by V T Bonds
Unleashed Omega
Alpha Elite Series Book 6
V.T. Bonds
Copyright © 2021 by V.T. Bonds
Cover design by V.T. Bonds
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
*This story is not for the faint of heart. It is a dark action-packed Omegaverse story set in a world where violence and sexual situations occur. Scenes are not glossed over. Sensitive readers please abstain. Proceed with caution.*
Dedication
To my followers — if you’ve been here from the beginning, then you’ve enjoyed the basics of this story before. It was published in the anthology Auctioned as The Omega Spy. I’ve changed a few things, but the main plot points remain the same. Still, it ties into The Alpha Elite Series as I intended for it to all those months ago. You’ll need these stepping stones to grasp the nuances in the series finale, Unified Omegas. Enjoy!
To those who haven’t read this before—beware. As dark as the other Alpha Elite books have been, this one contains a much darker theme. If you can push through the torture, I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel.
Chapter One
Omega
I am Omega.
Chained.
Kneeling.
Alone and frightened.
Kicked and cowed, abused and discarded, set aside until it’s my turn to attract every attending male’s attention.
Appearances can be deceiving.
The truth?
I’m not scared. The leering eyes and demented smirks don’t bother me. In fact, these cages are some of the easiest times in my life—seclusion, ample sustenance, clean water, and no need for scheming or subterfuge.
And silence.
Rarely do I get to enjoy the absence of voices and external input. It’s comfortable. A time to recharge.
A few days set apart from the chaos of life.
It isn’t devoid of purpose. I must play the part when being observed but, overall, I find more peace here than in any other place.
It gives me time to remember the good in life. I’m able to bask in the security of knowing my best friend still lives, for even though it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen her, the connection we have remains intact. It’s stilted, since we both shield one another from our troubles, but knowing we could still meet up someday keeps me centered.
I stiffen when boots stroll toward my enclosure, pulling on the scared yet haughty façade my jailer expects from me.
His elongated face and sharp-looking scales make creating an expression of fury and terror easy. Keeping up with the pretense, I straighten my shoulders and gulp down pretend fear.
“Comfy, slave?” the reptilian-like Alpha asks.
Each of my jailers have given me special treatment, even if it’s just an evil side glare, but this one…
He hates me.
I squint at him and hold my spine rigid, refusing to shrink away when he bares a fang at me, but pouring terrified pheromones into the air so he thinks he’s affecting me.
“Careful, bitch, or I’ll petition to have your pillow taken away.”
Stripped and chained to the wall, my only comfort is the little white pillow tucked under my bum.
Why am I in such a precarious and uncomfortable position?
The cell across from me mirrors my own, with a toilet and sink, but mine holds an empty bed frame whereas the other has a thin mattress.
I bite back the retort begging to shoot from my throat and shrink against the cold wall with a petulant pout on my face.
He hates me because I’m not an easily cowed Omega.
He’d rather I crawl and whimper and beg.
He doesn’t like my flamboyance or my attitude.
He’s threatened by me, and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
If he only knew the true me. He’d be terrified. He’d do anything in his power to end my life.
He’d fail.
Chapter Two
Omega
My training began before I took my first steps.
An Omega born into a poor family, my parents sold me before starvation could claim us.
They got a hefty sum, since my parents were both dynamics and I was in perfect health.
It didn’t matter. They died before I turned six, which I discovered at age eight, when I gained enough proficiency to search the Algar-din database.
A program unknown to all but a rare few scooped me up and began teaching me things most individuals would scoff at and say were impossible.
I learned to see people without laying eyes on them. The handler charged with my infant care, an Omega who led my exploration into the world of the unseen, ushered me through the spider web of souls surrounding us.
As I grew, she expanded my teachings to include physical elements. Each new skill built upon the last, until at the age of four I outgrew her expertise.
With the change of handlers, I found a wealth of new challenges. I learned how to gather and catalogue the information I observed while practicing more nuanced physical skills.
By the age of six I completed my first real-world mission—I returned to the compound with information spoken in private, and a wallet. The first was expected, the second was a bonus.
When my skills were appraised, I entered into the most classified program ever.
I began my training to become an Omega Spy.
My younger self had so much more to learn.
∆∆∆
As my jailer stalks away from my cage, I tamp down the urge to snicker.
His expression when I arrived and immediately began pitching a fit is one I’ll enjoy for the rest of my life. The shocked look paired with his frozen stance was so awkward, especially with his black eyes and fierce presence, and I almost failed to pretend I didn’t notice his reaction.
After all, I had to convince everyone I was a furious shunned lover, cast aside because her sugar daddy Alpha had gotten his mate pregnant.
