Rae tries to move, but as she opens her eyes, the hell that is her life comes rushing back to her in sharp fragments. Now alert and frantic, she scans the sterile surgical room, pulling her wrists against the locks that bind them.
Most days, she sits in a compact room, designed for a young omega and more comfortable than living in a hut somewhere on the outside. Today was her monthly inspection to make sure her mechanisms were working correctly.
Lying against the cold, rigid table, Rae’s back bows forward, nerves on fire. With the doctor’s prod pressed against her labia, she extends her neck and swallows.
She hates this part.
The first thing she thinks to ask is for her medication. The needles that brought her painless sleep are the omega’s only friends. After years of practice, she knows the exact threshold it takes to get her hooked.
So she rides the line. Whenever she can, she chooses the painless way out. Unfortunately, now’s now that time to speak up.
The doctor, a frighteningly thin man in his late fifties, swivels his head to check the reading on the machines. Rae’s eyes follows his, widening as a sequenced set of tones reverberate around him. As soon as he sees the data, he groans in approval.
Rae is aware of the thin cotton dress that ends above her thighs, but with her wrists bound, there is no way she can force it to cover her most sensitive areas.
The alpha doctor eyes her naked mound, grinning to himself.
Not to make a fuss—this procedure is just a routine exercise for a slave omega, but she really hates the idea of more prodding.
Rae looks up and beyond the doctor. She hates this place, too. The floors are almost always damp with urine, and the metal pipes are covered with rust. It’s unnatural.
“It will just be a cold pinch, and a—”
Deeply inhaling, the doctor thrusts the metal rod upward. Though Rae braces for it, the sharp prodding leaves her broken and breathless on the table.
The doctor raises his eyes, deeply circling the ovulation-reader into her pussy. “As you may be aware, the birthing trials have yet to be…successful.”
“I’ve heard the crying, yes,” Rae says, eyes glazing over with tears.
She thought she had gotten used to the painful shrieks of grief, but every time she hears the omega’s crying, she wants to claw her eyes out.
They sound just like her.
As the doctor pulls the wand out, Rae listens to the reading tone that beeps near the slick screen.
“Do you spend time talking with the other omegas?” he asks.
Rae lifts her head. “What does it say? The reading. I’d like to know.”
The doctor looks down at the machine, pauses, and hesitates. “Do you talk to the other women? It’s important we log everything in order to understand your recent changes,” he says.
Rae’s heart sinks with guilt. “It’s easy to hear the others. Our rooms are connected,” she says.
To Rae, all of this makes perfect sense. The omegas are lucky—in a sense, the luckiest of everyone throughout history. When the world began to crack, the institutions were the first to fall.
By that time, the people welcomed the fall of the Republic. Those who could give birth were chosen to bear the fruit. Powerful alpha warriors, slave traders with the tattooed marking of the Ouroboros took the omegas. It was their job to repopulate the world, but other things became more important.
Rae was an asset to their leader, Cassian, but there was considerable worry about whether the sperm would take to her.
She hears the others speak about it.
An omega needs an alpha’s knot to become pregnant. But if he can’t give her that, there is no hope for the planet.
Cassian won’t admit it, but he has trouble knotting. A great shame, no doubt.
That terrible alpha invaded her village. Torched the place to ashes. Rae remembers a lot of things, but the look of her father stands out the most. Slack-jawed and empty, he accepted Cassian’s blade.
Cassian brought the terrible, choked silence of death. It was a sound she hadn’t heard before. She didn’t expect it to slide in so easily, but once the brute pulled the blade from his neck, the sound of its ease twisted inside her mind for years. Her daddy’s empty gaze took over her subconscious.
Still searching the memories of her past for truth, she remembers how the brutes tore into her mother’s neck. She tried to hide, but it was too late. That’s when the bastard bound her and hauled her over his shoulders, bubbling with sadistic laughter.
While those memories tear her apart, something else springs forward in Rae’s mind. Something calming. Something of her own.
Short, amber hair. Eyes that look right through her. In this vision, there is candlelight, drawing Rae further and further in. Whoever this apparition is, this beautiful woman inside her mind, Rae does not know.
She must find her.
Is this ghost some kind of version of herself? A double of a memory, a copy born in the heart of her trauma?
Rae can’t be sure of anything. After the alphas took her, her memory turned to absolute shit.
They torched her home, the ragged alphas who appeared as scarred silhouettes. And the dogs that drooled over the trenched soil had ravaged the villagers who held their hands up in defense.
They were slave traders. Rae had been too young to understand how it happened. The pictures, instead, ran inside her eyes as figments of a darker place within her imagination. She’d looked at the man with thinning hair, sunken eyes, and tarred teeth. He’d grinned and unsheathed his cock.
“Take every part of her except the fruit,” he chattered to his soldiers, voice hollow.
They broke her, tore the youthful skin with hypodermic needles to subdue her frantic movements. Rolling her pouty lips back, their writhing, fat fingers had pried and exposed her perfectly aligned teeth.
Using their hands as clamps, they’d unlocked her jaw and huffed her scent obsessively. As their eyes fastened, the men howled, short, but manic enough to welcome Rae into their palace of pain.
