Chapter 2
There are two kinds of alphas here in the Zone. Those of the Central Ruins live in the middle of the Zone, in the regions around the ancient city that contains the Temple of the life-giving Source.
The Farlanders, however, are a different breed.
Over the generations, criminal alphas were exiled from the tribe and forced to live on the outskirts of the Zone, out near the Wall.
The power of the Source is weaker out there, and with time the Farlanders became twisted, both in body and in mind.
It’s said they eat betas to survive. Some of them even eat other alphas.
What they do to omegas, I’d rather not say.
The one standing in front of me looks like something that crawled up out of the depths of the earth.
Wet clay has been smeared all over his body and left to dry into a flaky, gray-brown skin.
His face is even worse. The mud has been laid on thick, obliterating almost everything human about it.
It fills the hollows of his cheeks and has crusted around his nostrils.
His mouth is nothing but a dark fissure.
Only his eyes seem alive, wet and bright beneath the cracked mud.
I turn and look back at the three young alphas who were chasing me.
They’ve come to a halt a few paces behind where I’m sitting. Their eyes are every bit as wide as my own, and they only get wider as more figures emerge from the depths of the forest.
Source, there must be a dozen or more, all of them slathered in mud like their leader, all of them reeking of the same putrid scent.
Their weapons are primitive, even by Zone standards—little more than sharpened sticks, really—but they look deadly enough, and they are pointed at me and the three young alphas.
The leader laughs: a dark, ugly sound.
“Looks like we caught ourselves an omega, boys…” His nostrils flare as he takes my scent. “And a ripe one at that.”
He’s technically wrong: I may be grown, but I still haven’t gotten my first estrus yet. Then again, these Farlanders probably have a different definition of ripe.
I spring to my feet and slowly walk back to the three young alphas. Not that they’ll be able to offer me much protection. I suddenly feel awful for getting them into this mess.
Getting yelled at by my daddies is one thing.
Getting brutalized by Farlanders is something else entirely.
“You should run for it,” I tell them under my breath. “It’s me they want.”
“No, omega. We won’t leave you.”
I appreciate the young alphas’ chivalry, but I doubt their ability to live up to it. Even in single combat, they would be no match for these big Farlanders. And outnumbered four to one? No chance.
Not that it makes much difference, I suppose. The Farlanders clearly have no intention of letting any of us get away. They have us surrounded. No matter which way we turn, a spearpoint blocks our escape.
The leader steps in close, getting right up in my space. His breath is rotten meat.
“What are you little pups doing out here in the woods alone?”
I don’t answer. Neither do the young alphas.
The Farlander sneers.
“Looking for someplace to do a bit of rutting, I reckon. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Ain’t that right, boys?”
His underlings chuckle in agreement.
“Come here,” the leader says. “Let me get a good whiff of you.”
I stiffen as he grabs me by the arms and leans in close to snuffle me.
One of the young alphas steps forward with a snarl of challenge, but a spear tip presses against his throat, stopping his advance.
The flesh dimples around the sharpened point.
Just a little more pressure, and he would be in a world of hurt.
The leader looks at him and grins.
“Don’t worry, lad. We aren’t gonna kill you. Not ’til we’ve finished having our way with the omega, leastways. You’ll get a chance to watch everything. Behave yourselves, and we might even let you have a go at her before you die.”
Then he lifts a handful of my hair, sniffs it.
“Smells sweet,” he says. “Better’n that Farlander cunt we’re used to.”
The others rumble with excitement.
The leader draws a knapped stone dagger from a sheath on his hip and raises it to my chest. One by one, he snips the laces holding the front of my top together. When the last one goes, the top bursts open, and my naked breasts spill free. His eyes get big.
“Oh yeah,” the leader says. “Real ripe.”
He brushes the flat of the stone blade over my skin, letting the tip graze my exposed nipple. The flesh stiffens, even though I don’t want it to.
“You like that, don’t you? Bet you’ll like this even better.”
He begins lowering his face toward my chest.
A howl splits the forest.
The Farlanders all swing around in the direction of the call. I take advantage of the momentary distraction to drive my knee up into the center of the leader’s loincloth. Hard. He emits a sound that’s halfway between a cough and a whimper.
More howls. Closer now.
“Alphas!” one of the Farlanders shouts.
“We’d best run,” another says. “Omega ain’t worth dyin’ over.”
The leader is doubled over, clutching his groin. He glares at me through a grimace of pain.
“Guess this is your lucky day,” he snarls.
He nods to his men, and they scatter, fleeing back into the shadows from whence they came. It would seem the Farlanders’ cruelty is only exceeded by their cowardice. They only pick fights they know they can win.
Their retreat is timely. No sooner has the last one disappeared from sight than the other alphas arrive. Real alphas.
Beside me, one of the young males lets out a little laugh of surprise.
“Only three?” he whispers. “Source, there must have been about twelve Farlanders, and they ran away from only three alphas?”
“They made the right choice,” I tell him.
Of course, I’m a little biased. These new arrivals are my three daddies. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see them in my life.
Knar is the leader of the pack, all hard angles and harder muscle. His hair is silvered with maturity, and his square jaw is lined with stubble to match. His stern, gray eyes seem permanently narrowed beneath the metal studs piercing his brow.
Bjor is next. He’s the biggest of the three, and considerably softer than his pack leader, though that extra padding can be deceptive.
There’s still plenty of muscle hiding underneath.
A thick beard frames a face that would look fearsome were it not for the warm brown eyes peering out from it. A heavy ring pierces his nose.
And last, there’s Renn, the youngest of the three, though he’s still a good ten years older than I am.
He’s built leaner than the others, long and lithe, and he moves with a grace that’s unusual for an alpha.
A metal ring gleams at the corner of his mouth, drawing attention to the cocky little smirk he usually wears—though he isn’t wearing it now.
He looks concerned. They all do.
Knar comes striding up to me first. “Eri, are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” I answer, my voice trembling. That’s partly because I’m still flustered from the attack.
And partly because of Knar.
His storm-colored eyes are brimming with worry, but I can see the silent lightning of reproach flickering within. What were you doing out here, Eri? those eyes seem to say. What the hell were you doing?
“You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
“I promise.”
His eyes dip to my chest, seemingly without meaning to, and the pupils dilate. I remember that my breasts are exposed. I quickly cover them, fumbling with the slashed laces of my top as I attempt to tie it shut again. Knar averts his eyes.
“You three,” he says, talking to the younger alphas. “I don’t know where you came from, but I recommend you scurry on back there now.”
“Y-yes, sir,” the eldest of the three stammers. “T-thank you s—”
“Now!”
The word is a bark, and it sets the young alphas running, almost as fast as the Farlanders before them. Renn watches them go with a smirk. Bjor just shakes his bearded head and laughs.
And Knar… Knar just scowls.
“If you’re going to hang around with alphas,” he says, “you could at least pick some who are capable of protecting you.”
“That’s why I have you.”
The sugar in my voice has no effect.
“Don’t be cute, Eri. That could have turned out very badly. You’re lucky we showed up when we did.”
“I can explain—oh!”
Before I have a chance to spout off an excuse, my pack leader lifts me off the ground and slings me over one massive shoulder. He growls.
“Oh, you’ve got some explaining to do, young lady, but we’re gonna save the excuses for a safer location. I suggest you use this time to think long and hard about what you’re going to say.”
But all I can think about is what’s going on in my tummy.
The butterflies are back, and it feels like they’re breeding.