Wren's Song: Volume One

by Addison Cain

  There was a point all males knew not to push an Omega past, a point that led to unyielding bloodlust. She became something else.

  A creature that would single-mindedly defend her young. A creature who could not feel pain. A creature who would not stop until death.

  She was going to kill this man, beat him to death with the metal rod she’d torn from hardened rock.

  “Stop threatening her boy, boss!” Toby pushed forward, snapping his teeth at Caspian before his wild eyes met her unblinking gaze. “Put down the weapon and come to me, mate. Mikael will remain unharmed. You have my word.”

  Mate? Her grip tightened about the aged rebar, fingers going white. Word? Worthless.

  Cajoling, singsonging false calm, Toby held up his hands patting air as if to calm her. “This is all a misunderstanding. Look, he even gave Alec a place. One with pay. Food. Water. You’ll be able to keep a close eye on him. Caspian means no harm to your boys.”

  “Like hell I don’t!” The First Alpha stripped off his disgusting coat, dropping it to the mud, muscles bulging as he demanded surrender. “Submit, now, or I’ll cast him out on the street. Submit, or the sick one will drown in his own body’s juices. You are mine! I don’t give a fuck about our agreement.”

  Greys and shadows bleached away until her world was only black and white.

  Rearing back with a guttural scream, Wren launched herself at the betrayer, laughing at his roar.

  Chapter 15

  Lashes crusted and gummed with drying blood stuck together when Wren tried to blink herself awake. The ground below her was cold and wet. She was soaked, naked, save for scraps of ruined cloth and the icy touch of heavy chains.

  They weighed her down, pinning her to that rough cement floor.

  There was enough light coming through the crack in the door to see her shackled hands and swollen, stiff fingers. Five of her nails had been torn off. At least three of her fingers were broken… and the blood. Her skin was scraped off.

  Wren could see why. She’d attacked the door, the walls… herself.

  Around the shackles on wrists and ankles was raw skin, torn when she’d tried to remove them.

  She didn’t remember doing it. She didn’t remember being chained or thrown in this room.

  All she could remember was Caspian’s threats. Submit, now, or I’ll cast him out on the street. Submit, or the sick one will drown in his own body’s juices.

  Well now she was lying in hers. Everything hurt: each muscle, each bone. Her split flesh.

  So many bites marked her limbs. They burned, but nothing like the gouged flesh of her neck. Raw fingers had tested the skin, coming away bright red. She was still bleeding, just as her cunt still spilled cum if she moved.

  It smelled of Caspian.

  These were his bites. He had bruised her and torn her neck. And she could remember nothing.

  He should have just killed her and been done with it. Shoving her into a dark closet to rot seemed too personal.

  It was almost as if he cared.

  That thought made her laugh, a thing she regretted immediately when scabbing skin stretched and oozed. If he thought to torture her, he’d better hurry. Infection would kill her in a matter of days.

  Maybe this was Caspian’s idea of compassion. Time to mourn her boy before inevitable death carried her out of this hellish life.

  Footfalls outside her door, the shadow of a man, and Wren began to sob. They could do whatever they wanted to her so long as she was reunited with Mikael and Alec in the afterlife.

  And maybe, just maybe, he was bleeding now too.

  Hopefully they all were. Caspian, Kieran, Toby… damn them all to burn in hell.

  The iron crank of a rusted lock shrieked, encroaching light burning her eyes as the door parted and a man peered in.

  “Are you sane?”

  Considering the one who asked, Wren hiccupped—an almost laugh in all her misery.

  Toby peered in at her, the look on his bruised face setting a thump in her chest that almost knocked the wind from her lungs.

  “I don’t blame you, sunshine.” He slipped through the door, closing it behind them so just the two of them were sequestered in the shadows. Kneeling, he lifted her shivering body so she might rest against his chest and steal warmth. “I don’t blame you, but I do request…”—he spoke the word as if testing it. As if really wanting to say demand instead—“Yes, I request that you capitulate. You cannot win, sweet girl. You must apologize.”

