by Addison Cain
“I have no perspective to make such a judgment. Ancil is the only other male in Central I have seen outside of the state dinner in which Annette was poisoned with Beta rations. I would need more than two variables to make a reasonable assessment.” Honey eyes looked up from her work trying to gather slippery bits of carbohydrates covered in sauce to abstractly consider the Alpha watching her. “Then there is the outlying concern. If you lived in Beta sector, you would have been put to death the day you raped me in the alley.”
“Brenya.” It was not her first warning of the day.
The noodles were waiting on her spoon, right there. Eating when she was so hungry seemed more relevant than conversation. After all, the Alpha had a history of forgetting she was a living thing that required water, air, and sustenance. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Mon chou….” Lifting his glass, ice tinkling against the crystal, Jacques sipped, staring at her over the rim.
If he was going to leave things unspoken, she was going to eat. The tiny nest of pasta went into her mouth, chewed in fascination of the strange texture. After a swallow, she immediately began to prepare another bite.
“You seem unusually hungry.”
It might have been the first relevant comment the Alpha had made that evening. Relevant enough that she looked up from her dwindling plate and shifted a modicum of her attention from thoughts of gold forks to the symmetry of his face.
When they were alone, Jacques wore his hair loose, blond waves cascading over broad shoulders. Brenya was very familiar with the procedure of unweaving the braid and setting it loose, that being one of the duties he outlined would be hers as his mate. He’d purr and groan as she worked through those locks, her fingers systematically working through the procedure to the exact count of sixty seconds. When it was done, she would fellate him before he might decide to seek other indulgences. Just as Annette had taught her.
Sprawled in his chair, she would begin counting, following his requests, ignoring how often he made her gag or how much her jaw might ache. And where her fingers had been in his hair, his were now tangled in hers, the Alpha moving her to whatever rhythm he favored.
It was a race to excite him enough he might come down her throat and save her from another mounting. His changing moods made it difficult to keep up with the uncontrolled thing he became when aroused. Desperation led her to suck harder, move faster, drool everywhere so he might finish and leave her alone.
At least for an hour while he smirked in his chair and watched her stare out the window. That was if he didn’t drag her to his lap for a long kiss and hold her there until he was done doing whatever it was he thought to accomplish by keeping her tucked under his chin.
Two of the last four days, she had either overperformed in this act or underperformed, both times ending up stuffed full of cock and knotted by a rutting male who bruised where he gripped. Her back to his damp chest, he would place his hot palm where his seed left her belly distended and purr. The longer the knot, the more his fingers might slip down to toy with the sensitive flesh between her legs, compelling another orgasm he timed with his next gush.
The slosh of what he left inside her body, what was plugged by his bulbous, pulsating knot. Brenya both knew relief when his member shrank enough to set the torrent free, and disgust from the way his fluids would flood over her thighs.
It was so much.
A pool of Alpha sperm. And for some reason, it seemed as if each time she braced for his pleasure, he produced more.
He’d want her to lay in that cooling sticky mess, touching and rumbling, saying things she ignored. He’d hold her there despite all her aches and the sting between her legs, despite the scratches and the weeping bites that seemed to bleed every time he put his hands on her with a sexual intent.
One day. All she wanted was one day without some part of his body inside some part of hers.
Heaven help her if she winced at any of his handling, because that meant a session with the pliarator.
As if any machine might stretch her enough that his member would ever fit without pain.
“You will struggle to deliver children, petite as you are,” Jacques had murmured, manipulating the pliarator as she writhed. “It is a pity we will have to scar your beautiful skin to get them out.”
The idea of baring a child in the Centrist fashion—one that would be exposed to this man—led to a reaction that ignored logic and ended in disaster. Instead of struggling against the pliarator, she lifted a leg and kicked him right in the chest. The machine slipped from her channel, the man was displaced long enough for her to escape that gross puddle and run out of the bed.
Right into the bathroom.
