He thinks of his unborn kin. His and the others legacy. What are he and the pack supposed to teach them? They will open their eyes to a world worse than it is today. Everything will come undone for them.
This is the prophecy of alpha.
The snake’s thirst isn’t endless. It can run out. And when it does, it retreats into a pit of fire.
There is still the omega to think about. He feels for Rae more than anyone in his life. Whatever that means, he cannot say for certain. It’s not natural for an alpha to care this much.
Will it last?
The hours pass, and Vash struggles to keep his mind intact. When the boat slows, he is considerably weak from seasickness.
Moving to the bow of the cargo ship, he climbs to the top and feels the pouring rain soak his face and body.
But that’s not all he feels.
He is met with probing hands, concentrated blows, and quick degradation. Surrounded by alphas, he is beaten and taken into the facility.
They bind his wrists, blackening his eyes until they are a mess of risen flesh. They swabs his cavities clean.
Vash does not ask questions or even fight back. He takes every ounce of torture they have until they are ready to bring him into a solitary room.
“Inside,” one brute commands.
They throw him inside the dark room, cackling as they lock the door.
Blackness.
Hope, destroyed.
Locked away to die.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucas stands inside an empty room, unable to believe his eyes.
“She’s gone,” Lucas shouts.
Heart beating against bone, pumping adrenaline and cortisol. Fear. Panic.
“She’s fucking gone!”
The shock brings Lucas an absurd amount of rage and vulnerability. Scouring the house, he finds no trace of her. The gun is missing.
Why did they trust her? They have lost their only treasure.
Killian wakes and rolls to the spot where Rae once slept. The absence leaves him cornered and apelike, mind threading together every possibility.
She warned them. Given them all the hints that she would leave.
“Vash,” Killian hisses.
“Now do you agree? We shouldn’t have listened to him,” Lucas says.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
They can hear the whistle of electricity coming from the city. The faint drum of bullets ricocheting off of mortar and flesh sends shivers up their spines. The wars are picking up steam.
“Fucking bitch,” Lucas grunts.
“Don't,” Killian warns.
They stand with no leader, no identifiable pack, and no future. “Where do you think she went?” Lucas asks.
“Somewhere we’re not welcome,” Killian says.
“The club. Omega Unlimited,” Lucas mutters, shaking his head. “She doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into.”
Killian suits up and grabs a spare rifle. He threads each thick bullet into the magazine. When the tight springs won’t budge, he breathes easier.
“We’re going in there,” he says.
Lucas picks up Rae’s leash and squeezes around the rounded chains. So far, none of what they planned has come to fruition. As far as they are concerned, Cassian has only grown stronger and more aware of their plans.
“He planned for this,” Lucas says, lost in thought. “He outsmarted us.”
“Cassian?” Killian asks.
The light from the sun is now dissolving through the windows of the home, and Lucas feels ready to burn into a ball of flame. His entire life has led to critical moments where he chose to face the barrel of another’s gun.
He was a fighter. A soldier. Killian too. Vash, not so much. Vash was a leader—there is a difference.
As soon as Lucas was ripped from his parents’ arms, he became a natural-born killer. Revenge was always around the corner, just barely out of reach.
He thought they were done with that chapter of their lives. Apparently not.
“I’ll be satisfied when I impale Cassian’s skull with my cock,” he growls.
Killian grins, running his fingers against his coarse scruff. “Be careful what you wish for.”
When they are ready, they look through the empty hallway of the home. Suddenly, a cold wash of nostalgia washes over Lucas. He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again.
“What will I become after the world ends?”
And the babies Rae holds inside her belly, what will they become? They all chose to ignore the obvious truths. Life is fragile. Time is not on the side of the living.
“Let’s never come back to this place again,” Lucas mutters.
“Deal.”
The horror that mankind is willing to create seizes on their hearts. A vileness like the pounding of clay before it slides on the pottery wheel. This hatred and fear lies dormant in all alphas, and they used to believe that it made the world go round.
Now they can see the truth.
As they set out for the city, they choose not to look back at the house they molded from their nightmares.
Rae has changed them.
Whether they like it or not, they will never be the same again.
Squinting against the dirty sunset, Killian breathes in the toxic air and tries to remember her scent.
Lucas smacks his shoulder and moves through a sea of street vendors, rumbling motorbikes, and sex-crazed alphas looking for a pleasant time.
“How does it feel to be the most wanted alphas in the world?” Lucas asks.
Killian smirks. “You tell me.”
Lucas analyzes every face that walks past him. He is worried. There are alphas everywhere, and he is sure they’ll run into a familiar face if they keep on this street.
“Too many fucking alphas out tonight,” Lucas says.
As they round a corner, he can see a parade forming. In the distance, alphas shoot rifles into the air, faces stained with the blood of their victims. They cackle and rage as the gathering crowd howls with religious fervor.
Killian holds his rifle underneath his jacket, fingers shuddering against the trigger. “If I knew it was going to be a holiday, I might suggest we stay indoors.”
Lucas swallows. “Give them bread and circuses.”
