by Addison Cain
Yet she was very much caught in the tempting throes of lust. All of this from watching one pair grunting on the screen.
And she had not even seen them fucking... she’d only seen the Alpha’s back and the Omega’s face.
Perhaps her horrid neighbor had been right. She was a harlot.
Her eyes left the Alpha, traveling to feast upon the fur scraps in the sunken bed. A whisper of so much softness against her skin; that would cool this heat. She could sprawl about that nest, roll around and luxuriate like a cat. Find what she needed.
Uriel purred temptation with a voice of pure velvet. “An experienced Alpha is waiting right outside the door, Morgaine. Shall I let him in?”
A stranger in a strange room who would touch her in an odd sunken bed saturated by the scent of many males. Why that sounded delicious, she could not say.
“It could be more than one Alpha. Do you wish to sample those with the greatest stake in claiming you as theirs? They would spoil you.”
Multiple males?
Esmeralda had died horribly being savaged by multiple males. Her murder had been a sad, frightening thing.
Fear sobered her.
As if he saw the change, Uriel increased the sound of his purr. “They would be gentle, Morgaine. Exceedingly careful.”
Esin had not been gentle when he’d grabbed her arm and forced it from her breasts. He had not been gentle when he’d wrapped her fingers around his cock and jerked her fist up and down.
Had they been exceedingly careful when they’d held her mother against the wall by her neck? How about when they branded that sweet woman’s face? Were the Alphas careful in that?
This whole situation was absurd.
In one day, she’d woken in fear, watched a gruesome death, been pawed by a male she despised, ordered around, and covered in semen. Her life was in the hands of Alpha soldiers she could not see—men who manipulated the very room they had trapped her in so she might bend to their will. She had no say. Instead, she was told that she would want everything they had planned for her. And then she had become aroused to the point of insanity by nothing more than images on a wall.
This was not who she was. Her reputation in the settlement was excellent. Morgaine was a steady girl, one who could weave cloth almost as fine as her mother’s.
Her mother... who was alone in their cottage. And she would never see her again. One outlandish projection on the wall could not take away that heartache.
Sexual excitement faded into hopelessness, the change in her scent obvious to them both.
Wretched, Morgaine muttered, “I bet she’s sitting on my cot, right now, crying into my pillow. And unlike myself, I doubt she has eaten anything today. What has been done will destroy her, and there is nothing I can do but sit here and obey.”
“The Beta female was well compensated for her beautiful Omega offspring. She will never have to work again... might even have enough to tempt a settler of standing into taking her as wife. She could have more children, Beta children she could keep.”
Morgaine scoffed outright. “Alphas ruined her future long ago. No settler would have her. It was bad enough that one of you put me in her body, only for another Alpha to take me away. I was her everything... and you burned her face for protecting me from the same fate you forced on her.”
Narrowing his eyes, measuring her words, body language, and anger, Uriel grew unnervingly silent.
Angry over what had been done to her, what had been done to her mother, and that she had no way to fix any of it, Morgaine threw in his face, “You didn’t know? Is it against your code to use Beta women when you come to rob us?” Slinging the newest word in her vocabulary with spite, Morgaine grew mean. “You only mount Omegas?”
A measured answer was offered despite her outright rudeness. “If what you say is confirmed, the Alpha in question will face great penalties. Betas are protected—we assure they never suffer disease, hunger, or war. Alphas design, supply, and protect their Eden, and in exchange we take what’s owed.”
“Protect from what?” She pointed at him, all the unspent lust twisting into spite. “The only thing we have to fear is you.”
Her words set off the musk of Alpha anger. Gritting his teeth, Sergeant Uriel growled, “You have no idea the dangers in this universe. I cannot count the Alphas who have sacrificed their lives so you might flourish in peace. There is war even now, always war, that you, your mother, your people have all been shielded from. Be grateful, and consider why we take Omegas while they are still young. The love you feel for your mother was stolen. It was stolen from your future mate. It belongs to him alone, and he will help you learn that.”
“Then I hate him already.” Turning her head to dismiss the intruder, Morgaine made herself look at the lovers’ continued ecstasy, and ignored the feeling of more slick trickling down her leg.
Chapter 6
Wrinkling her nose, Morgaine went back to her silent rebellion. A night had passed in that unnatural room. There had been clear instructions on where and how to sleep. Any rest outside the nest would be considered insubordination.
They had left her little choice in the matter.
After supper, Sergeant Uriel had wrestled her out of her garment and left her naked in a shrieking pile on the floor.
“There is no shame in nudity, girl.” He stood over her, stern, huge, and less than impressed to see more tears. “You are beautiful. Your mate will take great joy in seeing you this way.”
Shins to the ground, forehead tucked to her knees, Morgaine kept her arms wrapped around her skull. She wouldn’t be moved, refused to let another male see her unclothed. Tucked into a ball of rage, phrases so unseemly she would have earned a slap even from her sweet mother vomited into the air.
“I cannot allow you to keep the dress and foster a misrepresentation of what to expect once bonded. You are here to learn.” He sounded so calm, so collected, that it enraged her all the more. “Neither Omega or Alpha sleep clothed when in their den. It’s unnatural.”
