by Sara Fields
Rough
Sara Fields
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Afterword
Books of the Alpha Brotherhood Series
Books of the Omegaborn Trilogy
Books of the Vakarran Captives Series
Books of the Captive Brides Series
Books of the Terranovum Brides Series
Sci-Fi and Paranormal Romances by Sara Fields
Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Sara Fields
More Stormy Night Books by Sara Fields
About the Author
Copyright © 2021 by Stormy Night Publications and Sara Fields
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Fields, Sara
Rough
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Depositphotos/shalunx13 and iStock/Antagain
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Chapter 1
Ariana
Cold.
I was so cold that I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
Unbearable icy cold settled deep into the marrow of my bones. A hard shiver raced down my spine as I sat on the small cot and curled into an even tighter ball in order to preserve any semblance of warmth through my tired limbs. I wound my arms around my knees at the same time that my stomach growled angrily in protest. I didn’t remember when I’d last eaten anything. A woman groaned near me and I looked around at the assortment of captive omegas all inside this dank wet cell with me.
In time, each one of us would be taken to be washed, poked, and prepared for sale. We’d be put up on stage in a cage for the highest bidder in order to raise funds for the enemy’s war.
Upon my capture, they’d stripped me of my clothes so that I had nothing with which to fight back. No weapons. No hidden blades.
Nothing.
The walk from Ravenrath to Kingsworth had taken more than a week by my estimation, but it had been difficult to tell because we were so far underground. I missed the warmth of the sun on my skin. All I’d felt was icy cold and moist air ever since and for some reason now it felt even worse.
I rubbed my left wrist. It was incredibly sore, and it hurt even more when I put pressure on it. I angled my arm just enough to catch what dim light was cast off by the torch some ways away and sucked in a gasp at what I saw. There was a small purple bruise and something of a round cut that was indicative of a sloppy blood draw.
They must have sedated us overnight and taken it without any of us knowing. What could they be looking for? They knew we were omegas, women destined to succumb to instinct that demanded they spread their legs for the nearest alpha. What more did they need to know than that terrible fate?
The clink of a steel-toed boot on stone rang out like a gunshot deep down here in the near-silence, catching me off guard. Chewing my lip, I lifted my gaze enough so that my eyes would still be hooded by my thick frame of eyelashes. I didn’t want them to know I was watching and waiting, looking for any hint of their identities or whatever else I could learn.
There were two of them dressed in blood-red robes. With the hoods up, I couldn’t quite see their faces. I studied their gait closely, recognizing the particular roll of a foot of one of the usual guards that had attended us for the past several days. It must be time to change shifts.
“I just can’t believe Borgan is dead,” one of them said, while the other scoffed in disbelief.
“It was about time for leadership to move, I think. That old man sat on the throne for almost sixty years already. He’d grown frail and weak,” he answered.
“That’s true. It leaves a little room for us to finally move up the chain, I guess.”
“What a way to go though, isn’t it? Eating a celebratory dinner at the delivery of a fresh set of highly profitable omegas, opening a fancy old bottle of wine, and dropping dead right in your plate of mashed potatoes and butter.”
One of the men snorted with laughter.
“I’d rather die with my cock sunk deep in some omega pussy.”
The laughter grew louder, and I heard the telltale sloshing of a liquid. I squinted my eyes and the man laughing was sipping something out of a metal pint glass. Probably beer or mead.
“Yeah, that would be a way to go, wouldn’t it.”
They were silent for a moment as they enjoyed their booze.
“What do you think of the new king? The one they’ll be crowning tonight?”
“Magnar? He’s strong and in his prime. They say he’s a warrior.”
“Is he now…”
“Yes. There’s a scar across his left cheek from someone that tried to kill him in his sleep. Rumor has it Magnar threw the man out a window and he screamed all the way down until he hit the rock below. When the sun rose in the morning, the rock was covered with the assassin’s blood.”
“I’d heard rumors that he was vicious. He’ll be a ruthless king and that’s exactly what Kingsworth needs.”
“Borgan has known peace for ages. He was never a king to act. He always sat back and just let things happen.”
“Not this new king. The Alpha Brotherhood will learn that Magnar is a man to be feared. He’s the kind of ruler that will destroy that blemish on society once and for all.”
“Cheers to that.”
The clinking of one metal cup against another rang loudly and the women all around me began to stir.
“It’s about time to get her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. The beauticians will complain if they don’t get at least ten hours with her and I’ll be the one to hear all about their suffering.”
“Can I at least finish my mead first?”
“I plan on finishing mine.”