A large platform with bundled omegas drives along path. Twine and threading hold the female bodies together. Above them, a giant display of Cassian’s face.
The performing alphas, most likely slave workers from the outer sectors, throw buckets of coins into the crowd. A horde of ogres leap over the backs of one another, hands desperate to catch one or two. A few start to fight.
“Vash would have our heads for coming back into the city like this,” Killian says.
But Vash is gone, and the idea of him dead or locked away makes them feel uneasy. Worst of all, they have no way of knowing if they are walking into a trap.
As the parade thickens, this fear becomes impossible to ignore. Killian elbows through two civilians, but he is met with multiple swift blows to the nose.
Blood flows from Killian’s inflamed nostrils. “Keep moving,” he shouts.
But the mob of alphas only grows, and it becomes nearly impossible to see where they are going. Flashing lights, frantic movements, and throaty cries from exasperated bellies circle around them.
And then everything takes a turn for the worse. The alphas on the platforms drop to their knees, revealing automatic rifles.
Lucas clasps his hands over his ears, shaking his head to get some grounding.
“Look up,” he cries.
The lights of the city shut off with a crack. Killian grabs Lucas’s jacket before he can focus his eyes on what appears to be falling gift-wrapped presents.
“What the fuck?” Lucas whispers as Killian pulls him toward a clearing.
One by one, the gifts open to exploding shrapnel. Waves of alphas fall to the floor, choking on bits of blood and rust, gasping for air. Within seconds, the parade
turns into a bloodbath of ruined lives.
The crowd erupts with relentless force. Irregular alphas with hardware-lined faces zip-line in from the terraces. Computerized scanning systems redden the pupils of their left eyes. Behind them, omegas wield combat rifles.
They are trained. Every single one of them.
But that’s impossible. They are omegas, and everyone knows omegas are weak and ineffective.
“Who are they?” Lucas shouts.
“I don’t want to find out,” Killian says.
Tripping over their feet, they run toward the hazy lights of the nightclub. But when they arrive, the building is a searing pile of rubble. Everywhere they turn, death clings to the earth like an impossible stain.
Before they can react, a series of bombs in the city send tremors through the asphalt. They watch in silence as half of the metropolis falls into a torrent of flame. The smell of burning human flesh wafts into their noses, and screams of panic fill their ears.
Lucas holds his breath, listening. The defense sirens spread the tones of chaos.
Time to run.
The two alphas head through the decimated club. Rae is everywhere. Her head, limbs, body fragments are everywhere.
“Copies?” Lucas asks.
Killian kneels and takes hold of the soppy clump of hair from a dismembered head. “Copies.”
Lucas swallows and peers through the steel wiring that holds half of the building up. Cassian’s army has been deployed. The city is a war zone.
“There’s no way out of the city. We’re trapped,” Lucas says.
Killian stands and clutches his rifle close to his chest. “We’re soldiers,” he says. “If we die tonight, we’ll be better off.”
“You saw the army of omegas. Where are they from?” Lucas asks.
“The Republic,” he says. “They’re reclaiming the throne.”
“No fucking way,” Lucas mutters.
“Time to start believing. Right now is our chance to help them out,” he says. “We can use this as an opportunity and barter with them. Let’s go.”
Walking outside the demolished building, Lucas feels the crunch of glass beneath his boots. He inhales the smoky scent of death and grits his teeth. It has been so long since he punished and killed. At least this time, he has an excuse.
Lucas follows as Killian jogs into the chaotic streets. Bullets fall like rain, puckering the surface of the weathered buildings behind them.
Feet carrying them to safety, they fire into the oblivion of smoke and motionless, screaming betas.
Step by step, they run onto the train platform, only stopping when they reach the last step. The platform is quiet and empty, and the roof muffles the cracks of firing from above.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Lucas whispers to himself. “Where are we going?”
Killian pants and winces in pain. Reaching around his triceps, he feels the torn tissue and trickling blood. Another bomb explodes, sending the exit of the station tumbling into the pipes below.
Killian holds a bloodied hand up to block the debris. “The barracks,” he says.
Lucas tosses his pack and dives to search through it when he notices the wound. “You’re hit.”
“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Killian grunts.
Digging through his bag, Lucas pulls out a first aid kit. Fumbling at the edges of the case, he opens it and pulls out a small syringe. “We have to get the bullet out and cauterize the wound,” he says. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“Like hell, I will,” he groans.
Overhead, the sound of helicopters cuts through the air. Both of them look toward the outside to see a set of figures enclose around them. A blinding light casts before their eyes.
A firm and commanding voice reverberates against the walls of the platform. “Put down your weapons.”
Lucas sighs. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he sinks into a pit of despair.
They have lost.
A woman walks forward. “Oh my God,” Lucas whispers.
It’s Rae…
Chapter Nineteen
Rae stands, motionless, staring at Cassian with pure dread. “I…felt you,” she whispers, fear trickling into the casing of her spine. “How did I know you’d find me?”
A wicked grin forms on Cassian’s face. In his hand is a rose. Delicately, he plucks the petals, watching them fall near his boots. The center of the bulb is tightly enclosed, but he breaks it with his index finger.
