Chapter Nine
Octavia
They had sedated me. Hard.
And implanted language transmitters, according to the ‘doctor.’ The drilling sound had been disgustingly similar to the dentist's, except it was happening behind my ears.
Fear had filled me, and when I had blearily raised my hands, trying to fight off the machine, I had fully blacked out. More of the good drugs, I assumed.
These are my first memories as my eyes flutter open, only to squint to slits in the bright overhead lights. It smells of disinfectant, sharp and overwhelming.
“Easy,” a low, calming voice purrs, sending shivers running throughout my body. I sense my muscles drop, lax, without my thought or intent.
“Don’t worry, wedari, we have you,” the voice says as my hair is brushed back from my face. I sense another being near my feet.
“She’s tiny.” A female voice.
“Yes, as depicted in the animations,” a new voice answers evenly, on my left side this time.
I feel a hand on my arm. I want to push it away, to sit up, but my body is still frozen. My eyes manage to blink open again, still painful in the spotlights. As my mind unfogs, I realize I am butt naked.
I gasp, sitting up and scrambling off the gurney. I immediately fall, my legs unsteady. The giant blue aliens make shocked sounds, but I scramble backward like a crab into the corner, not at all worried about my body being on display. All I can think of is to get farther away from them.
Backed into the corner of the room, I cover my breasts with one arm, my other hand on the cool, stone-like floor. My eyes dart around as my heart pounds. The tailed aliens stand around the metal bed under the exam lights, and a big winged alien is on the other side of the room.
The three that stand closer to me look positively horrified. The guy with wings clears his throat. “Here is a blanket. Since her vitals look alright, I’ll leave you to it...”
Well, the implants work unless they speak perfect English here across the galaxy.
The one alien with horns that look like deer antlers squats down, his hand held out to me.
Like I was a stray dog.
My chest tightens, my heart pounding harder.
“Easy, little one,” he says in a deep, silky voice. “We’re your pack.”
I press further into the corner, eyes searching for my inhaler.
The alien that is slender and the color that I remember the ocean to be, on our family vacations on the Florida coasts, kneels next to the other, holding the blanket out.
“Come here, omega,” she demands, though her voice is soft.
I know an order when I hear one.
I don’t move.
My breath becomes wetter and harder. I scan the room again, searching for my bag. Nothing.
I give up, finally, saying pathetically, “Please, I can’t breathe.”
Deer-antlers stands, striding toward the door.
“She should be alright in our atmosphere,” the woman says, more to herself.
“Oh, fuck,” the third, another male, curses from where he stands, hand on the gurney.
“Her chronic disorder. The paperwork stated she’d be coming with human medication.
” He turns just as the winged guy comes back into the room.
“What does it look like, sweetheart?” the blue-gray alien with chiseled cheekbones asks urgently.
I realize he’s got my bag from the prison and is pawing through it.
“Blue. Inhaler.”
The winged guy comes over as the woman protectively throws the blanket over me.
“This?” the third blue male asks, holds up my inhaler, his small horns tilted and worry clear on his face.
I nod, and he hurries to me. I snatch it out of his huge hand and inhale two puffs quickly.
When my chest starts to loosen, I take a third hit.
My breathing slows, as does my frantically pounding heart.
I catch a whiff of pumpkin pie and I frown, incredibly confused.
A side effect of being split into a billion pieces and zapped across the universe?
Winged guy is holding a device to my wrist as I breathe slowly.
“Her heart is beating fast for a human, but otherwise, her vitals seem fine now.”
Deer-antlers answers, face obviously displeased, “Great. I suppose you can go, unless there is other information we should have about our omega?”
Do aliens do sarcasm? Seems like a yes.
Meanwhile, the chiseled one who had handed me my inhaler stays squatting near me.
His intent gray eyes stare into mine. “I am Ziam,” he says, his short blue hair messy in an attractive, beachy way.
“I am your charax. And you are Omega Octavia Endral.” He smiles in a manner probably intended to be kind and reassuring; but I see his unnaturally pointed teeth and press myself back.
Their vowels are soft, the language lilting, and if I wasn’t so terrified, I’d probably be able to think of what accent it reminds me of.
His face drops a bit at my reaction, but he clears his throat and continues, “This is Lux. She is our ebondenn. And Atiox is our first, our aleron. We are your pack now, sweetheart.”
Lux smiles and her loose shirt with a wide neckline, surely to get over those huge curled horns of hers, droops low. The curve of one of her small breasts is visible and I jerk my gaze away.
“Octavia, we shall protect you.” She nods, as if to herself. “We will bring you to your new home, and you can outfit your nest, and we will begin your training.” She smiles, holding out her hand.
“T—training?” I wobble out, my head feeling funny.
Chiseled guy—I mean Ziam—nods. “Yes, while you are an omega, your tiny human body is not ready to accept a Celnoe cock in your ass and cunt. Certainly not at the same time,” he says, voice friendly and easy. As if he were informing me of the weather.
I lean farther away, head pressed to the wall as my heart thunders. Stars sparkle in my vision.
The deer antlered guy, Atiox, I remember, crouches down, long black hair sliding smoothly over his shoulders, his face clearly shocked. “She’s not well.”
“She’s just overwhelmed. These bright lights, alphas not of her pack,” Ziam says, “Let’s take her home.”
As they stand, my eyes flutter closed, and blackness surrounds me.