There was no getting through to the exhausted woman. “I hate you all! GET OUT!”
The lecture continued as if she were sitting prim before him, not in the midst of a meltdown at his feet. “Many Omegas find it more comfortable to remain unclothed the first few years once mated. Not only is it practical, it is considered an act of affection to preen for their Alpha.”
Her screams turned to silent seething.
“You will sleep now. In the nest. You will burrow and use the furs for warmth.” When she refused to move, the grainy nature of his words rolled ominously, and the sergeant’s purr dried up. “If you refuse the comfort of your nest, the consequences will be severe and painful. I will not have you abuse yourself in an effort to be difficult.”
Sensing that he was reaching down, Morgaine used the last of her raw voice to hiss, “If you so much as lay a finger on me, I will bite you!”
“That is an unwise threat to level at an Alpha.” His hand settled between her shoulder blades, firmly planted when she flinched. “A bite from an Omega is something we enjoy. Though my mate would be jealous should I return to her with the marks of your teeth on my flesh.”
That was all it took, that small hint of mockery to bat aside the last of her slipping sanity.
Not even her teeth could threaten them. She had nothing. No possible way off their ship. No idea where in the universe she might be. She didn’t even grasp how the wall became a door.
It sank in slowly while she lay draped over her knees on the floor.
They could do whatever they wanted to her… and they were going to.
They were going to give her clothes only to take them away. They were going to use her hands for their pleasure. They were going to rape her.
No sudden rampage came with cold acceptance, no quickly flung out hand to claw his face. Morgaine only grew silent and still, staring forward and seeing nothing.
“Now, go to bed, Morgaine.”
Not so much as a blink was
offered, Morgaine lost in a mental retreat.
So he dragged her like a sullen child to the sleeping pit, the Omega offering no protest when he laid her down.
She offered no life at all.
He organized her limbs. Kneeling at her side, he scooped up the fur scraps and dumped them over her body for warmth. Sergeant Uriel even used the flat of his hand to brush her unblinking eyes closed. “This transition is only as difficult as you make it, child.”
Was it child now? What happened to girl? How about Omega?
Why had he never once called her woman?
She was of age, possessed all the skills a woman of standing must know. She had even been courted properly by a few young men from the settlement. Every last one of them had heeded her refusal like a man. With dignity and kindness.
Even smarmy Hanna’s boy, Cassius, had only moped for a few days.
Alpha males were the childish ones with their demands and threats if they didn’t get their way. Yet she was the one lying flopped over the cushions of the sleeping pit like a disgruntled toddler.
It wouldn’t do.
How many painful cycles had she weathered when the Alphas came? Dozens. She had borne excruciating pain far more graciously than this. She had endured. She had survived.
She was not a child.
Sniffing, she’d sat up in the dark and let out a troubled sigh.
The room had grown freezing again, the stinking furs offering her only source of warmth. Toying with a piece, she absently ran the soft white fluff back and forth under her fingers.
They wanted her to sleep, but they could not force her.
The could force her body, but they could not bend her mind.
Take away everything, clothes, comfort, safety… but her knowledge and years of experience would always be with her—her weapons in this cold, dark place. And she wanted them to know that.
In the small hours, trapped in a freezing, dark room that stank of men she’d never met, she made a stand.
Like any industrious woman born in a settlement, she knew how to skin, stretch, and cure a beast’s hide. She knew how to prepare it into fine edging for garments and how to line winter clothing for warmth.
Alas, sewing fur required a sturdy needle and thread, two things she did not have. But tearing the edges of soft hide and tying the strips together would bind two pieces just as well. And plenty of fur had been provided.
Under the cover of dark, she worked the scraps of soft fur, ignoring the scent tickling her nostrils. Hour after hour, her fingers grew swollen and stiff from the effort it took to tear hide. She didn’t care, for when her fingers blistered, she used her teeth. As diligent as she would have been over her loom, she grabbed at random bits, rent, tied, knotting segments into panels, until she had enough to cover her nakedness. The faster she worked, the more sloppy her creation grew, fatigue and desperation warring within her body.
When morning came and Sergeant Uriel stepped through that impossible wall, he found her dressing in a mangled fur wrap she was still building around her. Red-rimmed eyes were unwilling to glance up from her work to address him.
“What is the meaning of this?” The Alpha’s question was not aggressive, nor did it carry the weight of imminent punishment. It was merely inquisitive.
Dry lips parted, Morgaine muttering to herself as if lost in a spell. In all of it, only four words made sense. “…I am no child.”
“Put it down, Morgaine.”
Clutching the furs to her chest, she peeled her lips in a snarl and growled. The low uneven rumble, warned of a cornered beast willing to harm itself to harm the other. “You told me to sleep under the furs.”
Bedraggled, eyes sunken, and skin sallow, it was obvious she had not slept at all. The Alpha chose to contemplate, standing at a distance long enough that the Omega went back to tearing and tying, tearing and tying, over and over until she’d gone through all the fur.
When it was complete and there was no more work for her reddened hands, he asked, “And what is it you intend to do with that now?”
Pulling the garment tighter around her body, she ignored the Alpha-stink, and stared forward. “Be warm.”
