by Addison Cain
Ear to the door, breath caught in her lungs, Morgaine heard the dulcet voice of her mother’s steady, submissive reply. “I assure you again, none reside here but I, sir. I am a tailor and live a modest life. Customers come to me, to this room, to be fitted for their clothing. It must be one of them you smell.”
A dangerous growl shook the walls. “Your neighbors tell a different tale, madam. You have a daughter. Her name is Morgaine... and you have allowed her to age out of our sight to the point that she is now full-grown. The child is not your property. She belongs to the Alphas, and you shall give her up.”
“My only child died years ago. Whoever told you differently is mistaken. Take any of my goods you desire. See, prized cloth, woven and dyed to a deep red? It’s yours. How about embroidered tatted lace for your wife? Look here, this is my finest work. Beyond these wares, I have nothing else to offer you, great Alpha.”
Each hair on the back of Morgaine’s neck stood at attention, her heart in her throat upon hearing the Alpha cruelly bark, “Have her bound in the square. If she will not answer with honesty, she will be made an example of and left there to rot.”
“No!” Hand to the latch, Morgaine thrust the door inward, desperate to save her mother. “Don’t hurt her! I am here.”
In the cottage’s dim light, two huge, unwanted males dominated the small chaotic space. Amongst tossed furniture and shattered possessions they stood: pristine armor, weapons hanging at their waists and slung across their backs.
Both poured every ounce of their attention over her, each male unnaturally still and unblinking.
The door shut with a bang at her back.
Eyes welling, Morgaine stumbled forward and repeated. “I’m here.”
The nearest soldier took a step toward her. In response, she drew in a breath, ready to beg for her mother’s life. One deep inhalation, and Morgaine became stone.
It was as if she could taste the intruders in the back of her throat. Embers… it was like breathing in scorching fire that burned from the inside out.
She couldn’t speak to beg for amnesty. She couldn’t fall to her knees.
She couldn’t breathe.
Blinking madly, a wheeze caught in her chest.
Wide-eyed, she cut a panicked glance to her mother. An Alpha’s hand was wrapped around the woman’s throat, her taut body jammed against the wall. Gone was the calm-voiced merchant. Shaking from terror, she reached for her child.
Desperate to cling to her mother, unable to move, Morgaine felt warm tears slip from her eyes. She tried, she tried with everything in her being to reach back.
Instead, the floor met her knees when a viscous cramp tore up her calves and left her sprawling. The genuflection was not an act of supplication. Not when her hands had clawed into the floor as if it might save her.
Lack of air left her giddy, weak, and on the verge of unconsciousness.
Through the tangle of her hair, she saw the closest soldier’s boots approach.
Amusement colored his gibe. “Your nonexistent daughter has returned.”
Fingers splayed, Morgaine stared at the rushes under her palms, babbling out anything she thought might appease the men who tormented her mother. “I was in the woods... gathering berries.”
An unwelcome finger hooked her chin, forcing her to raise her face for inspection. The man touching her, the intruder who had wrecked her home, was larger than any male in her village. Huge. Mean. A weather-beaten face frowned down at her. “And where are these berries?”
“I couldn’t...” she could not have gathered berries earlier, just as in that moment she could not form proper words. Silent tears dripped down dirty cheeks. “I love my mother.”
“Hush, girl.” The stranger held her eyes, cupped her face in his rough palms, and offered a soft smile.
It did not lessen the hardness of him, not in the slightest.
On the verge of bawling, Morgaine begged, “Please…”
At her entreaty, the stranger began to produce the most beautiful music.
Never had air rumbled with such perfect warmth. From under the vivid armor across his chest, deep reverberations made the world new. The resonating noise held the power to loosen her locked muscles—Morgaine suddenly able to suck in greedy gulps of air.
Baffled, she gaped. The Alpha purred in the way the courting men of her settlement purred—the way her fat neighbor’s son, Cassius, had purred when he’d offered her flowers... but deeper... the sound so profound her body felt as if it were weightless in a vast body of water.