She remembered the scorched landscape of humble homes and bodies. Carried away in the arms of her captor, she’d reached toward the heat, unable to remold the fabric of her reality.
Strangely, he had not fucked her. He’d fucked her mind instead. At least, that’s what she remembers. Everything is fragmented like the sharp needles of a broken ceramic bowl. If he didn’t fuck her, he gave her worse.
Rae had been sold into testing. They fed, groomed, housed, and even bathed her. In some ways, she was living a life of royalty. But whenever she gazed through her window at the edge of the protected dome facilities, she realized she had a term limit.
At her peak fertility, the lab men would try every trick in the book on her. If she failed to give them what they wanted, they’d damn her to hell.
Who was she now? What machine did the men mold her into? When she looks at them, she does not gaze for too long. Though she has been treated with relative respect, the lurking feeling that Cassian might be back to claim her never ceases to haunt her.
The doctor presses a circular button on his tablet and whispers a record. “Subject EC23, showing signs of progress.”
“Why can’t we have children anymore?”
The doctor groans.
She knows what happened, had heard the story time and time again. The alphas hated bearing the burden of hearing about it, but it’s a fact that nature turned on all of them.
To her surprise, the doctor leans forward and twists his frown into a strange smile. “You’ll be the first to change the world. You’re the special one of the bunch,” he says.
Rae’s gaze quickly falls toward the tactical belt attached to the doctor’s waist. Hugging his hip is a pistol resting inside a leather holster.
She suddenly wishes to take it, to stab it against her temple and squeeze the trigger.
The doctor slithers his fingers into the twisted hips of her panties, rolling them down her thighs.
&
nbsp; “If I’m so special, why haven’t you brought my captor in to breed me?” she asks.
The doctor presses two fingers together to feel Rae’s chest, but she quickly wriggles away. “As we discussed before, I didn’t choose your mate. You were taken and brought here.”
He nudges his spectacles up the ridge of his arching nose. “The leader has a special liking to you. A connection, if you will,” he says.
“Leader,” she whispers.
“There’s a lot your mind didn’t retain. That is a shame, but we must continue with the program for the sake of progress,” he says.
Rae wriggles her toe up his thigh. She knows what she’s doing, teasing him. Trying to find a way out. “You’re an alpha. Are you not a better candidate than the leader?”
The doctor gulps. He glances at the camera hanging from the corner of the ceiling. A red beam of light blinks at them. “Please be still. I am required to take desensitizers before I meet with the patients.”
He’s horny. It doesn’t matter how many desensitizers the alpha takes. She can sense his longing, and she hates him for it.
Rae keeps her body still as she observes the blubbering idiot. She could coax him into freeing her. He would be the one to do it, she decides.
But if that happened, a chain reaction would ensue. The entire planet would hunt her. Faced with the consequences of the doctor’s hypothetical knotting, he’d probably choke her to death to avoid persecution.
For her, death will not differ from the other omegas’ fate. All the omegas die here. She can only hope it comes fast.
Locked up for years, she has been counting the days by etching a thin line into the wall of her concrete room. Her walls are covered with these markings.
The guards see it all on the CCTV streams, but they don’t punish her. The scarcity Rae possesses inside her womb is far too valuable to harm. Instead of a firm smacking, the guards stand by the opening of her door hoping to get a whiff of her scent.
Rae is done talking with the specialist. She grabs his belt and pulls.
Pouting his lips, the doctor quivers. “What are you trying to do to me?”
This is it. She has to escape.
He fumbles his radio as Rae opens her legs, revealing her moist virgin hole, just barely releasing enough slick for his eyes to light up with pained excitement.
“Did you really take your desensitizer?” she purrs.
The doctor chokes and catches his throat. Thrown into a fit, he lets out a hungered, pitiful squeal. His hand, rigid and twisted, arches down to his zipper.
“No,” he admits. “I did not.“
“Mm. And the cameras. Are they rolling?“
He gulps, sweat building. “They can be erased,” he says. “This can be our little secret.”
“I know I’m special, Doctor,” she says, spreading her thighs apart.
This is what alphas crave. Easy access. Well, he’s going to get more than that…
The doctor urges his body forward. A quick spasm in his neck pulses. “Come here.”
Rae knows she isn’t really special. She is far too aware of everyone’s thoughts. She is regarded as a whore.
The doctor knows it. She knows it. It’s about time the world respect the power and cunning of whores. Special or not, she’s finding a way out of this facility.
As the doctor tightens his fist around his cock, his bottom lip turns into a sharp grin. His fingers smudges her inner thigh.
“You don’t say a word,” he grunts. “That’s an order.”
Rae closes her eyes and notices the rising, burning sensation from the tight cuffs clasped around her wrists.
The sooner it’s over, the better.
Bracing, Rae imagines herself in her father’s garden. The bright sunlight brushes against her flowing hair. Their village was idyllic.
Peace.
A gruff voice breaks through that peaceful barrier. An alpha, another alpha has broken into her room.
Fuck.
“She’s mine,” the intruder growls.
Rae opens her eyes to a hunched brute, pistol in hand, unwavering. Without warning, his finger curls around the trigger.