I licked my lips. I hadn’t known the old king had died. He’d still been a figure at the head of the city when I’d allowed myself to be captured by the enemy more than a week ago. This could change things for me.
The two guards continued to murmur about more mundane things and I only half-listened for any relevant information, but I learned nothing more useful from the two buffoons.
Instead, I started looking around me at the women clustered into small groups. Every one of them had the distinctive omega structure. Small, thin, curvy, and beautiful. Some were brunette. There were a number of redheads and several blondes mixed in. I scanned every visible wrist I could see, taking note of the fact that all of them had markings like mine. The Cult had taken blood from all of us.
They were looking for something, likely testing all of us.
The guards cleared their throats. They’d finished their drinks and had since moved to the door of the cage.
“Back from the door. We’re here for only one of you,” the one on the left said.
“You. Blue eyes. Blonde hair,” the other said, and he pointed right at me.
My mouth opened in surprise, but I knew better than to answer. The Cult was a man’s world, and they didn’t expect a woman, especially an omega, to talk back. I stood up bravely and walk
ed a bit shakily to the door of the cage. They turned the key in the latch and the harsh squeal of metal screamed all around us as they opened the door. I started a bit at the sound, but I recovered quickly as they reached forward and grabbed my wrist roughly. I was unable to keep myself quiet as his dirty fingers dug into the bruised flesh of my arm, and he grinned wildly with a deviant sense of pride.
“This one is a prize,” he chuckled, and the man with him stiffened.
“I know,” the other answered.
“What if we just played around with her a bit. No one would know,” he continued.
“Even if you wanted her, you couldn’t afford her, you fucking numbskull. Touch her and sign your own death warrant,” the guard scoffed with annoyance.
“I know. Nice to dream though. I bet her slick will smell real good,” he grunted, and I had to force back a shudder of revulsion.
“Let’s just get her where she needs to be.”
“Where are you taking me?” I ventured bravely, but meekly enough not to pose a challenge.
“You’ll find out soon,” the guard answered, and they whisked me away, naked and barefoot out of the dungeons of Kingsworth.
Hours later, I’d been washed, shaved, and anointed with several different kinds of fragrant oils. My hair had been trimmed and styled carefully. My face had been painted with rouge and powders, giving me a soft glow that I’d never experienced before. By the time the stylists were through with me, I felt like a new woman. My blonde hair shone so brightly that it was nearly white. The colors around my eyes played up my icy blue irises, the ones I’d inherited from my father.
The Ghost. The leader of the Alpha Brotherhood. The man who sent me here to Kingsworth with the sole mission of infiltrating and identifying members of the Cult.
I tried to talk to the servants assisting me, but they shook their heads. I continued trying to ask questions, and one of them finally tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head and watched as she opened her mouth.
A cold chill of shock raced down my spine.
The Cult had cut out her tongue. I hadn’t known.
I swallowed heavily and apologized profusely. She shook her head and smiled softly, silently telling me that I hadn’t offended her. I didn’t ask any more questions after that.
When I was finally ready, the woman brought me a silky dress that she wrapped around my body. It was the same color blue as my eyes, and I felt rather ethereal in it as she tied it around my waist. She knelt down and slipped a pair of dark blue ballet flats onto my feet. Finally, she opened a velvet box and took out a silver necklace. With a soft sigh, she stood behind me and clasped it around my neck.
I looked back in the mirror, studying the way the glimmering icy blue stone caught the light. I looked like a princess. Any other woman would have been happy to be primped and prodded like this, but I felt like I was being prepared for slaughter.
Maybe I was.
The Cult had taken me and now they were preparing me for my buyer. From what we knew about the Cult, omegas were prepared in batches and auctioned off to a number of alpha men. I’d never heard of a single woman being taken like this and my guard was raised because of it.
Whatever was coming for me, I would be ready. I thanked the servants that had readied me and bowed my head in deference. They smiled back at me and I heard the door open behind me. Their grins faltered and they rushed back to work. I turned my head and took in three masked figures. The masks were simple, painted black wood indicative of the Cult of the Blood Moon. These three had a few decorative elements though, the most obvious being the dark red ruby in the middle of the mask’s forehead, as well as white war paint on the cheeks and around the gemstone. The fabric of their robes was elegant and likely very expensive as well.
These three were important and they’d come to retrieve me.
They kept a triangular formation as they approached me. I noted one had green eyes, one had brown eyes, and the one at the center had two different colored irises, one blue and the other brown. As they walked, I tried to discern anything unique about their gaits because I couldn’t see their faces. The one with brown eyes rolled his right ankle. I’d have to watch that one even more closely.
