled, we will be given assignments, but we both know we’re not staying long.
For now, we’re just sort of wandering around and being nosy, keeping to ourselves.
Plotting. Ruminating. Sort of like patients, but ones that don’t need to be checked up on.
My clammy hands are one of the many signs that my heat is coming, and I wipe them on the simple brown dress they gave me, matching the one Selene wears.
We pass a notice board with hand drawings pinned to it.
My throat constricts when I see Judge and his buzz cut framed in one.
This isn’t Dominion territory, but shit, I don’t like seeing his face.
Moving my gaze quickly, I frown at Titan, who looks like he’s probably in his forties and has a nose that's been broken multiple times, long blonde curly hair framing him like a mane—leader of Bayou’s Maw.
Then, there’s the Witch Doctor in her mask that lives on the Black Mirage.
Some bounty hunters. A few other alphas of local gangs.
Below that is information on omegas, and what to do if a mating mark is found, like we’re a pet that got out.
Below that is a script about scent matches…
I don’t read further. Fables of mates that are perfect scent matches dig deep, like a cruel joke of what could have been.
Judge has stained the very last bit of hope for me, because I bet now he’s going to give me to the most terrible alpha he has.
Or maybe some old man. Something so against my needs. He’ll punish me, for sure.
I dig my nails into my palm.
It’s so overwhelming that it leaves my mind like it never existed. I simply cannot process it.
The day continues on until we eat our sandwiches in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, until Mistress Evans approaches. A tall, thin woman with graying black hair pinned so tight that not a single strand is out of place. She looks like a scalpel in human form. “How are you both?”
“I’m ready for the cabin, I think,” I say, looking up at her, ignoring the rest of the crowd who watch us with intrigue. “It’s early, but I don’t want to be here for that.”
She gives a mechanical smile I don’t like, not an ounce of its intended warmth reaching her dark, veined eyes. “Of course. I’ll have it stocked this afternoon, and some nurses will be by.” Obsidian eyes slide to Selene. “You’re staying at the watch house?”
“Yes.”
With a formal nod, she departs, more like a shell of a person than someone real. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something I don’t trust about this woman.
Well, all I have to do is survive this next heat, then we can leave.
The day passes without much activity, save for what’s going on in my lower abdomen.
An encroaching heat brings a very distinct bloating, one where my pussy, for lack of a better term, begins to feel rather ready.
Slick starts to line my underwear. I can feel my insides changing so they’ll be ready for days of fucking.
During the heat itself, there’s an ache so deep and primal for the knot of an alpha that I don’t know what I’d do without these drugs.
They subdue it, but even then, all I want is a firm cock to fuck me like it’s my only life source, and then knot inside of me as his cum leaks out, relieving the pain of emptiness.
This time, I feel extremely lonely.
On the walk to the cabin during the early evening, the dirt crunches underfoot as the sound of bugs is our symphony. “I hate breathing out here,” I say, looking at Selene. Her hair is sticking to her face, too.
“This is called humidity.”
“It’s like breathing through a wet rag.”
“I’m from old Florida, so this is pretty doable, honestly. Better than the cold up north. Although this won’t last more than a week, I bet. The air feels cool underneath the humidity.”
I spot the cabin in the distance. It just sits there—still and stagnant.
The warm glow from the windows feels wrong somehow, like the light is lying.
It’s shrouded in tall oaks, almost giving it the sense of a cave.
Some primal part of me tenses. Because I know deep down, as an omega, I’m supposed to crave safety.
Security. My body wants a protector even if my soul rejects the idea of one.
And going into this place in my vulnerable state, alone, is the opposite of a safe decision.
Searching the trees as if I’ll find a reason not to do this, all I see is an eagle perched on the branch of an oak tree, as if it were watching us.
It’s probably got a nest nearby or something.
Facing ahead, I accept I’m probably overthinking everything.
It’s just nature out here, and having no alpha means my body is on edge because it’s his job to keep me safe.
As we’re about to part, Selene pulls in for a hug.
“Ugh, you smell like an omega who is about to go into heat.”
“Really?” I ask, pulling back with concern, slightly sniffing my underarm.
“It’s just up close. The literal heat doesn’t help, either.”
I chuckle lightly at the lame joke before clearing my throat. “I hope this is quick.”
She nods to the smaller cabin nearby. “I’ll be in there, okay? You seem super agitated. You need to just meditate and get through this. I’ll leave food at the door twice a day.”
“Thanks for doing this with me. I know it’ll be boring. And weird.”
Honestly, the horny mess I become is awkward as hell. The only way I’m getting through this is knowing it’s probably my last time.
“Whatever,” she says with a warm smile. “I’ll wander around during the day. Keep patrol. Someone’s gotta. Don’t worry about me.”
Like an alpha would.
The thought makes something twist low in my stomach. My body shivers as I turn toward the cabin, willing myself forward. I hate the way everything feels on edge, and there’s something about this time that feels more primal than before, like it’s more than just fucking.
I actually want an alpha.
I want a scent that smells like home. I want arms I can hide in and a heartbeat I can fall asleep to. And I hate myself for that.
Inside the place is neat and has electricity, with tons of fabrics and pillows for me.
It’s all wrong, though, as I want an alpha to acquire these things for me.
Not Mistress Evans. It’s actually offensive, an aggression coiling inside that I’m not familiar with.
I settle near the radio and flip through until I find music—something strange from a decade called the eighties.
Synth and sorrow. We didn’t have music like this up in the mountains, but we did back home.
It distracts me.
I close my eyes and try to drift to sounds I know nothing about, knowing someone is playing this out there near a radio tower. Society finds a way, and so will I.
But then there’s sound behind the music that doesn’t belong. I frown and turn the volume down, holding my breath.
There it is again.
Definitely a motorcycle.
I click the radio off. Lights too. Darkness settles around me as I creep toward the window, crouching low. Twilight bleeds through the trees, not giving me much light to work with.
But that headlight?
That’s clear.
And the man who gets off the bike? Oh shit… what is he doing here? Does he know?
One thing is for certain—I don’t recognize him at all.