Skye
Meeting your mates is supposed to be world-changing.
Your life collapses in front of your very eyes and rebuilds itself on the knots of your mates, or something like that.
Nothing has improved so far, though, not whilst I am trapped under Anna's steely thumb, pressed into the dirt. She knows something has changed, and is making sure I regret every second that I spent causing her problems now. On top of the stress caused by her treatment, my body is still trying to yo-yo between pre-heat and not, trying to draw my mates in with perfume even when they’re probably miles away from me now.
Not only am I dealing with guards who are more than happy to beat me if they think I need it, but now I have painful cramping and mood swings, too.
It’s only the first night. The auction ended hours ago, and the facility is quiet as I’m marched between two enormous Beta guards towards the heat and holding cells.
Ohhh, solitary, we’re going straight for the big guns tonight.
Freezing tiles echo the sound of my bare feet padding, though it's almost drowned out by the heavy boot stomps of the guards, and I cringe at the blooming purple marks where they’ve already stepped on me, and I’m fairly certain at least one of my toes is broken.
Howling beneath my skin, my wolf is pacing the cage of my mind, calling for hot blood between our jaws.
Meanwhile, my Omega is curled in a corner, whimpering for a nest and our mates.
I’ve not had a nest since I entered the auctions five years ago now, so I’m not really sure what she’s expecting.
Maybe one day. In the vicious tug of war in my mind, I am a dinghy on the wild waves, playing submissive until an opportunity comes up.
Anna had thrust me at these two men with the demands that I not be violated and no marks that couldn’t be covered by makeup or clothing…
That still left so much skin, though, so many places to hurt, and you can’t see broken bones either.
Aside from the stinging cheeks from slaps, my face is still mercifully intact, but the rest is not so lucky.
My ribs are starting to show a kaleidoscope of bruises, and I am proud to admit that only a single sob escaped during the first beating, and how much I prayed that my pack would turn up next week, or that someone—anyone—would bid on me.
Would the pack care about damaged merchandise?
If their Omega arrived a little tenderized?
My eyes close as exhaustion starts to settle in, but the worry is overbearing.
I feel bare and vulnerable since they stripped the beautiful dress from me, but I still sag as my legs struggle to hold me, and the guards haul me forward with angry grunts.
My mind is thankfully a hundred miles away, drifting to two handsome big Alphas and imagining what the rest of their pack looks like.
Maybe another big beefcake of a man? Oh, maybe another Omega?
I always wonder how double Omega packs work, but maybe it would be nice to share a nest with someone.
Hmm, a wave of insecurity takes that thought with it.
What if they have a supermodel Omega already?
I wouldn’t fit in well, I don’t think. I hope the rest of them aren’t built with abs to grate cheese on, for once, I’d like an Alpha to be a little less Alpha-y.
Young Omegas dream of scent matches; they’re rare as it is.
But sitting in class after you’ve just had your first heat, or perfumed for the first time, you imagine how your pack will be built, at least until real life hits and you realize how shitty Alphas can really be, how their only goal is to bind you and use you as a sweet little knot warmer and baby maker.
Not for me. Not now, not ever. The only good thing about them is that pulling the wool over their eyes is easy, and all I need is to get them to take me away from here so I can escape into the forest and happily live off-grid.
Huffing in pain as I am finally dropped on the tiles, I play my part here.
They strip the last of my clothing, my plain underwear, dumping it in the trash before standing me up again and cold hosing me down.
All those hours spent with Cassie doing my hair and makeup, and they are just going to jet wash me.
Pounding with pain, my ribs don’t take kindly to the pressure of the water, and I try to redirect the spray away, but the fucking sadist keeps rerouting it and moving around me to make sure he is blasting me straight on.
His buddy to the side is letting his eyes devour me, lip pulled between his teeth as he takes in my naked body.
Nausea catches in my throat as he lingers over my bare thighs and up to the delicate crown tattoo above my pubic bone.
“Making a statement, princess pussy?”
His tone sends chills from head to toe, but I hide it with a half shrug, “Everyone is an unruly teenager once.” I meant to get it covered at some point, but the time just never felt right, and then Dad shipped me off.
Maybe with a pack, I could? Shaking that thought away, I pull my mind back to the present, despite its persistent attempts to be anywhere but here.
“You ever taken a knot?” His rank stale cigarette musk makes me gag as he pushes into my space, blocking the exits, his reach long enough that if I bolt, I’ll barely make it a few steps.
“Nope, saving myself for the right Alpha and all y’know?
” I’m not exactly lying. I’ve slept with Alphas, but I’ve never taken a knot.
Too much risk is involved in being tied to someone for any length of time, especially if they have BCE—Big Cardinal Energy.
I’ve heard horror stories about them staying locked for hours.
I think that maybe the Beta will leave it alone after that, but it only seems to feed his little fantasies.
Knotting is an enigma to most Betas; they struggle to take one without the stretchy Omega anatomy, even with training, though I’ve heard that Alphas don’t often enjoy it either.