“Keep your eyes open, renegade.” Inundated with rich vibration, a voice rough around the edges grew remarkably smooth. As did his touch when his thumb wiped her cheeks clean of tears. “I wish to hear your name from your own lips.”
Anything, she would do anything to see her mother set free. Even the unspeakable thing her neighbor Hanna had accused her of moments before. Thick-tongued, she whispered, “Morgaine.”
The Alpha’s attention may have been centered on her, the soldier turning her chin left to right as he looked her over, but his words were for her mother. “You are very lucky, old woman, that this one is exceptionally beautiful.”
Desperate to reach her child, her mother fought the second soldier who still held her by the throat. “Leave her be. You can’t have her!”
The wild effort produced no change in the situation. The male batted her mother’s hands away as if swatting a fly and spoke to his comrade. “The girl is many years past the age she should have been collected. The Omega is most likely damaged.”
“No.” The back of the purring Alpha’s fingers tripped down Morgaine’s neck, tracing the line of flesh exposed above the open bodice of her filthy dress. He pulled her shift aside until the pink tip of her nipple came into his sight. And then he touched her there, circling secret flesh with the pad of his finger. “This one is perfect.”
Toes curling, a strange croak caught in Morgaine’s throat. She lost sight of her mother’s struggles in the corner. She forgot that she should have been pleading for mercy. She forgot her name.
When the Alpha groaned in approval and palmed the full weight of her breast, Morgaine felt the world slip away. “I... I’m dying.”
Those sad words moved her purring tormentor to reach out and catch her listing body before it hit the ground. In one sweep he hoisted her to his chest and purred all the louder. Voice unbelievably gentle, the stranger put his lips to her ear. “Come, Omega, I know what will make you feel better.”
Chapter 3
A lovely sensation of floating in cream… of safety and warmth, enveloped her body. Morgaine was wrapped in velvet reassurance—the impression so rich, so perfectly contenting, that when lashes fluttered open, she was certain she had passed into the spirit world.
Or so she thought. Lingering soreness in her shoulder began to throb with the smallest movement. Next came awareness of the dry sting of abraded palms. And her knees, her knees were stiff with scabs, joints and muscles aching.
The dead were not supposed to know pain.
A soft whimper escaped parted lips.
Blinking twice, she found her eyes were unable to see even a hand before her face.
She had gone to the dark place of suffering instead.
Fear chased away the last remnants of her false sense of security.
Engulfed in stygian darkness, cocooned in something softer than rabbit fur, Morgaine began to hyperventilate. It was more than her inability to see, it was the scent: spice, musk, salt, sweat... all decidedly male and not a single one familiar.
Alphas.
She was surrounded, locked in pitch black, and she had no idea which way to run.
The room seemed to answer the growing thump of her heart, and soft light emanated from an unknown source.
The glow grew, and the wide-eyed girl found that though the scent of many males filled the room, she was, in fact, alone.
Alone and sprawled within a cushioned pit.
Covering her body were fragments
of white fur, scattered like fallen flower petals over her while she’d slept. From each pelt emanated the aroma of a different Alpha. A hundred of them, maybe more.
The fragrance was disturbingly pleasant, as was the fur’s texture, but the uncertainty of why such a thing had been done encouraged only a raw feeling of disgust. Worse still, under the soft pile, her dress and undergarments had been removed. Those scented scraps were the only thing covering her nakedness.
Should she stand, not a single piece would be large enough to cover more than one breast at a time.
That frightened her the most. Whoever put her in that cushioned hollow wanted her naked, with no recourse to indulge her modesty once she woke.
They had left her utterly vulnerable.
Edging back until her shoulders met the curved side of the sleeping pit, Morgaine cast off the reeking furs, pulling long, golden curls over her shoulders like a cloak. Drawing skinned knees under her chin, she found someone had washed the mud from her hands, arms, feet, but under her nails, traces of grit remained.
