Auctioned: An Omegaverse Anthology

by Merel Pierce

  Half a foot from the orange Alpha is what’s left of the green one’s remains. Entrails splatter across all visible surfaces, a gory, stinking pile of broken matter, no one part more discernible from the other. But the glimpses of flesh leave no doubt in my mind that this was my third tormentor.

  Muted relief and gratitude rush through me. His is a death I will never mourn.

  We return to our task of escaping. Our route mostly follows my Alpha’s path of destruction. His brutality only bolsters my love for him. His killing spree was meant to free me. To save me. Each unattached limb is proof of his love for me. Each death shows his desperation to be with me.

  We arrive at the row of tiny escape pods and a sense of foreboding descends onto me. We’ll be more vulnerable in one of these little tin cans than we were while slowly progressing naked through the hallways.

  But he knows the layout and workings of this station. He’s thought this through. We must get into one of these tiny tubes.

  He shifts me to his front and wraps both his arms around my frame. I clutch his broad shoulders, thankful to have his strength to rely on.

  He ducks into a pod and pushes the release button, and we shoot away from Command Central. He’ll never be able to return. I look up and meet his eyes, hating the vulgar smells wafting up from my skin. Despising my inability to protect what is his.

  “You are my everything. My life-mate,” he states simply, caressing my hair.

  The truth shines from his eyes as brightly as his halo of neon hair, speckled with filth, that frames his face.

  Having his bulk surround me and his purr weave its way through every fiber of my being solidifies my sense of completion.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alpha

  To lose my Omega would mean utter ruin. I’d fall to unbridled hatred and become an unstoppable killing machine, as witnessed in the halls we’ve left behind.

  My heart beats for her. She is the better part of me, sweet and feminine. She completes and balances me.

  I’d kill for water to wash her with. I long to delve into her sweet scent untainted by filth and torment.

  It will be a long road, but we will recover. We will find a safe place and soothe one another, spending countless days exploring our new life together. We will fight through nightmares and battle with invisible scars, even as her body heals.

  A warning ping sounds from the console and the dread seeping into the bond from her returns. She sensed this would occur. My purr immediately becomes a growl, my hackles rise and all my senses go on alert.

  No more harm will come to my Omega. I will protect her at all costs.

  A ship smaller than my personal transport pulls our pod toward it. It came from nowhere, and I get the distinct impression that its cloaking capabilities were engaged. They were shamelessly hiding in plain sight.

  Decompressing air hisses as the pod docks to the ship. I rotate to face the door, keeping my Omega behind me, acting as her living barrier, her demonic protector.

  The door glides open, and on the other side is a small chamber. In the far corner, partially eclipsed in shadow, is a Beta male wearing odd, formfitting clothing and assessing me with shrewd eyes. His peppered hair is short on the sides, but the top has enough length to show a wavy mass of gray and black. His sharp nose and strong chin give off an air of calculation. This Beta is larger than most, but his bulk is no match for mine.

  Through our bond, I feel the history between this Beta and my life-mate. Nothing can stop the intense snarl that surges from my throat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Omega

  Memories flash through my mind. The Beta’s handsome face as he coerces me to try again, not an ounce of pity in his eyes. His gentle words of praise as I return successful from my first mission. The immature crush I carried for him in my preteen years. His soft hands as he helped me through my first heat. His unrelenting countenance in training sessions. His strict eyes showing disapproval in my failed attempts.

  Now, with my true Alpha in front of me, the Beta that once ruled my days seems puny and undeserving. His eyes hold a coldness that slaps me in the face. All the years I looked to him for acceptance—when I did unspeakable things for his encouragement—when I yearned for his praise—he orchestrated all of it.

  He ruthlessly used my Omega instincts against me, even while training me to revolt against them. How blind I’d been.

  Now he raises his arm and aims his gun at my Alpha.

  “Exit the pod and take two steps to your right,” he instructs, and the sound of his weapon charging sends dread through me.

  My Alpha’s deep, threatening growl continues, his menace filling the air.

  I push my vague plan through the bond, urging him to comply. Continuing to heap his threatening vibrations through the room, he slowly moves through the instructed actions.

  My handler keeps his weapon trained on my Alpha, but his eyes focus on my destroyed body. His pupils dilate, but no real shock crosses his face. Instead he only meets my stare, not even a bit of sympathy visible in his gaze.

  “Give me the file,” he demands, pointing at the floor a foot in front of his boots.

  Shaking, weak, and damaged, I hobble forward, keeping my hand on the wall for support. I move closer to my handler, and my Alpha’s growl grows unbelievably deeper. I focus my demands for his compliance through our bond.

  I move farther than my handler is comfortable with and he raises his hand in warning. “Toss it from there. Onto the floor.”