  He smoothed sticky hair from her face, staring down at what must be horrible damage with a frown.

  “So pretty…”

  Teeth chattering—and yes, her tongue felt all of them—Wren could offer up only another sorry sob.

  “Beg him for the lives of your boys. Do it now before it’s too late.”

  That got her attention.

  Despite the wreckage of her fingers and her bleeding wrists, Wren tried to grasp the front of his shirt. A shirt already marked with her blood, sweat, and tears.

  “We will get past this, all of us.” He pressed a kiss to her aching forehead. “But only if you submit.”

  Nodding emphatically, Wren gagged on the gore in her throat and tried to sign.

  She would not be signing for some time. Truly mute, tears fell, the salt stinging as they ran their course.

  He held her eyes, purring as if the sound might set her at ease. “Someday I hope you’ll tell me what that letter said.”

  Before she might find a way to reply, he stood, hauled her up into his arms, chains and all, and carried her sorry, half-frozen body out of the dark.

  It was a short walk to Caspian’s room, Wren noting that his hive seemed oddly silent. Beyond the sound of rushing water there were no yelps from whipped slaves, no barked orders from evil men. Just the water, the thrum in her chest, and the sound of Toby’s breathing.

  Two guards flanked the door, one opening it without so much as a glance at the bloodied, naked woman. And then she was inside.

  It struck her how familiar the space had become. The scents swept through her nostrils, invaded her lungs, and set that constant throb in her chest to spiraling heights.

  Caspian waited. Kieran too.

  The pair of them stood in the center of the space, but Wren couldn’t make out their expressions. She was too busy enjoying the wounds exposed by fresh clothes.

  Even in all her pain, in all that desperation, she enjoyed that Caspian’s eyes had both been blackened. That the corners of his mouth were crusted with blood. Under his clothes she pictured long strips of missing flesh, maybe even one of her missing fingernails burrowed deep to prick and harm.

  These were evil thoughts. That man, that hateful, vile, deceiver had the lives of her boys in his hands, and though her chest thumped, her lips blubbered.

  This awful person wanted her to scrape at his feet. He owned them all. His word meant nothing.

  But he was her only chance.

  Ground met her knees, Toby laying her naked, chain-draped body at the feet of his master.

  Thoughts of Mikael smiling from his hospital bed, the sound of his laughter ringing clear with no tinge of a wheeze, and Wren broke.

  Just like all the women in these caverns.

  Clinging to his boot, lips pressed the laces, she wept a river of pain and begged.

  Kieran’s scent neared until paper and pen were laid beside her.

  “Write that you are mine,” Caspian demanded, draping the ultimatum in a seductive purr.

  Manacled wrists moved together to pick up the pen, fumbled it, and tried again. It took agonizing ages to gather it in a fist only three fingers could grasp. Even longer to try to scratch upon the page, Please don’t hurt my boys.

  “Then submit.” He crouched over her bent head, a hand tangling in her wet hair. “Write it.”

  The sounds that came from her as she penned his demand were pathetic, angry, horrible… but she did as he requested, that hand on her head oddly supportive.

  I�
�m yours.

  “You are.” His fist tightened in her hair, gathering the mass back so he might yank her head upward to expose the worst of her wounds.

  Her throat, she felt fresh blood pump from the open wound to trickle warm down so much cold skin.

  “Look at me.”

  Lavender eyes tracked over massive legs, a belted waist. They dragged over the fresh shirt that hugged a muscled stomach, flexed pectorals to a neck that had the tiny, swollen bite of a female mouth. He pulled her hair all the tighter until she met a gaze full of something she could not name.

  Thumb swiping her tears, Caspian purred. “I was extremely impressed with your strength, little mouse.”

  The unwelcome beat in her chest pulsed, shook her, and sent another escaped drip of Alpha cum to trickle from her pussy.

  “It took hours to tame you and I enjoyed every last fucking minute.”

  Fucking. Because he had fucked her raw.

  He knelt even lower, pulling her ear to his lips. “And so did you, pretty mouse.”