Cringing, Morgaine knew who that someone had to be. The same man who had unabashedly pulled open her dress and let his fingers twist the tip of her breast. The horrid Alpha had touched her in a way only husbands were allowed to touch… and he had done all of this right in front of her mother.
Who cared if he’d also tended to the many bruises on her body? It didn’t matter that they had been smeared with dried healing unguent, that they no longer hurt when poked.
Staring at the flaking orange signs of his attention, she felt great shame prickle all over her skin.
I know what will make you feel better. That’s what he’d said.
She wanted to rub his touch off her skin, grabbing at a random fur scrap to scour the medicine away. Underneath, the bruises had already begun to fade to yellow. Soon they would be completely gone. But the memory of his fingers toying with her breast… that would never leave her mind.
The scabs at her knees looked almost healed. They would shed, the skin would be new, and all the wounds she’d earned trying to be free of Alpha monsters would be gone.
Just as her dress was gone. Just as her mother was gone.
Mother…
Morgaine could still hear her mother screaming, begging, as the Alpha scooped her up against his rough armor and carted her out the door. And what had she done? Nothing, she’d hung from his arms like a stuffed doll, eyes rolling back—her last view the cottage rafters hung with their bunches of drying herbs.
There had never even been a goodbye.
Because Morgaine had fallen asleep cradled by a monster who’d threatened to burn her mother alive.
In that moment, she couldn’t hate herself more.
Choking cries, hot tears, were lost against her knees. Her skin might be healing, the bone deep ache in her muscles slowly abating, but the pain in her heart was forever.
Morgaine hoped they came soon to kill her. She prayed that however the Alphas saw fit to execute her would be horrific. She deserved to suffer.
Just as she knew her mother was suffering now.
“It is not necessary to mourn. You’re in no danger, Omega.”
Where he’d come from she did not know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that a stranger was standing over where she’d curled up in despair.
With a startled shriek, Morgaine flew from the cushions. Throwing a knee over the ledge of the sunken bed, she scrambled out and ran naked to the farthest corner of the room.
One look at that Alpha and all her hubris in wishing for death vanished. It was too hard to face the end bravely when the executioner was actually there to drag her to it.
Cowering behind her hair, visibly shaking, she sobbed, “Don’t touch me!”
Stoic in his regard, the Alpha had not moved, and the ease of his stance gave no indication he was preparing to chase her. The stranger in vermilion armor was stone. “My name is Sergeant Uriel. As a mated Alpha of proper rank, I have been tasked with managing your transition.”
Desperate to put something between her naked body and his armored one, Morgaine abandoned her corner and ran behind a table laden with food. Lifting a chair before her, she clutched it close to her chest, ready to swing it as a potential weapon if he thought to pursue.
Adrenaline spiked her heart rate, made her pupils contract, and even added spite to her tongue. “What happened to my mother?”
“You were procured by Corporal Esin. Any penalties that were inflicted on the Beta woman you will need to ask him about yourself.” Sergeant Uriel took a step closer. “Put the chair down.”
Modesty be damned. She raised her weapon higher. “No.”
“You were ill when he found you, and would not have survived much longer without the care of a vigilant Alpha.” Another measured step brought Sergeant Uriel closer. “Omegas require specific attention. Here, you will receive that attention.”
That word again, that hated title used to make naughty children behave else they be taken. To be Omega was to be something terrible. “I am not an Omega. Omegas are dangerous, and I’ve never hurt a soul. I’ve never even broken a law.”
The man stopped his advance, cocking a brow as if to point out the falsehood of her last statement.
She didn’t know where the boldness came from. Perhaps it was because she knew her end was near. What point was there in holding her tongue now? “There is no law that says colonists have to be present when Alphas invade to steal our crops and livestock.”
“Impudence is not tolerated, Omega. Neither are lies. I’ll forgo teaching you a lesson this once, as you are adapting to this new situation and are visibly upset. Yet I caution you not to test my benevolence.”