  I stand there, misery coating every inch of me, easily portraying the wretched, humiliated female. My mate and I both know that there is no file, but the Beta across from us firmly believes I have it in my possession. Given my years of training, this act is easier than shuffling the few steps I’ve just barely managed. Tears trail down my face.

  “I need help to… retrieve it.” I say, my damaged vocal cords grinding through the ugly words. I gesture to my abdomen, not even bothering to feign embarrassment. Nothing of me has ever been off-limits to this Beta, and the reason is clear now. He’s manipulated me all of my life.

  His impatient sigh is barely audible over my Alpha’s snarl.

  “He’ll do it.” He gestures at my Alpha. “Present for him,” he demands, a sickening glint of interest in his eyes.

  The tension in the room is extreme. We are all on edge, ready to attack at any moment.

  Agony fills me as I partially collapse to the floor, unable to find any grace in my current state. My wounds protest, but I keep my blade hidden from view. My neck droops, my filthy, matted hair cascading around me. I keep my face shielded from sight, continuing my calculations, searching for the perfect moment.

  “Slowly move to her. No extra movements. Don’t worry about damage. Get me the file. You have twenty-five seconds,” my mentor instructs, his harsh features set.

  I shakily but determinedly encourage my Alpha to follow through with my plan. His deep vibrations resonate through the air and his outrage nearly consumes all of my available thought processes, but his calculations join mine. He understands.

  As my Alpha approaches me from behind, I brace for what’s coming.

  He pushes his massive fingers against my injured backside, and I shriek, a sound of genuine pain.

  Before the pitch of my scream increases, I fling my arm forward, flicking my wrist.

  His weapon fires.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alpha

  Her blade slices into the Beta’s throat, the force behind her technique so exact that the handle sticks straight out above his Adam’s apple. The unexpected impact jerks his entire body backwards and his arm shifts before he can reflexively pull the trigger.

  The blast hits the ceiling above her head, little shards of metal raining down on her. I extract my fingertips and lurch over her, shielding her from the particles.

  Her panting breaths reveal how much that throw cost her. Her muscles give out and she crumples to the floor, my hand catching her he
ad before it can smack into the hard surface.

  The Beta collapses, issuing wet gurgling sounds from his throat as he fights for his last breath. The puddle of blood underneath him seeps toward us and he finally stops moving. I gather my mate into my arms and stand.

  Looking down into her battered face, I purr strongly, amazed at her resilience and strength. I wish I could take away the trials of her past, but I also know that they molded her into who she is today.

  “We need to get rid of him. And leave,” she adds, her voice weak and strained.

  I stalk to the cockpit, holding her close in the narrow passageway. She’s too injured to place in the seat, and I’m not willing to part from her for even a second. I stand there, ready to navigate while holding her in my arms, but she reaches forward and manipulates the controls.

  The cloaking device engages, and the universe takes on a muted quality. A barely perceptible hum surrounds us and a bit of me relaxes. We aren’t out of danger, but we are safer than we’ve been since I woke up captured.

  The craft departs, no set destination programmed, but a direction chosen. My Omega pushes a few more buttons and a variation of autopilot begins. It will avoid obstacles and return us to the original course.

  Her urgency to get rid of the Beta’s body pulses through our link, so I retrace my steps and return to the docking bay.

  Still unwilling to be apart from her, I stand against the wall, purring and holding her close. We came so close to destruction. Too close.

  The scent of his death moves me to action. I prop her against the wall, holding her face to my chest for a moment, and silently promising to never cease comforting her before I reluctantly pull away.

  Her tiny fingers cover as much of my wrist as they can. Her grip on my skin is electric and my purr turns darker, my desire for her hands all over me stepping in. She locks eyes with me, and a delicious, feminine sound rumbles out of her chest.

  She’s comforting me. This wretched, injured little female is offering me comfort, something I don’t deserve. I didn’t protect her. I was weak.

  “My Alpha. My mate,” she murmurs, piercing my soul with her luminescent blue eyes. The truth resonates within me, and our unbreakable bond envelopes us both.

  Her other palm caresses my face and she tilts her lips up to mine. Unable to resist her call, I stoop and seal my lips to hers.

  The meeting of our mouths is a direct representation of our spiritual connection. We will always glide against each other, finding pleasure and completion.

  She sags, and I feel just how depleted her energy is. I carefully lay her on the floor, eager to dump the Beta’s corpse so I can take care of her.

  Even while prone, her purr continues and her eyes, slitted in exhaustion, follow me.

  I cram the Beta’s remains into the escape pod, using some high-tech packing material to sop up his blood and send him into the abyss of space. Then I rush back to my mate, unwilling to dally when she’s so close to unconsciousness and still reeks of other Alphas.