I relax against the wall as though relieved he’s gone and flick my eyes over to the beauty in the cell across from me.
She sits huddled on her mattress with a sheet wrapped around her naked body, staring at me with wide eyes.
I shrug my shoulder, emitting annoyance and uncertainty.
She opens her mouth only to close it instead of asking the question hovering on her tongue.
I huff before turning away from her, even as my heart breaks for her naiveté. She knows so little of the world. These Alphas don’t deserve her innocence.
Sending invisible tendrils her way, I see her broken ties. When her parents died in an accident, she lost much of her glow.
She made it into this portion of the market because of her gorgeous body and untried omega pussy, but if the dolts would look beyond her appearances, they’d see her docile behavior hides a heart desperate for love.
I like being relegated to this section of pens.
I’ve been in the lower echelons of cages, including the ones slotted for termination, and I much prefer the unhappy worry of these pretties over the cloying desperation found below.
My first time as a slave found me in the main pens, wholly uninteresting and seemingly useless for anything except housework. With bedraggled brunette hair and haggard brown eyes, my stick-thin body had been hardy enough for manual labor, but not appealing enough for mating.
It fit my mission, and my target bought me and a handful of other unassuming omegas to tend to his
home.
Three weeks later, I was his wife’s handmaiden. Another week after that, the captain of their guard died, and I returned to the compound with sensitive information.
Knowing the auctioneers won’t call for the higher echelon of Omegas for another day or two, I check the vicinity for more jailers before turning my attention inward.
Ensuring my brain continues to scan the physical surroundings for threats, I focus on the web of souls around me.
Most hold significant pain, either from loss or abuse, but nothing could distract me from the thread made tremulous from purposeful neglect.
No matter how thin the connection between us may seem, it never snaps.
We’re bound together, this other heart and I. Through the most trying times of my life, she gave me strength, even when she had little left for herself.
I did the same for her, no matter the cost.
When the nights got too dark, she held my hand.
I’ll never forget the beauty of each moment we spent supporting each other. Her dark hand in my pale grasp will always be a beacon in the most dangerous of times.
The link between us throbs, but does not spring to life as it usually does.
Dread settles in my guts.
When she departed for a long-term mission several seasons ago, my instincts yelled for her to not go, but an Omega Spy does not refuse a task.
My memory offers up her visage the day she left.
She’d looked like herself. It had been a shock.
We’d been in the field for so many years we’d gotten used to looking at a stranger each time we met. We recognized each other’s hearts, since those remained unchanged, even as scars threatened to harden them.
She’d had to stare at a foreign face as she said goodbye to me.
I suppose she remembers my natural face and colorings, but I do not. Maybe it’s trauma or denial, but since the first time I underwent a Masking procedure, I cannot bring to mind my original self.
Each new persona bleeds into the next until I feel as though I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes. As if I’ve worn a million disguises, unable to remember my true features.
This disguise, though?
It feels like the real me.
I wouldn’t choose it if given the choice, but a sense of rightness settled over my shoulders the moment I looked in the mirror after the procedure.
My handler didn’t order the changes to please me, though.
They altered every inch of me to cater to my next target’s liking.
Now all I have to do is waltz onto the stage like a haughty Omega in need of a good strapping.
Because that’s what he likes, too.
A feisty female he can enjoy taming.
Chapter Three
Alpha
I hold back my annoyance by keeping my stance firm and my hands clasped behind my back.
My fellow commander does not look impressed.
I grit my teeth before weighing my options.
“You are past due for some stress relief. You will come with us,” he states with a subtle challenge hidden in his words.
He’s right. I am failing in my required relief hours. In fact, I haven’t taken any official time off this Space-Flyer in over two years.
For a reason.
We’re at war.
I command the largest legion within this sector, and should my defenses fail, the allegiance will lose many men.
Yet this Alpha has the power to notify my higher ups of my lack of relief time.
Swallowing down the growl trying to undermine my control, I look my comrade straight in the eyes, letting him know I do not appreciate his interference.
“Very well. I will attend the opening auction.”
“No. Four days. You will stay for the height of the festival.”
Piercing him with my coldest expression, I nod an unhappy ascension and turn away.
He calls down the hall, waiting until I’m too far away to respond.
“Unless you find a slave to purchase. Then you can leave early.”
My low growl carries back to him despite my attempts to hide it with my footsteps.
His deep chuckle grates along my nerves, but I ignore it and make my way to my den.
Slapping the control panel so it closes behind me, I snarl at the audacity of the man.
We may be the same rank, but I have more merits than he. I’m more favored than he.