Keeping my eyes respectfully down turned, I try to edge away slightly and dodge the hand reaching for my cheek.
With a spitting curse, fingers squeeze into the softness of my flesh, pressing until my lips part.
My damn fangs are pressing into the insides, and I have to consciously fight the shift now that the pain and tiredness are encroaching on my self-control.
Hot breath blasts me as he leans in close, sniffing as my alcoholic scent turns to sour ethanol, with the edge of fear screaming to get away from him by any means possible.
I have to get away from this place before one of them kills me, or worse.
Clicking heels along the corridor draws the guard's attention, and I take my chance.
Shaking my head sharply to dislodge his grip, I sink my fangs right into the soft pad of his palm and tear a chunk of meat straight off as I dart under his arm.
Anna blocks the way back, and it leaves my only option to scamper into the cell behind us, where the heavy door slams and locks behind me to the sound of the Beta throwing his weight against it.
“Get out here, you useless cunt!” He roars, battering at the door again.
Fear tugs at me, pulling a high-pitched whining from my throat, echoing in the sterile cube whilst I curl around my cold, wet body in the corner.
Jingling keys sound outside, and I bury my face into my knees, hoping that I won’t see the punishment coming at least. Tears bead on my lashes, bracing for the barrier between us to open, “Wait until I get in there, Omega. I’ll make you appreciate a good Beta cock in every hole, you—“
“Mister Russell, is there a problem?” I never thought I’d be so grateful to hear the queen bitch speak, but my shoulders slump ever so slightly as I hear the Alpha bark.
The worst she would do is beat me again, and the pain doesn’t scare me so much.
“I assume you are not going to disobey my orders? Or shoot my stock?”
Shoot? He has a gun?!
How stupid can I possibly be? I can’t escape this place; they’d shoot me as soon as I tried. I would have died tonight on the floor out there if Anna hadn’t rerouted my panicked run.
“Of course not,” Russell huffs outside the door, the keys quieting, “I just wanted to scare her.” Fucking lies. He would have shot me and enjoyed every second of it.
“She will be punished for the damage caused, don’t worry. Especially since I’ll need to arrange new security now,” Anna says, voice level, “You are warned that this one is feisty, but don’t worry, she’ll be out of our hair by next week.”
The little letterbox window slides open, and I watch her eyes appear through the gap, dragging over me. Narrowing her gaze, she slides it shut again, and I shake as I crawl closer to listen to them.
“What idiot is crazy enough to take her? She’ll have their throat out in their sleep if she isn’t chained up or locked away.
” Russell is growling softly, and I hope like hell that his hand is even half the pain over my broken toes, and he is losing blood.
I don’t think I did enough damage to lose the hand, but I keep everything crossed that a little nerve damage and loss of movement will pain him for the rest of his days.
Though his words make me think of Fury, the way his eyes widened as he smiled, and I scent-marked myself against him.
Atlas and his cute blush and stormy eyes, and however many other pack mates they have.
Did they talk about me tonight when they went home?
Have they passed my scent around and felt the pull of a scent match, or did they ignore the draw for the trouble they knew I’d come with?
I hadn’t exactly made myself the easiest person to get along with in the bar.
Part of me so desperately wants it, my Omega needs it, my wolf lives for a pack to run with during the moon, but I couldn’t stand to be a trophy as my mother had been.
Watching her fall into line like a good little Omega, giving up everything she loved and worked for, to be at the beck and call of her Alpha and the pitter-patter of tiny feet.
My grandmother would be tossing in her grave at the sight.
She is where my wolf came from, and she had her pack at her feet, worshiping her, though only her and Grandaddy Ward were left when I came around, and my parents didn’t like me spending time with them at all.
Scoffing quietly, I rub my arms and wonder if they wished they’d sent me to her when they could, and made me her problem.
At least I might actually know what the hell being a shifter entails.
Anna’s sharp laugh from outside makes me flinch as she cackles, a wholly unpleasant sound that echoes in the long, sterile corridors, “Oh no, she’s going to the perfect home.
” Straining to hear, I listen for the name of whoever seems to be perfect for me.
Would Fury’s pack even afford the entry fee?
She continues before I can let the thought break me apart even further, “I’m sure you’ve heard that Butcher’s latest Omega has gone missing.
That's the third one this year, but he’s on the hunt for another, and he so does love them with a bit of fight.
Made him a nice little deal to take her off our hands, paperwork all included, so it’s nice and legitimate looking for the upper management.
All the regulars have been warned off bidding for her, so it’ll funnel her straight to him. ”
Butcher. Vincent Butcher. The blood drains from my face, the shivering starting in earnest, though it’s nothing to do with the cold.
This is a name that struck fear into Omegas in this awful place.
He’s purchased countless numbers over the years, and three whilst I have been here, only to return a couple of months later claiming they’d gone ‘missing.’ Nobody here cared as long as he kept pouring funds into the system, and nobody ever heard from them again. And I am his next little victim.