Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Larissa
Ibarely acknowledge my surroundings as I follow General Cohen into the packed conference room where he will address his elite forces.
My world tilts—the hairs at the back of my neck prick to attention. My whole countenance softens before I catch myself, and my back goes ramrod straight.
Ignore it. Ignore him…
My thoughts slam back through time, searching out the memory of the one and only time they allowed me into the interrogation room with an Empire alpha, how it was like waking up from a nightmare to a reality where I could not betray him. One where I remembered I was an omega, not a puppet.
That punishment was the worst I have ever experienced, worse than the time I tried to deceive Cohen. I spent two weeks in a regen tank. My body still bears the scars.
I stumble slightly before I catch myself. Cohen’s eyes are on me, his censure washing over me.
He turns away, centering his thoughts on his speech. Tall, powerful, with a few gray hairs at his temples, Cohen is blessed to be both handsome and charismatic, and he captivates his audience easily from the first words.
Ignore him…
I stand a little to Cohen’s right and behind, a silent observer of those present, my mind churning between Jenda’s plans to experiment on me and her determination that I need to be given over to an alpha, all the while trying to ignore the elephant in the room.
I’m supposed to scour the occupants for any signs of dissent.
Not a chance of that today. If I can get out of here again without blood being spilled, I will consider it a win.
Ignore him…
“…golden era of unprecedented gains…”
Ignore him…
“…and further expansion into the delta sector, where…”
Ignore him…
The finishing of Cohen’s speech shocks me from my rumination.
As per usual, time is provided for the assembled alphas to mingle and converse.
Cohen steps down from the dais to join them, and I follow at his side.
All very civilized on the surface. But alphas don’t mix well in general, and the select crowd tolerates each other at best. Violent challenges and ruthlessness are the accepted norms for progression and promotion—it is their way.
Higher ranks might not engage in physical challenges but turn instead to scheming.
Culturally, the Uncorrupted are essentially thugs, and every man present in the room has committed a wealth of heinous crimes.
Is it like this in the Empire, I wonder, the constant vying and backstabbing?
God, just ignore him…
I have been lost in my churning thoughts again, not realizing that the two alphas Cohen was talking to have moved on.
Feeling his eyes on me, I lift my head. What I see there rattles me.
It’s been many years since I tried to deceive him, but dread coils in my stomach as I worry that something has happened to make him think I am.
Betraying the alpha isn’t an option. No matter the cost, even if it breaks me, even if I end up in the regeneration tank again. I can’t and I won’t.
“I believe you do need rutting through your next heat,” Cohen says, blue eyes narrowing upon me. “You have been acting out of character lately. And today, the moment we stepped into this room, something was different.”
A falling sensation washes over me. I can’t breathe normally. Is he on to me, or merely giving credence to Jenda’s recommendation?
She went over Cohen’s head by sending her report directly to the viral board. Cohen requested a delay from the board. It was granted, and they gave him the final say on when and if I am to be given to an alpha.
IGNORE HIM!
“Maybe it’s time,” he muses. “It is my choice, after all.” His lips narrow into a cruel smile that says he’s enjoying the way my anxiety climbs.
He knows my heat is due imminently. Is this him taking a calculated risk in bringing me here? Perhaps hoping the alpha pheromones clogging the room will trigger me and take the decision out of his hands.
“Are you keen to break me, general?” I ask, trying to shy away from his corrupt mind. “You place me in a room of men whose monstrous minds are open to me.”
“The virus will latch for me soon,” he says.
Bile rises in my throat. It’s not the first time he has made such overtones.
The reason Cohen hasn’t given me to an alpha yet—the real reason, not the fabricated lie he offers to his peers and superiors—is that he wants me for himself.
“I’d like to see you knotted,” he says at length, cheeks darkening in a way that triggers a dull thud at my throat. His depraved desires flood my mind. “I’ve been told omega cunts can take a surprising level of abuse and still need more.”
Wrongness settles over me; this is not a direction our conversation has taken before. Not openly. Denial and fresh dread go to war within me. He took a stronger viral dose a week ago. Did it finally latch? Or is this him giving up?
But no, he’s not an alpha, not now, perhaps never. There are no changes I can discern; he remains a non-dynamic individual who wishes he were more. One who is doomed to forever aspire to be that which he never will, and to grow ever more embittered.
Choose! His mind roars at me.
I jump at the vitriol in his mental tone.
His face, however, maintains a calm facade before his precious people. “Pick someone, Larissa,” he says softly. Eyes taking on a calculating gleam.
IGNORE HIM!!!
I shake my head, my thoughts becoming a wild jumble.
He means it, I realize. His thoughts rest on the anticipation of watching me being fucked. If he can never have me, he wants to see someone else destroy me.
Sweeping his arm over the bountiful offering of elite alphas, he smirks and grits out, “Pick someone, or I will.”
I take an unsteady step back, my eyes darting to the doors and noticing the red light indicating they are locked.
“You have become bolder of late, Larissa. I was hoping to wait until I awakened so that I might be the one to bond with you. But your heat is imminent, and I cannot wait. I need you bonded to an alpha, to any alpha. Now, I will not ask again. Pick someone, or I will let them all have you. I’ve heard rough fucking will trigger a heat. I’m confident any would oblige.”
I swallow hard. None of them. I want none, and yet I must choose.
My eyes shoot to him, the behemoth I’ve been trying to ignore, because if I don’t ignore him, I will betray him.
He is the only genuine alpha in the room.
He is trying to mask his thoughts and focus on things other than his mission.
But he could not possibly guess the darkness that invades an Uncorrupted alpha’s mind, and thus he could never emulate that.
Is he here to save me?
For so long, I harbored that hope. As the years passed, I concluded that, despite the Empire once lauding over my specialness, I am not special at all.
I cannot allow that thought to flourish. One more crushed hope would break me as surely as the alpha I must choose to rut me through my heat.
I try desperately to be objective, but what is there to think about? It’s him or one of the Uncorrupted alphas. I swallow thickly, thinking about Jord and the omega he broke. But even putting Jord’s violence aside, I’ve seen the captive omegas with their dead eyes after they’ve been rutted.
I do not remember such a look during my fleeting time as an omega within the Empire.
He is a little piece of that lost life—a tiny hope.
“That one,” I say. As the words tumble out, I recognize my mistake.
He has been hiding a secret, by keeping his focus on other things. Just how successful he’s been horrifies me, as I realize what he has kept hidden.
His head snaps my way, and the sea of bodies between us fades from my view.
“The omega has spoken,” Cohen says. His voice carries over the hushed gathering. “Her heat is imminent, and the honor of being the first to rut her will be yours.”
I fear I might throw up. The Empire alpha’s thoughts assault me, crashing over me like a giant wave that sends me tumbling, drowning in the horror of what I’ve done.
He is bonded, and his precious mate is pregnant.
His nostrils flare, and his eyes turn pitch black. Beside me, the general chuckles. “I shall enjoy watching the show. Join your chosen alpha.”
Besides his impressive size, the alpha is barely recognizable from the images I’ve seen over the years.
Blond hair, cropped close to his head, is the usual style among the Uncorrupted, where his natural color is dark brown.
Silicone implants to the cheeks, nose, and chin can easily alter facial features.
It was his mate that Jenda experimented on. His mate, whom Jenda lost when he stole her back, and which led to the Uncorrupted doctor’s fall from grace.
As I meet Ethan Black’s eyes, I see naked fury.
As I read his mind, I feel it, tenfold.
The other alphas might well have sought to break me if they’d had me in their hands, but this one will destroy me.