  Broken Captive

  Wren’s Song Book 3

  Chapter 1

  “She is not to feel pain.”

  A command like broken glass grinding into an open wound. Sharp, gouging—the kind of abrasive threat that would make a grown man feel Death breathe down his neck.

  The physician’s hands stuttered, his work dabbing blood from mangled fingers faltering. Such hesitation betrayed much more than the Beta’s anxious scent. This was a male who knew one wrong word would see him a corpse. “I’m afraid that is impossible, sir.”

  Hovering overly close, Caspian snarled. “What did you just say to me?”

  In the short minutes since the physician had begun examining his captive mouse, the First Alpha’s fine mood had decayed. Raging victory at her chicken-scratched promise of loyalty faded. The glory that had beaten through his chest upon seeing her pale flesh marked by his many bites, depleted.

  The ruby-red rivulets of blood that ran from the garish wound where his teeth had pierced her throat were no longer beautiful.

  The glassy-eyed albino was a fucking wreck—one stuttering exhale away from the reaper.

  Keeping an unwavering eye on his prize, Caspian put a hand on her ankle, one of the few places on her body that was not damaged, as he addressed the frazzled Beta physician who’d been dragged from his bed in the middle of the night.

  “No Pain! And no scars will remain.” This he could give her, stroking his thumb over the protrusion of her ankle bone. “Do you understand me, doc? Only the bite on her neck is to be left alone.”

  From where he paced beside the bed, Toby issued a challenging growl. Clipped words followed a twitch in his cheek. “My claiming mark will remain on her shoulder, Caspian. Do you hear me? Remove it, and you force me to bite her again.”

  Chest expanding in an angry breath, Caspian was cut short when the physician interjected. “Gentlemen, I cannot erase this kind of damage with a handheld cauterizing laser. All of these wounds will scar, though I will do my best to keep it minimal. But skin cell manipulation requires delicate application of the larger equipment in my clinic, days of careful monitoring, possible surgery depending on the depth of the damage. She should be brought—”

  The very idea inspired pulsating fury in Caspian’s chest, a cage of unbending black encasing a shriveled, beating organ. “Suggest taking the Omega from this den again, and I’ll slit your throat.”

  One threat against the old man, and Caspian’s mouse finally turned her head. Their eyes met, muddy brown to bloodshot violet, and a look of such heartbreak took her from vacant to wretched. It said, please. It urged the target of that glance to settle and be calm.

  One thing it did not do was challenge; not that look. The mouse gave him a look of complete and miserable surrender.

  Where had the warrior gone? The mouse brave enough to face his brawn with little more than a bent piece of cement-caked rebar?

  Where was the hellion who’d taken his leaking cock with a scream, bucking her hips to pull him deeper even as she’d tried to throw him off?

  What of the Omega who had set her teeth to his throat, and dared mark him as if she might claim ownership?

  How she had howled and spat curses with her eyes. How she’d choked on Toby’s then Kieran’s cocks, guzzling down their cum once knotted and trapped beneath Caspian’s full weight.

  He’d filled her to the brim with seed, forced her to hold it all in so it might swim around her belly and let the fiery thing know she was outmanned. And still she’d fought, grinding Caspian’s knot deeper, howling her rage as that perfect cunt fluttered and sucked.

  Caspian had fucked her every possible way, knotted her more times in those maddening hours than he’d ever taken a woman. It wasn’t about keeping her pinned. It was about filling her with more, forcing submission upon the hellcat who had, without question, bruised several of his ribs and torn several pretty gashes into his skin.

  The urge to get more cum inside her, to sink his teeth into the wriggling, vicious mouse’s flesh… he’d been drunk on it. High on her scent, intoxicated with the strangling grip of her pussy.

  On the broken thing’s strength.

  He’d fucked her face down, scraping her tits over old, wet cement. Flipped her over once the first knot shrunk and shoved his way back in so he might see her blown eyes when he brought her to another ragged climax. All claws and teeth, she’d also taught him that a little Omega severed from sanity was as dangerous as she was fun.