Two pulls, faster than lightning, and the doctor’s head explodes onto the wall in front of her.
The alpha lowers his weapon. “My turn, bitch.”
Chapter Two
Cassian gazes at the row of nude omegas lying in cryogenic chambers.
The cold serves to keep their bodies in shape. The gas eases their pain, but at high doses, it erases the mind entirely. It makes the omegas easy to take.
They are like a fine delicacy, and he has thousands of them. They sleep peacefully in stasis, of course.
“The copies are a grand display of what we can achieve,” he mutters, breath visible.
Fingers held tight around the glowing chamber of one clone, Cassian realizes the error of his words. They would be a grand display if they worked.
Someday, when he gets the coding right, he’ll be able to sell a better version to the public. Right now, the Prototype One is the best his team could make.
He’ll get there. He’s sure of it.
Besides, he has bigger plans.
Leaning forward, the cruel leader of the Ouroboros hisses, “Their eyes disgust me. They are too close together.”
They are her. Yet, so different. So very fucking wrong.
When the cities succumbed to the brutal force of the Ouroboros, government authorities lifted the ban on the omega slave trade. A new industry was born, one based around synthetic omegas. In laymen’s terms: clones. Selective breeding was the aim, and it was said they could be used to repopulate the world.
Cassian has his hand in every sector. He called his project Omega Unlimited. His pack would sell the clones that could bear children to high-level officials. They would throw the rest into the night club sector, used and abused for entertainment purposes. The bustling red-light district of Dagon makes most of his fortune these days.
Problem is, none of the clones can give birth. Only one cunt was born with that ability.
Subject EC23.
He named her Rae.
Unlike most of the slaves, her hymen is intact. For Cassian, she’s a prize worth saving, the future vessel of his legacy. When she reaches the right age, he vows to crack her open and bask in her yolk.
The time has almost come. It is just days away.
It’s a miracle she was even born.
He designed her code, taking years to perfect every inch of her body. He is not a scientist, but he hired the best and brightest.
Harvesting the correct data, Cassian took what he needed and sent the concubine to a black-site facility in the South for constant monitoring. She was to wait for him until ready to pluck.
“I have deprived myself of her for too long,” Cassian whispers.
A woman’s voice comes from behind, stealing his bearing and sending shivers down his spine. “You will find her,” she says.
Mother…
Cassian hunches forward and grinds his teeth. “I… love her.”
“You own her replicas. Focus on perfecting them.”
Groaning, he faces an omega behind the glass of the lustrous freezer. Cold oxygen surrounds her. “Don’t toy with me. They are not as glamorous as her,” he says.
“They take your cock the same.”
Cassian doesn’t know how Rae’s fuck feels, but the clones are inadequate to his needs. When they wake from their induced slumbers, the copies always gag in paralyzing horror. It always plays out the same.
He’s ugly. A monster.
Deep facial scars and burns from raids of yonder litter his face like the apocalypse. His body, tormented with the clawing of his past victims, stands tall like a black mamba.
He is always ready to strike. To dominate and kill.
To fuck…
Still, whenever he inserts his mass of flesh and overgrown cartilage into a copy’s pussy, he has to pretend they aren’t cold. It’s lik
e ruining a freshly dead corpse. Still worthwhile, but the slick doesn’t produce like the real omegas, rare on the outside.
He unsheathes his cock from a saggy pile of foreskin bundled against his pelvis. The bone, thick as redwood, scythes into the air. Sore and blooming, the head drips lubricant in preparation for his fuck.
Cassian feels his appetite overtake him. “I’m ready for the copy now, Mother,” he says.
There will be no screaming. Not even the faintest moan. Cassian has perfected blocking out the slithering crawling tongues that make up the thoughts inside his head. He will be sure to block out hers, too.
Throat agape, his voice sounds hollow and disturbed. “Help me, Mother,” he whispers.
Leaning back, Cassian closes his eyes and remembers the lakes of Varikar. The sandbank glittered with omega blood. The bitches they found there were prized above the rest.
They were all slaughtered. There was no reasoning behind the execution. It was a simple act of dominance, commanded by Cassian.
During that horrible raid, the air stung Cassian’s eyes, salty and rich with recent death. The omegas that were bundled on the shore had the complexion of stillborn baby birds. As he watched their hearts die out, he’d felt a sense of pride overwhelm him.
On that day, the sand beneath the slave traders’ feet flooded with red. A river of hope, Cassian had thought. He inhaled the last scents of the omegas and moved on.
That was his first raid, the most memorable, no doubt. But there were more. So many more.
In the cryogenics facility, Cassian feels his mother’s hand close around his shoulder, waking him from his peaceful vision. He swallows and opens his eyes to a small chalice. “Drink,” his mother says.
Taking hold of the golden stem, he quickly drinks, choking on the bitter, dark liquid.
Warmth flows through his cheeks and chest. He lets out a sharp cough and inhales. “You spiked my cup.”
The elderly hand wrestles the chalice away from his fingers. “Spiked with the necessary combination of chemicals to keep your knot hard and strong,” she says.
Broken Angel: The Complete Collection: A Dark Omegaverse Romance Page 5