He steps forward, reaching out his fat palm to feel her soft skin.
“Another memory implant. You knew where to go,” he says.
As soon as the flat of his skin touches her cheekbone, she recoils, repulsed.
“We are connected,” he says.
Tears form in her eyes. Salt stings each minute nerve. Life is a cruel joke. No. It isn’t a joke at all. It’s just cruel. Punishment for punishment’s sake.
If God exists, he is a sadist.
She admits what she already knew to be true. “I am a version of you,” she whispers. “But I thought I could undo that.”
He laughs. “I’m sorry I gave you hope.”
Unable to look at his horrid face, Rae peers over her shoulder at the dancing women inside the club. They are just like her, but they lack one important detail: her imagination.
They are props, moving manikins incapable of threading together any real thought. “I hate this place,” she says. “Why did you bring me here?”
“You deserve to be back with your kind.”
Rae can see the hunger in Cassian’s cruel eyes. He can no longer help himself.
“Then I’ll say it again. I hate you,” she says. “I’ll always hate you.”
As she comes closer to him through the darkness, her pregnant belly prods the light, coercing his mind to feel the worst. He can finally touch her now, but when he does, he meet her with a harsh smack.
Rae crumples to the floor like a dirty pile of laundry. Stepping over her, he lifts her body by the hem of her shirt. “You don’t get a say in what you like or don’t like, whore.”
Rae spits against the black floor and grunts. Wiping her face, she can see the faint hue of red gleam against the cold neon. Suddenly, Rae feels the fiery flash of anger consume her.
His scarred face looms like a spirit phantom. All of her memories, all the programming he gave her is torture.
“It wasn’t my fault you let them take me,” she says. “You let them sneak into my room. You let them steal my purity.”
Once more, Cassian hammers his fist. Bone and muscle cracks Rae’s cartilage. Her nose runs like a faucet, hot enough to leave her gasping for air and quick healing. Begging.
Rae coughs and falls into his wave of abuse. Each blow she takes is worse than the last. But she has prepared for this. An alpha’s brutality has to be mastered with experience.
Rae had all the experience an omega needed.
Panting and croaking like a gnarled beast, Cassian adjusts the wrinkles of his heavy outerwear. “Next time, I’ll crush your stomach. Have you had enough?”
Rae refuses to nod. She knew he would react like this, knew he would beat her until she was silent. She also knew he’d try to kill her once she said the last of what she needed to say.
How he reacts after interests her more.
“You let them do it…” she whispers.
Cassian leans down, hovering against the top of her spinal column. “Say it again.”
When his pupils tightened, he clenches his sore and dripping fists.
She smiles. “You let them fuck me. And I enjoyed every minute of it,” she says.
The words shoot into the pit of his stomach. Betrayed, Cassian starts to weep, enraged. Strangely, the tears subside into the back of his throat, gargling through wretched shrieks of historical pain.
Life has cucked him.
“No,” Cassian growls, swaying his head.
Every poor choice he made, all of his failures, feeds into his frag
ile state. “You… cunt.”
For a moment, Cassian can picture her untainted body. Thin and vigorous. The spitting image of beauty. She will never be that again. She gave those traitors her fruit, and that can’t be forgiven.
It is a sin.
He threads his fingers through his thinning hair, fastening onto the contorted stems, pulling. Words fall from his mouth like electric thunder, but the sentence structure erodes to the basics.
“Why… Mother… Can’t control… Failure… I’m sorry… I am sorry.”
Weaning from the black floor, Rae pulls her heavy body toward Cassian. She fights through the intense body aches. Despite her cracked features, she pushes herself onto her knees and leans her face close to his.
Curiously, Cassian does not beat her. He lifts his eyes and watches in solitary horror. Surely, he has never seen an omega behave in such a way, and he doesn’t react with confidence.
Closing her eyes, Rae widens her nostrils. Hovering over his clammy hide, she scents him. The smell of his unkempt body nauseates her, but the feeling of control elates her.
“You dumb brute,” she says. “You’ve had me this whole time.”
Cassian clenches his teeth. They chatter. There is something different about him, an air of vulnerability.
“What?” he asks.
Stroking his hair back, Rae whispers, “There, there. It’s okay now. I will take care of you.”
Cassian’s forehead drops against hers with a dull thud. More tears fall from his irritated eyes. “I can’t stop this madness,” he cries, shaking as if suffering from a heavy flu or bout of insanity.
Rae’s throbbing mess of a face makes no difference to him. It’s all about his pain. Though she is covered in the splatter of her own blood, she allows herself to remain quite composed.
“It was my fault that you hit me,” she says. “I spoke out of line.”
Cassian’s tears dry up instantly. Issuing a fake sniff of snot, the man reveals a hidden smirk. “You’re pregnant. It is beyond horrible.”
Rae can see the flash of lunacy in his movement. She isn’t sure how much longer he’ll stay docile, so she takes his hands and squeezes.
Broken Angel: The Complete Collection: A Dark Omegaverse Romance Page 16