  Volleys of blows had struck his temple. But when his little mouse went for the eyes…

  Had he been weaker, he would now be blind.

  Delicate fists were trapped, but only after she’d broken his nose. Sent him roaring as he knotted her a third time and fucked her into a pulp while his men were in a riot of applause. Hundreds saw. The Syndicate, their slaves… the females daring enough to leave the pen and gawk.

  They saw him maul his prize. Saw her disarmed, subdued, and ridden.

  And their ovation fed Caspian’s beast.

  Kieran and Toby savored his kill as well. Just as pack should.

  They got the remains the monster within deigned to share.

  They got her throat.

  The same throat Caspian had torn with his teeth. That need had gripped him, demanding all who’d borne witness see that the hissing viper was his, no matter whose cock she swallowed.

  Kieran had been the one to take her by the hair so Toby’s prick could be shoved between her gnashing teeth.

  She’d bitten him good, of course. The sick fuck had gotten off on it, cumming almost immediately and swamping her cheeks with spermy cream. Whatever tension had been brewing between Alphas Two and Three was obliterated when she sputtered and coughed, following that pathetic moment by licking her lips and opening wide for more.

  Kieran dipped in, Toby tending to his Second’s prostate with a clever finger and words of encouragement.

  This was seen by the Syndicate. They saw all three Alphas who ruled them united in victory.

  They saw an Omega of amazing capability cowed and owned by her betters.

  A glorious, violent mating—truly worthy of his pack.

  But even then, the insane little guttersnipe had not submitted. All saw her wriggle her way out of their embrace to seek out a new weapon, and then to scream when the Omega could not find her adopted child.

  Before she had been violent. In that instant, she went stark raving mad.

  The wiry teenager had been dragged away by wiser members of his gang the moment he’d been stupid enough to beg Caspian for mercy for his mom.

  Dragged off like the child he was, denied the view of his guardian’s interminable and violent rebirth. And that would follow him through the years in the gang.

  Once sworn, these males had only one allegiance.

  The Syndicate swore fealty, abandoned family, gave all to their leader.

  They didn’t cry or beg for mercy.

  Al
ec had failed his first test of loyalty, and would be brutally punished.

  He’d missed the glory of the men’s cheering—the blood the mouse had drawn from Kieran, Toby, and even Caspian.

  In his sobbing state and begging pathetic wailing, he’d missed the glory of an Omega’s whirlwind of violence and lust.

  God, the pretty mouse’s fierce subjugation had been beautiful.

  Where she kept that side of herself when mellow and docile, Caspian could never guess. But seeing her unleashed, even just the once, was enough to slake a thirst he’d never known he might possess.

  He’d jerk off to the look on her face when he first fucked into her dripping cunt for years. Feel her flesh between his teeth, the taste of her blood and his on his tongue.

  The way she’d roared…

  But now, after a full and proper capitulation, he did not feel vindicated.

  He looked at the little Omega holding his eyes and felt a simmering disquiet.

  Damage. Pain. Wounds that would scar.

  Broken fingers the best doctor in Dale City was struggling to set.

  A female who reeked of loss. Not joy. Not the epiphany of being owned by strong males.

  One who suffered.

  A grinding, soul-deep moment of realization sunk in. These were not just bite wounds. Caspian had marked the mouse. He could still feel the squish of her breaking skin in his teeth, was already eying the unmarked ankle he caressed as if ready to set his teeth to that snowy patch of skin.

  And he had chomped down so many times she would be scarred with the crescent shapes of his enthusiasm for life.

  Across the bed, Toby continued to pace, no longer replete or satisfied from fucking her mouth. “You should not have threatened her boys.”

  Drawing up to full height, Caspian cracked his neck and at long last broke the stare he’d shared with the mouse. “Are you not proud of your mate?”

  Palms slapping the mattress, rocking it enough that the Omega winced when her body shifted, Toby bellowed, “She’s your mate now too! Look at her fucking neck! At her arms, her tits. What part of her did you not maul?”