Stepping into her pit, armored boots distorting the cushions, Sergeant Uriel towered over her. “You were ordered to sleep.”
She blinked, silent and victorious.
“And yet you spend your hours slotted for rest making that.” He gestured to her garment, brow furrowing, and displeasure growing obvious. “Did you think I’d allow you to keep it? That I would not see through this little rebellion?”
Meeting his stone cold gaze, she held her covering all the tighter.
“Now you shall have no dress when Corporal Esin arrives to see to your grooming.”
For such a small exhausted thing, she was remarkably fast in scrambling out from under his legs and fleeing across the room.
“You will unknot every last piece of fur you damaged with your antics.” He made a dash after her, boots loud yet voice unnervingly mellow. “Every last piece, Morgaine.”
Rounding the table, fur skirt caught up in her hands, she evaded again.
No breath was wasted on argument, not when her legs were wobbling and her arms tired from hours of labor. She just continued to run.
But he was so much larger, a hunter, a soldier, and she was only a frightened… child. A child far from her settlement with absolutely no way of ever returning, who wanted nothing more in the world than her mother.
It was her own garment that brought an end to the game of cat and mouse. She tripped on the long skirt and went sprawling, chin hitting the floor with enough force to knock her senseless.
Stars still spun in her vision when Sergeant Uriel turned her over, cursing loudly. He pinned her to the frosty floor, though she was too senseless to properly struggle. Whether it was lack of air from the weight of his boot that sent her spiraling into unconsciousness, or just too many hours of unconscionable anxiety, Morgaine fell into a painful sleep that brought with it no rest.
When she woke, she was back in the sleeping pit, Corporal Esin half-dressed at her side—the man unknotting her dress one bit at a time.
Chest bare, he didn’t seem at all happy with the task of stripping her. In fact, he met her eyes and let her see a man full of heartache. “You shouldn’t have done it, renegade.”
She tried to flop away, to give him her back, but found her leg was caught under a heavy thigh.
“Silence will not make this any easier.”
Jaw aching, she parted her teeth and grimaced at the sharp sting of pain. Hand to her face, testing the bone, she found the slip of medicinal unguent coated her chin.
“You’re lucky your jaw is intact.”
What an outrageous concept. “Lucky?”
Attempting to brush a tangle of hair from her forehead, Esin seemed surprised when she jumped and shoved his hand away. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
The building pressure behind her eyes, the constant throb in her skull, were made all the worse from simple movement. Groaning, she sank back into the pillows, glaring at her tormentor.
He tried again, hand moving slowly, to lift the tangled lock and tuck it behind her ear. “As I said, I have no wish to hurt you. Ever. I bore the brunt of your punishment myself, because I cannot bear to see you in pain.”
He turned at the waist so she might look upon the damage done to his back. Crusted lines of open skin still oozed. “Three stripes.”
Her actions had caused him pain? This was a victory indeed. “I hope it hurts a great deal.”
Smiling as if her callousness was cute, Esin tried to cuddle closer. It did not go as he would have hoped. She tore at her furs, at him, at the bedding in a useless attempt to be free.
And was easily caught.
Whispering a secret, he ignored her thrashing and began picking at a new knot. “I was taken from my mother too, you know. It was a long time ago, but I do remember missing her. That is our way of life, our laws… our
tenets that lead to fulfilment and happiness. We all have our place. Yours is with your Alpha, where you will be loved and spoiled.”
“And when that Alpha fills me with a child, how long before it’s taken from me?”
He paused to consider, weighing his reply in a way that prompted Morgaine’s suspicion. “Your offspring would reside and train on this ship. I could do that for you if it would make you happy.”
“You cannot imagine that any life you paint for me would be one I want. You stole me from the life I wanted. You burned my mother’s face. There is not a single male on this ship I would ever be happy to…”
“Fuck?”
Her skin crawled just seeing the way his eyes burned speaking that word.
More of his weight came to pin her down, Corporal Esin grinning. “Come now, feisty renegade. You make the challenge so much sweeter when you look at me that way. I do love to hunt.”
“Get off of me!”
“My orders are to strip you of this thing, and teach you to accept touch. You will be denied clothing today. I will play with you, then you will be groomed. To show you that your comfort is paramount, I will not use your mouth until your jaw has healed.”
Chapter 7
She never landed so much as a blow.
Thighs shaking, she bore his weight, unable to do more than croak. Throat burning as if she’d swallowed shards of glass, she’d given up on speech, and lay limp just as he desired.
His purr was incessant, conflicting with the random growls he pressed against her throat. Pulled back and forth between the two manipulative noises, she’d grown listless and edgy, angry and sullen, but mostly tired and pained by the position.
“Do you feel where I am touching you? There are nerves here, renegade, whose only purpose is sexual pleasure.” He groaned as he stroked, teasing at a throbbing nubbin of flesh at the apex of her sex.
There was no pleasure in being held down, or screaming until one’s voice was lost.
“You are producing slick,” Esin’s voice caught, Morgaine certain he was holding on by a thread. The man had already sucked his fingers clean more times than she could count, mmmming over them as his eyes rolled back.
