Auctioned: An Omegaverse Anthology

by Merel Pierce

  I need her teeth to mar my skin. I need her body wrapped around mine. I need her thoughts in my head.

  Finally, I can open my eyes. Upon recognizing a few of the instruments surrounding me, savage rage blooms in my chest. The cage of needles pressed against my skin is not something I’ve seen before, but it makes moving impossible.

  The sight of torture devices and scientific inventions doesn’t spark a single ounce of fear within me. I have one goal: to reach my Omega.

  A figure clad in white appears from behind a curtain. They step up to a large console and begin pressing buttons.

  A mask wraps around my face and I’m engulfed in another world.

  Her beautiful face fills my vision, her eyes lethal, the soft roundness of her form replaced by that of a sleek killer. Pain knifes through my abdomen, so strong and consuming that my snarl stops, and bile threatens to rise in my throat.

  Her visage disappears and the pain immediately stops.

  Then once again her scent fills my senses and I try to detach from my instincts, but they have me flying into a rage trying to reach her. Lightning streaks inside of my head and pain fills my every molecule while my Omega smirks at me.

  Darkness, painless, reprieve.

  Her taste fills my mouth, saliva gathering as I remember her delicious responses. Agonizing torment explodes there a moment later, as if someone has ripped my fangs from my gums.

  Blankness, wound-free, respite.

  Her breasts fill my hands, but her curves are less robust, less enticing, and my hands are shaking. Fire licks up my palms, searing and burning all of my matter into flaky, black char. Suffering and misery fill me as her eyes burn into my soul.

  Emptiness, comfort, rest.

  Her pussy surrounds my cock, gripping my barbs, squeezing my knot. A terrible shaking begins within my chest and emotions I’ve never allowed myself to feel arise.

  Fear. Doubt. Weakness.

  Unimaginable pain erupts from my most sensitive organ and I splinter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Omega

  I wake up dazed, my vision blurry. The blinding light shining down on me is doing little to improve the situation.

  The familiar haze of drugs running through my veins incites a sluggish panic. For a moment, the void inside me makes no sense. But then the truth slams into my skull.

  My Alpha no longer holds me.

  Everything hurts.

  I squint, but quickly realize that my neck is bent, gravity carrying it back beyond comfort, forcing my face up to the light. My wrists hold all of my weight, extending upward and stretching my joints painfully far.

  The balls of my feet barely brush a freezing, slippery surface. I flex my toes, easing some weight from my arms, and have to stifle a shout of agony.

  A slimy warmth oozes down my upper thighs, but something already cakes my skin, and moving the tiny bit I already have has awakened pain deep within me.

  New tears follow the dried tracks of their predecessors.

  Suppressing my urge to grunt in pain, I slowly engage my arm muscles and pull my head to the other side of my shoulders. The sight that greets me has me immediately heaving, but that only makes everything hurt worse, so I force my abdominal muscles to relax.

  A huge puddle of blood lies under me. In various stages of coagulation, my life source covers the insides of both of my legs, a hideous trail leading to my sex.

  Higher up, where his wondrous fangs once pierced my breast, a gaping wound leaks crimson. The jagged, ripped skin tells a horrendous story.

  The assholes ripped him from me while his knot was still seated in my cunt—and while he blessed me with his mating venom.

  Internally I allow myself a moment of pity and sorrow, mourning the ruination of such an intimate moment. Externally I harden my whole being and detach my heart. My training kicks in and I quickly catalog my surroundings: four walls, a roof, a floor, my restraints, and absolutely nothing else. There are no visible windows or doors.

  It’s not the most promising of situations.

  Ignoring my anguish, I stretch my toes and take most of my weight onto their tips. I explore my restraints with my fingers, noting the feel of the material and the tension along my wrists.

  A soft noise reaches my ears and I relax my toes so it appears as though I truly cannot find purchase on the ground. I seamlessly change my adept finger-searching to uncoordinated fumbling.

  Unshod feet enter my periphery and I raise my head, easily portraying an injured, scared Omega female.

  Shit. Three large males have surrounded me, completely nude and emanating nothing but rage. They all have the markers of my Alpha’s species—perfect humanoid features, bright hair, and glowing skin. There’s Orange, Green, and Blue.

  Dread knots inside my chest, but determination lurks in my marrow.

  My Alpha has marked me. I will find him and finish the bond. The vague strum of the link between us bolsters my courage.

  Orange, the male directly in front of me, swings his massive paw and pain explodes along my face. “Where is your base located, spy scum?” he snarls.

  My jaw throbs and a new line of blood drips from my bottom lip. I gather a bit into my mouth, swallowing what nutrients I can.

  My body swings through the momentum of his slap, twisting my wrists painfully. Then a huge hand grabs my jaw and Blue’s face is an inch from mine.

  “Where is your training facility?” he demands.