Where she locked the door as if that might actually keep him out.
He ripped it off the hinges, wood splintering as if it took little effort.
Naked, slimy, cornered, thin arms around her middle, and trying to hide behind her hair, Brenya shrank.
“You won’t even be awake for the procedure, Brenya. There is no reason to react in such a way. Your penchant for violence and threats is….” He took her arm, dragging her from the room. It was hard to keep up with his stride, her legs still shaking from the pliarator effect on her nerves.
He never finished his statement, spinning her about until the mattress hit her belly and her legs dangled to the floor.
She heard the clicks and knew what it meant. He was resetting the machine, altering the program, before that horrible thing might find a new home.
Crying through it all, she bore the burning anal stretch, hiccupping when the Alpha allowed the machine to simulate a knot that must have stretched her until her burning ring was bloodless and white.
The hands stroking her back and the unwelcome platitudes did nothing to ease even a moment of it. Brenya couldn’t even reach out to that dangerous void of the other person who was somehow there and somehow not.
When the cycle was finished and her throat was raw from sobbing, he removed the things, showing her that it bore no trace of blood. Chastising her for her lack of trust and overreaction.
That was to be her punishment when she needed correction, and also a boon. She would soon be able to take him up her ass in the way men sometimes preferred. And soon, it would give her only pleasure. Just as obedience would.
If she would only behave, he would say, she would learn that all he did was for her pleasure.
And she had wiped her nose, slinking off the bed. Staring at the floor, she nodded.
That was why there was a soft pillow atop her chair at their shared dinner.
He tried to chat with her as if another punishment had never happened. Already, he assured her she was utterly forgiven.
After she had calmed and accepted the endless throbbing soreness of being a female Omega, Brenya was able to slip back into the emotionless space of a Beta who had a Rebecca.
The Alpha across from her increased the volume of his purr as if pleased at her perusal, and stated for the second time, “I said, you seem unusually hungry.”
“Yes. I am very hungry.”
The demeanor of the man before her went from preening to assessing. “Yet you have eaten enough for a grown Alpha.”
That was true, and her belly did ache for it. But what did that matter? She hurt everywhere.
“Are you in pain?”
It’s not like he couldn’t see the bruises, the bite marks. It's not like he had not been the person to place the pillow she was sitting upon because her labia and anus were stinging and swollen. So she didn’t answer. The question had to be a rhetorical one.
Heavy male fingers trilled over the tabletop, Jacques’ voice terse. “Specifically in regards to your digestion. Are you in pain?”
Fork stabbed noodles and carried them to the waiting spoon so she might spin another bite.
Bringing his fist under his chin, the Alpha narrowed his eyes and leaned his weight forward. “You are ordered to tell me when you are uncomfortable.”
That was simple enough. “I am uncomfortable.”
Sighing, he threw his weight back into his chair, hand to the air as if beseeching the Gods for help. “Brenya, please try.”
More pasta was chewed, swallowed, to land in a distended belly that ached with emptiness. “I don’t understand what answer you want me to give you. You know I am in pain.”
“If you wish to discuss what happened earlier, then there is no answer required. The harder I fuck you, the closer you grow to accepting your place as my mate. When I am gentle, you are restless, lying under me with your eyes closed and your body limp. When I am rough, you engage.”
“You want me to fight back because I no longer say no when you mount me?” There were so many flaws in that statement, so much ugliness to it, that her stomach roiled and all the noodles were about to come up.
“You don’t touch me, mon chou.”
That was untrue. “I stimulate your erection with my hands in the exact way you taught me to. I use my mouth and tongue to fulfill the commands given as you move my head. I swallow.”
“What if I were to organize an event where you could watch an Alpha and Omega mate properly? Is that what you need to see to understand that you are more to me than the pretty pussy I knot? Your place is in the moment, seeking pleasure from your mate instead of tolerating.”