  I gather her off the floor and carry her to the sleeping quarters, which has one corner devoted to hygiene purposes.

  I look down at her, searching for her eyes, but they’ve closed. Her faint purring feels wondrous, but I can sense her fatigue and pain. She needs for me to wash, feed, and comfort her.

  I step into the cleaning chamber and choose the most gentle, basic setting. Water circulates around us, and I move her delicately so all of her gets cleansed.

  Her raw, open wounds still seep blood, the chunk missing from her breast reminding me of our broken moment. A foul taste fills my mouth, but I know that I’ll have my fangs in her again, many times, doing all I can to erase the memory of our captivity.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Omega

  My Alpha’s large, calloused hands spreading the ointments and bandages over my skin is both painful and soothing. His careful ministrations are completely at odds with the annihilation he performed in the hallways.

  He has slathered my face and arms in a salve that immediately numbs the pain, reduces the swelling, and speeds the healing process. His massive digits carefully work it over my torso, rubbing it gently into my breasts. A swell of emotions pulsates through our bond, but I’m numb.

  Before he began to clean my injuries, he slowly tipped a cup of tonic into my mouth, knowing that shock was hitting me full-force. The warmth cocooning me is perfect because of the addition of his reverberations.

  Our scents mingle with only the antiseptic of the ointment intruding. The absence of the revolting males is wonderful, even if the memories are still too fresh for me to dismiss.

  His anger pulses clearly along our bond, and I understand. My body is a testament to the horrors I endured today. His tongue glides along the jagged skin of his ruined mating mark, his deep purr taking on a cooing tone. His promise of correction shifts some of my misery further away, and I know that however difficult this journey may be, I’ll gladly embark upon it if it means I can be with him.

  Tenderly he strokes his finger over the wound, his other hand caressing my hips, ass, legs, and feet. My tangled emotions loosen, and I feel as though I am floating in a warm lake, his touch like the sun alighting my flesh.

  When he finally parts my legs, I have no will to hide from him. Mortification and sorrow still burrow through me, but his steady purring shows his determination to care for me. All of me.

  I can’t help but flinch as he moves his hand toward my center. My torment is still too recent, too raw and miserable. But he efficiently feathers the ointment over my whole pussy, his purr morphing into a growl now. He carefully inserts a device, and after a clicking noise, cool relief coats my insides and tears seep from my eyes.

  My body may heal in the next few days, but my mind will require much more to staple back together.

  But I have faith in him. Deep in my soul, I know he’ll be my strength, my beacon of love throughout the rest of my life.

  His enraged growl cuts off, and as he reverently closes my legs, his purr quickly starts up again.

  The blankets bunch around me and my Omega heart melts. My Alpha scoops all the bed coverings up with me, carrying me and all the soft material to the cockpit. He settles in the chair, building a nest around both of us and providing the comfort I desire, but cannot perform myself.

  Curled into his chest, safe with my Alpha, I allow my mind to relax.

  His arms shift as he takes control of the vessel. We may not know where we’re heading or what we’ll come across, but it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.

  The ship shifts to hyper-drive and we jettison through space, ready to annihilate any obstacles that threaten to come between us.

  *

  Travel on, lost souls.

  Endings are beginnings.

  V.T. Bonds

  https://vtbonds.wordpress.com/

  Skylar’s Story

  Sneaking In: Skylar’s Story Part 1

  Breaking In: Skylar’s Story Part 2

  Staying In: Skylar’s Story Part 3

  Alpha Elite Series

  Unknown Omega

  Eli’s Hellcat

  By

  Merel Pierce

  Chapter One

  Elias couldn’t stand the noise in the pens this time of year.

  In preparation for the week-long festival sales, slaves were being shipped in from all over the continent and transferred down from the space station orbiting above. The result was overcrowded, noisy pens.

  Cells that normally held one or two Omega and Beta slaves now held five to seven. Alphas couldn’t be housed together, which forced more and more of the lower-dynamic slaves into cramped quarters with each new shipment of Alpha stock.

  The constant chatter couldn’t be quelled when there were so many people. Under normal circumstances the threat of an electric prod was enough to silence a solitary offender. But when the whole damn hall was packed? There was no winning.

  It was one of the reasons Elias preferre
d working in the reject hall. Even when the pens were crammed as full as the main halls, the mood was different there. Desolate, desperate, resigned, the rejects knew what fate awaited them. They knew there was no chance of rescue or reprieve. Well, at least not for most of them.

  Once a month the rejected or damaged slaves were hauled out of the city by the armored transport, destined for a disposal station in the nearby desert. On occasion a slave would go missing en route, pulled for sale on the black market by some guard who had the right connections. They were marked dead on arrival and no one was the wiser. From what he’d heard, it was an even more common practice at the disposal station itself.