Who is he to tell me how to conduct myself?
Ever since he mated an Omega, he’s lost his mind. He’s lost his focus on what’s most important.
The Allegiance must remain strong, otherwise our lives are forfeit. We hold too much power and knowledge to let down our guards.
If a crappy little planet like Algar-din were to get their hands on some of our research and blueprints, the universe would turn to chaos. The most epic of wars would break out. Entire races would be slaughtered for their resources and others would overrun the galaxy with their greed.
We are the balancing force. Without the Allegiance, the galaxy would fall to ruin.
Nothing matters more than honor. I’ve made my vows and no female will distract me from them.
Chapter Four
Omega
A bead of sweat trickles down my back, despite my best efforts to hide the strain I’m forcing myself to endure.
She’s in trouble.
Very, very bad trouble.
There’s nothing I can do about it, besides send her every bit of comfort and strength I have.
A boot scuffs against the floor down the hall and I curse the timing.
With a sorrowful and yet demanding caress of her shielded soul, I retreat and tuck our bond away until it appears invisible.
“Wake up, shlikta,” hisses the jailer who hates me most.
I blink open tired eyes, not needing to feign the exhaustion pulling at me.
The door to my cage unlocks and I prepare for battle.
My time to shine has come.
He wastes no time yanking the pillow out from under me, and I squeal as my tush lands on the freezing floor.
His three long, knobby fingers extend their talons toward me and press the sharp points against my neck.
“You’ll look halfway decent with a collar around your neck.”
I scrunch my nose in a petulant expression but flick my eyes around like a terrified animal looking for escape.
He hisses out an ugly laugh before pulling away and unlatching my cuffs from the wall. When he stands to his full height, I struggle to my feet.
He doesn’t wait for me to gain my balance before he turns and walks away, leaving me to stumble after him.
It’s easy to tremble in fright as he leads me down the corridors filled with objectified creatures.
The hallways of the auction house are the most dangerous place in the entire city during the festival. Even a cage with twenty Alphas would be easier, because at least then I have a final headcount and a corner to stick my back in.
This? With chaos in all directions and innumerable threats?
I find it rather unpleasant.
Not frightening, per se, but stressful.
With a rather rude jerk on my chain, my jailer yanks me into a room full of clothing racks and bright lights.
I squint and hurry after my captor before he makes me lose my footing.
He leads me to one of many little stages, each one crude and surrounded by mirrors.
After a nasty shove between my shoulder blades, he snaps my chain to a hook in the ceiling and pulls a lever until my arms raise over my head and I’m forced onto the tiny platform.
Within seconds, a severe looking Omega with the sleekness of a cat and glowing spots on her furred flesh whisks her way into my cubicle.
She sniffs, scowls at my reptilian guard, and moves her fingers over a discreet control panel on the mirror closest to her. A deluge of body-safe cleanser whooshes past me before water soaks every inch of my exposed body. As the l
ast of the rain stops, a blast of air pushes the remaining water into the drain under my platform and instantly dries me.
She flicks an almost sheer length of fabric out and circles it around my hips before threading the stays through the waistband and tying it to itself.
My reflection shows a curvy hourglass figure, made more alluring by the hints of nudity offered by the skirt.
When I spot the next garment, I let out an annoyed rumble.
The Alpha standing a few feet away snarls and steps closer, as though that will intimidate me enough to make me stop.
I play the part, shifting as far away from him as possible, but glaring at him instead of turning my face away in fear.
“I hate corsets,” I say, my voice snappish despite the scent of fear I push through my pores.
“All the more reason for you to wear one.”
I would greatly enjoy kicking this asshole’s face in, were it appropriate for my current persona, but it isn’t, so I gasp in affront before closing my expression into an obvious pout.
“Why anyone would bid for you is a mystery.”
He turns to the leopard lady and growls out, “Pull the stays tighter than they should be. I want to hear her gasping for breath with every step.”
My dresser raises her eyebrow and responds in a haughty tone.
“That is not up to your judgement, K’thorix. Now move away, before I page for my Paupiere and tell him you have overstepped your bounds.”
He bares his fangs but steps out of the space, glancing down the row of stages as though to ensure her overseer is not on his way.
I hold in a laugh, his fear of the huge, furry Alpha beast who supervises the stylists comical in its intensity. I’ve seen Paupiere before, and I completely agree with my captor’s sentiment, but to see a Reptan cower in fear is hilarious.
She settles the beautiful corset around me, slipping her long fingers inside to fit my breasts where she wants them. Her gentle touch shows a bit of understanding, but after situating my assets, she steps behind me and grabs the laces.