“At lunch, your coat had exactly twenty-four buttons. Now, you wear a coat with seven. Why are you wearing a different coat?” Why did Centrist do anything the way they did?
The male sighed. “Because it is dinner, Brenya. And that’s how things are done.”
And of course, that made no sense to her. “And if I touch you when you mount me, you’ll make it hurt less? Because that is how things are done?”
The man looked as if her words cut him, as if she were the one causing him pain. “You are tormenting me with your indifference.”
12
Considering the subject matter, a straightforward approach would serve better than manipulation. After all, the Commodore had tried the simplicity of allowing things to run their course, offering dignity to a man who deserved none. It would have been a simple thing for Jules Havel to eat his meals, the Beta mellowing after digesting the proper dosage for a male of his size and strength. The secondary buffer—beyond the joint pair-bond—necessary.
The entire fate of Bernard Dome was at stake—not to mention the safety of Jacques' precious mate.
And though he would prefer the ease of simply killing the man, Jules needed to be alive and well to serve his function. Protecting Brenya, and therefore all of his people, from Chancellor Shepherd’s threat of unleashing the virus.
But these exchanges were growing tiresome.
Or, lack of exchange, for a better word.
With Brenya back in their nest, knowing she slept fitfully without him, Jacques had rushed dressing to confront a burden, grabbing a midday coat instead of an evening jacket. The enlightening dinner he had just shared with his mate having changed everything regarding forward momentum in retaining her happiness.
It had made Jacques leave the peace of his bed to deal with a fiend where they would not be overheard by a sweetly chiming Omega soul.
Entering the viewing area outside the cell of his new rabid dog, Jacques adjusted his cuff. The male within undeserving of his full attention, considering his behavior. “Ambassador Havel, did you know there are no prisons in Bernard Dome? Until your arrival, they were unnecessary.”
The man behind the clear amorphous metal did not so much as turn his head to acknowledge that the Commodore had paid him yet another personal visit.
Jules Havel, mercenary and madman, simply sat on the floor and stared at the bleak, gray wall before him. His behavior predictable, boring even.
“I ordered this installation converted the night I agreed to Chancellor Shepherd’s trade. Previously, this storage room was stocked with racks of aging red wines. As you must have noticed, Ambassador, the walls are solid—a meter of cement to maintain the optimum temperature with little intervention of electricity. Unfortunately, there is no plumbing, hence the bucket. A short-term solution should a complicated situation arise.”
And a complication had arisen, Jacques grateful for his foresight. Which was why he was Commodore and all who contested his rule were dead.
“Ambassador Havel, this was never intended to be your long-term home.” Yet it had been the perfect kennel for a foreign threat. “Merely a place of transition and transformation. Yet it seems you wish to stay.”
The cuff of Jacques’ fresh shirt was properly adjusted, the Alpha moved to correct the other sleeve. “You see, in Bernard Dome, on the rare occurrence of criminal behavior, the instigator is instantly euthanized—a humane process that has worked for centuries and led to a peaceful population. My city, it is a treasure of culture and refinement in this empty world. The perfect civilization: ordered, organized, maintained, and cultivated. Paradise at the price of a steady decline in the Omega population… until there were none to be found. Being Beta, you cannot imagine what it is like to be an Alpha missing his other half and living in a world where it will never appear.”
Just like every other encounter the males had shared since they both fucked an Estrous-high Brenya Perin into the perfection of a three-way pair-bond, Jules Havel refused to acknowledge his presence.
But that did not matter. The ancient fables were correct, and the Beta was fully bound.
“Brenya was in a room similar to this one for days after an accident almost took her from me forever. Quarantined after exposure when she fell down the side of the Dome and shattered her helmet. That is why the wound on her face healed so poorly. She had no medical care. I love that scar, the perfect reminder of the miracle that brought my Omega to me. It is a symbol of what must be done to weed out females who might potentially find their own miracle in monitored seclusion. Fifteen more Omegas have been discovered with this method in the last seven days. A percentage of the population that will bring so many hope and has freed me from any further association with Greth Dome, Chancellor Shepherd, or unenlightened foreigners.”