  I stare defiantly at him. I’ve surpassed such archaic methods long ago. This I can withstand indefinitely.

  A hand grabs my breast and squeezes. Another yanks my hair, jerking my head back. The demented desire in Blue’s eyes curdles my sensibilities, but I refuse to look away.

  They manhandle me, groping and hurting and spitting questions at me, and all the while Blue stares into my eyes, searching for weakness. I show him none.

  But inside I’m wailing. I long for my Alpha’s protection. I weep for our short interlude.

  Still I endure. I refuse to retreat into my protective barrier of numbness, keeping vigilant, hating every millisecond their bodies touch mine. Even as Blue watches for my break, I map out my escape. I only need the smallest opening.

  Large hands envelope my hips and someone lifts my body from behind.

  The weight disappears from my wrists as agony flares in my sex. One of their cocks rubs along my ruined folds and pain floods my nerve endings.

  I scream, not needing to feign my response.

  With their attention diverted, I crack my left thumb into my palm, use my right fingers to loosen the loop, and slide my left hand out of the bindings. Snapping my thumb back into its socket, I quickly repeat the process, freeing my right hand as well.

  My blood has served as lubricant, and whoever has hold of me has forced an inch of his disgusting cock inside my entrance. Despair coats every fiber of my being, but I push it clear of my intentions.

  Using the restraint for balance, I unleash my training. Even with my blood loss and injuries, my devotion to my Alpha reigns supreme. I will not die knowing I failed to mark him.

  I gouge eyes, rip out chunks of flesh with my teeth, tear through tissue with my nails, strike pressure points, and jab with elbows and knees. I fight and retaliate in any manner I have available, all the while looking for an escape.

  But they overpower me. All of my discipline and might cannot compare to three Alpha males intent on destruction and defilement.

  Any pain I inflict, they return to me threefold.

  *

  I was bloody and broken before they laid their hands on me.

  Now here I dangle again in the same spot. Barely an inch of me isn’t bruised or bloody.

  Their semen runs down my body, a disgusting coating along my chest—a revolting addition to the blood trailing down my legs.

  I’m so depleted I can’t even force myself to gag at the vile mixture tainting me. And with nothing to physically fight, my soul cracks.

  The depths of
hell would be easier to endure. I have failed. I am a wretched husk of abused flesh, weak and defenseless. Humiliated and used.

  The only bit of light in my universe is the tiny thread connecting me to my Alpha.

  As I focus on it, its glow strengthens and I fling all of my emotions into my signal, unable to stop the shattering of my heart. The link swells along with my unshed tears. My ragged, pained breaths ripple my misery through the thread. The gaping, oozing hole within my soul stretches into the connection between us.

  I convey my brokenness to my Alpha, silently begging for his forgiveness. For his help. For his love.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alpha

  The darkness is my only reprieve. Pain, fear, and confusion lurk around the edges, but in the darkness, I can find stagnancy.

  The light brings her morphed image, and I can no longer decipher what is true and what is false. Too many rounds of agony have left me disoriented and lost.

  So, I float in the inky blackness, sequestering my mind from all the misery. Denying my instincts and desires. Not allowing any thoughts or emotions to intrude.

  An oddly pleasant tug begins deep behind my breastbone. A faint shimmer of light glows inside of my chest, more real than any of the sensations thrust upon my psyche.

  Suddenly my Omega’s full predicament resonates within my soul. Her agony, her misery, and her pain break me out of my stasis, creating a rage so consuming and manic that no other force could dampen it.

  My Omega is lost, hurting, and shattering. My life-mate needs me. My venom flows through her veins, a beacon between us. I will fail her no longer.

  A rumble full of my wrath floods the rooms, sending shockwaves through the equipment surrounding me. Every molecule inside my body expands in fury, my muscles strengthened with monolithic power.

  Creaks and splintering turn to shattering and bursting. The sound of tiny shards hitting each other as they clatter to the ground fills the air. The needle-sharp points along my flesh break my skin, pinpricks of blood welling out.

  I easily ignore the pain, her pleas reverberating through each of my cells.

  I reach up and rip the mask off my face, not needing any time for my eyes to adjust. My surroundings cannot change my focal point. I have one all-consuming goal, and nothing will deter me.

  My Omega needs me.

  Enemies surround me, but they cannot break my fierce determination. Screams cut short, bones snap, blood gushes, and bodies fly. The gory catastrophe left in my wake is absolute; I leave not a single opponent alive. Entrails and body parts mingle along every surface of the room. Blood drips from the ceiling.

  My own species torn to bits, all because they dare attempt to keep me from my life-mate.

  I rip the now crimson curtain in two and barrel into the hallway. Following her call, even as it dims and ebbs, I do not hesitate. Countless personnel, soldiers, and scientists’ bodies litter the pathway behind me.