The way he’d spoken the word lesson, how his voice had dropped and grown cold, put ice in Morgaine’s veins. Her skin grew clammy, the hairs on her arms stood up on end. Even her throat grew tight. More tears came, and with much less confidence, she said, “I’m not an Omega.”
A decisive step her way, face one of severe disapproval, and the Alpha murmured, “You have no concept of what would have happened to you if left in Beta society. Had you, you would have submitted to the first Alpha to cross your path and begged him to take you away.”
Never. Never in a million years would she have done such a thing. Such thoughts didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Morgaine’s disgust was written all over her face.
Sergeant Uriel was not waylaid by her narrowed eyes or sneer. He pressed forward another step. “At your first estrous, you would have been raped by every capable male in your village, the population of your settlement fighting one another to mount you until you died. The violence would not have been their fault. It would have been yours for presuming to hide from our eyes.” Another measured step. “Omegas are indeed very dangerous.”
She did not understand the term estrous, but the picture he painted was nausea inducing. “You’re sick.”
He never wavered, Uriel’s expression neutral as he said, “Not one of them—pubescent boys, grown men, the elderly—would have been able to stop themselves. How many would have died for your pride? Your mother surely would have been murdered had she tried to keep you from the rabid crowd.”
Mouth sour, breath shallow and irregular, Morgaine shook her head. “My neighbors are peaceful people. I don’t know what your estrous is, but things like you describe do not happen in my settlement.”
The Alpha gestured to her right. “Recordings of such moments have been set aside for your required viewing so that you may understand what would have been your fate.”
Like magic, the wall came alive with images. Air filling with screams, moans, all nature of horrific noises, Morgaine looked without thinking and saw horrors. Bodies climbing over bloody bodies, a throng of violence moving like a twisting mass of snakes. In the center of it was a slack-mouthed girl, her eyes pitch black as she was mauled beyond recognition.
Morgaine could not tell if the female was fighting the mob or pulling them nearer.
All she saw were the fluids and the gore.
Never had she seen a naked male’s erect member. A great many were displayed on that living wall… grotesque and bulbous and bloody. Never again did she want to see another.
Yet it was impossible to tear her eyes away.
The screams grew louder.
Dropping the chair to press her hands to her ears did not block out horrific screeches that would haunt her until she died.
Just like the girl on the screen died.
Yet, the poor Omega’s death had not stopped the mob from fighting for any of the girl’s orifices they might penetrate.
Her corpse was literally torn apart.
Morgaine bent forward, dry heaving over her feet, and Sergeant Uriel closed the final distance between them. Her long golden hair was gathered away from an ashen face so the screen was still in her view. Fist tight against her roots, Sergeant Uriel pulled, forcing her head to angle back so she might watch the scene in its entirety.
The story on the wall continued, the man at her side narrating what was projected before her. “When their rut subsided, the men were beside themselves with shame. The entire settlement had to be eradicated and replaced. Every last settler died because Esmeralda, like you, had avoided collection.”
The next images were of the bodies laid out side by side in a mass grave. All ages, all stations, everyone just as the Alpha had claimed.
Despite his grip on her hair, Morgaine fell to her knees.
“Shall we view Chen’s death next?”
Wailing, “No,” Morgaine conceded, willing to say anything to make it stop. “I am whatever you say I am.”
Sergeant Uriel’s touch grew gentle. Leaning down, he put an arm around her middle and helped the distraught girl to her feet. A deep purr colored his next words. “We have learned it is best to be direct when faced with the rare feral. You must be made to recognize that what was done was done for your benefit. Here, Omegas are loved, protected by Alphas. Understanding this is key—”
Bile rose up to burn the back of her throat. “Loved?”
The sergeant sat her in the very chair she’d thought to wield as a weapon, assuring with a rich purr and careful touch. “Yes, loved. I love my mate very much.”