Sleeves perfected, Jacques finally ran his attention over the silent Beta and let out a sigh. “You have been given a great gift despite your threats to my people. Freedom from the tyranny of your past, an opportunity to contribute to greatness. A greater gift still in knowing a bond with a pure-hearted Omega. Considering the taboo even in mythology, not one in a billion Betas has ever known such a thing.”
At last, Jules, brown hair falling into blue eyes of unnatural brightness, deigned to turn his head.
Progress. So, Jacques got to the point. “You are making her sick by refusing to eat.”
His prisoner did not so much as blink. He just stared in the eerie way of the dangerous and the evil.
“I have been reasonable with you, Jules Havel. I invited you into my home, extending goodwill. Furthermore, I have kept to Chancellor Shepherd's request that Bernard Dome not interfere with Thólos.” As if Jacques would waste his people’s resources on a failed civilization that had birthed the very men who had turned and eaten it.
No intonation, no apparent interest in negotiation, Jules replied, “I won’t swallow anything that I have not seen Brenya Perin taste first.”
With a scoff, Jacques smirked. “I will not expose my mate to you.”
Those piercing eyes burned, saying in their unwavering stare that Jacques had fully exposed the female to him. That there was no part of her that he had not seen, no sexual act that had not been performed before him. That he had fucked her too. “Continue to attempt to feed me Beta rations, and she won’t be your mate for long.”
Enough of this.
“I saw the way you looked at her—at the state dinner, on your ship.” Jacques’ nostrils flared, his ire rising at the audacity of the cretin who had nothing to barter with. “How you salivated watching me claim the female who is mine. You even have my sympathy. One look and I wanted the strange girl too. Y
et, I allowed you to taste her once... so that she could be safe from you forever. You will not enjoy her again. That will be your burden in exchange for your survival.”
As if he might see her through the ceiling, Jules turned his gaze upward. “The Omega told me why she stole my ship. Candid to a fault in her desperation to be free of you. I felt her grief to wake bonded to a male who disgusts her. Ever since, she has been calling to me, unknowing what she does. The female gets a little closer every day. A little more trusting. Imagine what I might do to her once it’s too late for her to retreat.”
The pure evil of Jules’ grin, the way those piercing eyes burned, Jacques wanted nothing more than to kill the dog and be done with it. Hating that he couldn’t… just yet. “I will have you sedated and fitted with a feeding tube.”
Piercing blue eyes returned to the Commodore. “You can try.”
The Beta had not eaten in five days, was no doubt weak from starvation, and very much in need of a serious beating. One Jacques could not administer without causing further distress to his mate now that he understood that her bond to the Beta was just as weighty as her bond to him. A minor annoyance that would be handled soon enough. “Consider it done.”
Unfolding in a graceful, sinuous motion, the Beta stalked to the glass between them. “I can tell by the fact that you stand this close to the glass that you truly have no idea of who I am or what I am capable of. The Omega is uncomfortable, because your botched attempts to poison me have failed, yet she eats. She sleeps. You are whining over an inconvenience to a woman who will hate you either way. And you are coming to terms with the fact that this situation did not unfold as you expected. The greatest mistake you have ever made was tempting me with a taste of her. And I will see that you pay for it.”
Something about the trapped Beta’s threat unsettled Jacques deeply—the honesty that rang through the tiny sliver of the man he could feel. The dead-eyed stare. “I could make your life here one of luxury. It is in Brenya’s best interest that I do so. As an act of good faith, I have let you watch me fuck her. What if I were also to have her used clothing sent to your cell so you can smell sweet slick? I will even send you a skilled Beta female to mount. She can simulate the experience. I am only asking that you eat and end this charade. I cannot let you starve to death any more than I can let you walk free as you are.”