  My female is in the next room. The reinforced door shudders under my fury, requiring less than three lunges before it crumples inward.

  The light shining down in the center of the room reveals the worst of scenes. Never will I work through the horrendous barrage of suffering it inflicts on my senses.

  My beautiful, perfect female hangs from torn and bleeding wrists. Several of her fingernails are missing, discoloration mars her skin, and even her face is wretchedly swollen. The wave of smells assaulting my nose tell the worst kind of story. The musk of other Alphas sends uncontrollable woe and rage through my body.

  The blood seeping from her pussy rips my heart into jagged little strips.

  My knot began that misery. Our joining was defiled by evil. What should have been an intimate, joyous moment has now become the beginning of torture.

  Her eyes slit open, her despair and misery overwhelming.

  I dart forward, unable to stand the distance between us even though the stench burns my nostrils. I focus on the sweet scent of her blood, imagining it between my lips, being mine and only mine.

  Knowing that wherever I touch her will cause pain, I gently align my naked body to her front and push my purr into her chest.

  I conjure up the most honest, comforting vibrations I’ve ever created, wrapping my arms around her, trying to soothe and protect her.

  She angles her face up to mine. The myriad of emotions that flicker across her expressions could take millennia to decipher. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, I reach up and grab the restraint that connects her to the ceiling. One sharp tug and the roof cracks. Another tug and it releases the end of her tether.

  Her arms flop, dropping a bit before I stop their descent. I bring the rope to my fangs and rip through them, freeing her hands.

  Her cracked, shaking knuckles flex as she weakly attempts to return circulation to them.

  I hook my arm under her knees and pull her side against my chest, attempting to keep her close to my purr.

  With my Omega enveloped in my arms, relative calm eases the grip of my anger. My deep, resonant purr comes easier, my sole focus on reassuring and rescuing her.

  We must move to a safer location. My transporter is too traceable. But an escape pod will suffice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Omega

  The excruciating pain infusing my body lessens, my Alpha’s chest emanating the most addicting vibration. I lean my ear against him, trying to block out the cacophony of torment shooting through my anatomy.

  Little scabs scrape my swollen face, and I realize that tiny drops of dried blood cover him. I’ve broken a few off with my rubbing, and the smell of his enticing life force overrides all other input.

  My mouth opens and I fill it with his skin, clamping down until my incisors break through. Pure bliss fills my mouth. I consume, wishing I had venom to infuse into his bloodstream. But even being human and unable to force any of my physical matter into his body, I feel him devour me.

  Our souls intertwine, my misery blending with his darkness, our visions of the future fusing together. The once fragile thread between us flares and becomes a living stream of communication.

  My purr of contentment joins his deep reverberations, and our bonding is complete.

  But we cannot bask in the glow. Danger lurks around every corner, and I am not capable of physically fighting anymore.

  But as I swallow more and more of his delicious blood, I feel strength return to my battered muscles. My torn tissues meld, partially healing, the pain lessening to a point of management.

  The more I take from him, the stronger his chest vibrates and the easier it is to focus my mind.

  I abruptly stop, unwilling to weaken him too much. I retract my teeth, unabashedly lapping up the droplets trailing down his chest.

  “Mine,” my hoarse, damaged voice declares.

  My Alpha looks down at me, his fangs fully extended, a mesmerizing light shining from his white pupils. The purple glow emanating from both of our skins is an exact match, even through the gore covering us.

  He leans down and plasters his mouth to mine, heedless of my busted lip and the trauma we’ve both suffered. Our tongues tangle, his texture and taste etched into my memory. We will forever need each other, eternally linked.

  My Alpha. My soulmate.

  A faint noise drifts down the hallway, and we both snap to attention.

  “Put me down,” I croak, desperately wanting to stay in his arms, but knowing that I can’t leave him so indisposed.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he gingerly lowers my legs to the floor. Spots dance in front of my vision, but I brace myself against him and force my body to follow commands. He circles his left arm around my shoulders, keeping me plastered to his side while I hobble along, refusing to allow my internal injuries to overtake me.

  We enter the hall, and the scene which has unfolded there shows the unmerciful and feral side of my Alpha. We trudge through the filth much slower than I’d prefer, but my whole-body swims in pain and weakness.

  A familia
r, abhorrent blue face stares blankly down the way, the skull crushed so totally that brain matter oozes through the waste. An odd, slightly detached feeling of vindication blooms behind my ribs.

  A few steps down the passageway, my Alpha stoops, picks something off the floor, and places it into my palm. A cool, smooth bit of metal fits into my fist, the hilt of the dagger just a blunt version of the bladed side.

  More stilted movements bring us past an orange carcass, claw marks ravaging the face into an unrecognizable pulp. The view of another of my rapists’ brutal endings infuses my chest with a fuller sense of retribution.