“She sure cleans up beautifully. She’ll be a worthy gift,” the man with the multicolored eyes murmured. He stood at the center of the configuration, leading me to believe that he was likely the leader.
“Dinner will begin soon. We should hurry this along,” green eyes offered.
“He will certainly be pleased. If his new rank doesn’t make him happy, this pretty omega certainly will,” brown eyes declared.
“Indeed,” the center man replied. “Come now, it’s time. You will follow us.”
They turned to walk out of the room, and I did as I was told. For a moment, I fought with the instinct to run. I knew better though. I was at the center of a Cult stronghold. If I tried to escape, it wouldn’t be long before I was caught and running wasn’t what I was sent here to do. I was here to learn, to observe, and to gather as much information about the enemy as I could.
So, I followed. I didn’t know if I was walking to my death or into the cruel hands of one of the top members of the Cult. I observed my surroundings as I walked, taking in the opulence and luxury all around me. From the handwoven carpets beneath my feet to the intricately embroidered tapestries on the walls and windows, everything screamed ancient wealth. Some of the curtains were drawn, but a few were open, allowing the sunlight to stream in. When we passed one, I deliberately slowed my steps to take in the view.
Kingsworth spread out all around us for miles. It appeared we were at the center of the city and as I studied the lands a bit more closely, I realized that I could only be in one place.
I was in one of the upper towers of the castle.
The cultist with brown eyes turned back.
“Don’t dawdle, omega,” he warned. He turned away briskly and that’s when I noticed something very particular about the way he walked. It was as if he was hiding a limp. I watched him more closely as I picked up my pace, noticing that on occasion that he forgot to conceal whatever old injury it was. Beneath the robes, he was hiding an injured left knee.
The other two didn’t show any distinctive traits that I could tell other than the color of their eyes.
They led me into a grand room, and at once I was taken with the thick fur carpets. I lifted my eyes to peruse the fine oil paintings along the walls depicting warriors on the battlefield and royalty in fancy robes, and that’s when a man cleared his throat.
At the center of the room was a menacing throne built of what appeared to be human bones and gigantic ivory elephant tusks. It was a terrifying sight, but not nearly as scary as the man standing next to it.
He was the biggest man I’d ever seen. I didn’t even have to scent the air to tell that he was an alpha. Instead, his aroma called to me. Without warning, my heart beat harder and the blood pumping through my veins rushed even faster. I swallowed, trying to rein in my body’s response as much as I could.
Forest green irises bored into mine, capturing me in their intensity and holding me captive. I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried. His jawline tensed and I took note of the thick beard covering his face. His hair was dark chocolate and tied back in a ponytail. The sides of his scalp were shaved bare, revealing dark black tattoos that signified the mark of a battle-hardened warrior. There was a series of black notches that disappeared underneath the heavy furs around his shoulders, marks that signified every man that he’d killed himself.
I recognized the pelts he wore on his thick, muscled frame. They originated from far north, fearsome wolves large enough to eat a man whole. Once men, they were rumored to have once shifted under the light of the moon and never returned to their human form. Their furs were exceedingly rare. Many men died trying to claim the riches that came with the sale of one. This man was wearing several whole ones himself.
I swallowed heavily, fearing him already. H
e cocked his head to the side, studying me intently, and I held my head high, forcing myself to appear as though I was unafraid and undaunted by his menacing appearance. He smirked slightly, as if he could read my thoughts, and I narrowed my eyes at him in challenge.
“What is this?” he asked. He sounded annoyed.
His voice was like butter and my nipples pebbled almost instantly. I hoped that they wouldn’t show through the thin fabric of the dress. The attendants hadn’t given me a bra or panties to wear, forcing me to be exceedingly aware of my nakedness beneath it.
“A gift for you, Magnar. A proper gift for an alpha that is to be crowned as king of our magnificent city,” the center Cultist offered boldly.
The king glared at me for a long moment before he turned away.
“I did not ask for a wife,” he growled.
I don’t know why, but his rejection made the air rush out of my lungs. A cold simmering feeling rolled in my belly and I made myself stand tall. I took a deep shaky breath and glared back at him. I don’t know why, but it hurt.
“It is a gift from me, my king,” the bicolored Cultist offered.
Magnar sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze returned to me. He pointedly looked me up and down, pausing rather arrogantly at my chest and at the cusp of my hips.
“Omegas make alphas weak,” he spat. His glare deepened and I couldn’t shake the feeling in my chest that not only did he not want me, but he was also disgusted by me.
“This is not just any omega, sire. She is much rarer than that. She is a sigma,” the man explained.
