Unbalanced Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 3)

by V T Bonds

  I shift in preparation, positioning my arm to brace my torso and hanging my legs over the edge of the bed.

  Every joint in my body creaks as I struggle to raise my shoulders. After three unsuccessful attempts and innumerable awkward shifts, my weight settles on my butt. As my heart pounds in effort and my head spins at the change, I gulp in big breaths and let pride at my accomplishment wash through me.

  It seems like such a silly thing, but I feel as though I’ve climbed a mountain.

  Praise flows into my soul from my connection with the Omega standing in the corner of the room. Yet as she encourages me, a note of warning slides between my ribs.

  Monsters lurk, and her caution urges me to build walls to defend myself.

  I follow her lead, like a duckling waddling after their mother, taking memories and cocooning them away in a nest of fluffy blankets. Britani’s face must be safely guarded away, where no amount of pain can make her vulnerable. My mother must join her, another quilt needed to cover them both.

  Georgia interrupts my internal musings.

  “Would you like socks? The floor is quite cold.”

  I glance down at my toes, the sight of them stealing my attention until I can’t look away.

  The bright pink skin looks as though it has been pieced together, raised crimson lines crisscrossing every inch of flesh, the severity lessening until it fades into smooth skin around my upper calves.

  I swallow, shock holding me hostage.

  My feet look like something from my nightmares, gory and grotesque.

  I swallow again, waiting for my heart to beat.

  Another, this time forcing air into my esophagus and gulping it down, attempting to make my heart loosen.

  Despite her mellow response to the sight, I feel my new companion’s sadness.

  They allow me time to get over the distress of seeing my skin so disfigured. After three painful thumps, my heart resumes pumping blood throughout my veins.

  “They will heal. For now, they will be sensitive, but soon they’ll be back to normal. Let me put these socks on you, then you won’t have to worry about them today.” Georgia coos, her voice abrading my overwrought nerves.

  She doesn’t give me a chance to deny her, sitting at my feet and propping my heel in her lap.

  Before I can yank my foot away, her warning pierces into my brain. The snap of urgent caution gains my full attention, and yet again I hurry after her, fortifying the nest containing my mother and Britani.

  Meeting her eyes across the room, the sense of kinship grows. I delve into her soul, just the tiniest bit, only to immediately recoil.

  The darkness in her is too much to witness, even second hand. She holds herself rigid not out of propriety, but necessity.

  The link to my Alpha twangs in my chest, and intense hope makes my entire body jerk. Ignoring Georgia’s glance, I fight back tears.

  The orange-eyed Omega’s attention zeroes in on my link to my Alpha, her physical gaze boring into the depths of my soul. With control beyond understanding, she peels back a tiny portion of her heart and reveals to me her connection to a male.

  The similarities hurt. We are both blocked, tossed away by Alphas too fierce to bother with wretches like us.

  A tear slips down my cheek.

  No extra moisture fills her eyes. Her expression never changes, and with a nudge, I realize she isn’t showing me to commiserate.

  She’s showing me how to survive in this terrible place.

  She drops mounds and mounds of protective blankets over her lifemating link.

  I do the same, struggling to emulate her composure.

  Georgia sets my feet back on the floor and raises to her full height, then steps to my right side, leaving my view of the mirror unimpeded. She motions for me to stand.

  The stress of the last few moments take its toll, and suddenly the floor looks miles away.

  I look to the brunette Omega across the room, begging with my eyes for her to help me. With a sad shake of her head and gentle caress of my heart, she conveys her inability to offer a hand.

  For the first time, I notice her full attire. Her gown covers her neckline down to her knees, then thick stockings ensure none of her legs are exposed. Gloves extend from her hands up beyond her sleeves, encasing everything except her neck, face, and hair in clothing.

  Too weary to ask questions, I turn my sight to Georgia. She still smells funny, but everything hurts and I need help. Without a word, I aim pleading eyes at her and extend my hand.

  She accepts with a beaming smile, holding my wrist and sticking her other in my armpit. Lifting me from the bed, her thumb digs into my shoulder.

  I always knew I was small, even for an Omega. My mother would look at me with wonder and worry, but tests revealed no deficiencies, so I was allowed to grow as I could.

  Having Georgia tower over me causes doubt to grow in me. Her fingers touch each other over my shoulder, even though her palm presses against my ribs and underarm.

  With too-big socks covering my feet, I wobble to a standing position. Pain eats away at my control, but the fuzziness grows, buffering me from the worst of it.

  Georgia shifts as though she plans to put my arm over her shoulder so she can guide me to the table, but she stops, realizing I’m much too short. Instead, she shuffles behind me and holds me steady by wrapping her hands around my upper torso.

  The tips of her fingers settle over my nipples, and I shriek, an inhuman noise bursting from my chest.

  No one should touch me there. Not even an accidental brush is okay.

  Every bit of my control recedes, the fright from before overcoming me. I claw at her hands until she lets go.

  As I fall to the ground the door opens. I almost miss the quiet swish, but I’ve tuned in to the sound, recognizing it over the thud of my landing.

  My screeching bounces off the walls, awakening the misery they hold. Evil monsters invade my room, grabbing me, forcing me to the bed, and jabbing a needle in my arm. Cold, hard hands hold me down as my screams die to mumbles, until my eyelids are too heavy to keep open.

  Tranquility may hold my body, but my mind gets sucked down into an inky, ugly abyss, where everything is as empty as my lifemating link.

  I am broken. Unwanted. Discarded.

  Alone.

  Chapter Five

  Dirk

  I jolt awake, my internal clock unable to tell me how much time has passed since I laid my head down. My throat scratches as I swallow, so I climb out of the bed and uncap a water. Guzzling it down, I toss the bottle in the proper chute, use the relief port, and wash my hands. Leaning my palms on the sink, I stare at my reflection.

  I aim to never suffer through my Rut alone again. Shifting through my emotions with rapid speed, I tuck the misery, loathing, and sorrow into a box and lock it away.

  My reflection mocks me. With my beard hairs aiming in all the wrong directions and puffiness under my eyes, I look like hell. Splashing water on my face and doing a quick style of my beard, I no longer look so disheveled, but the haggardness remains.

  Too impatient to get back in touch with my Omega to wait any longer, I focus on our link and pry open my barrier, ignoring my appearance.

  The mess I find makes my heart stutter. Her despair swims through thick black tar, the gooey substance almost camouflaging the heavily drugged sensation tugging her downward. Fear and loneliness threaten to swamp her, and I curse my reasons for shutting down our connection.

  She needed me, but I wasn’t there.

  The link between us feels brittle in my hands, and I curb the urge to flood her with my efforts.

  Instead, I begin the process of building her up bit by bit. Stealing away a portion of tar with each of my movements, I work my way closer to my lifemate.

  As I get nearer, my heart quails in distress. Scooping up her figurative form, I envision my large frame surrounding her, protecting her from the world. I become her lifeboat, keeping her afloat amidst the tar. Though she eases, worry nag
s us both.

  Her body may be healing, but her mental state seems worse than before.

  I spend hours hunched over the sink, reassuring myself she’s still alive and apologizing for going away.

  An urgent knock on the door pulls me out of my trance.

  “You still alive?” Vander’s voice pierces the door.

  “Yeah,” I croak back.

  “Good. Get your ass in the cockpit. Five minutes.”

  I don’t move until the sound of his boots hitting the floor drifts away.

  Less than four minutes later, I walk into the cockpit. It feels weird to have clothes on—my cock still aches and my skin feels raw.

  Nova sits in a chair along the left wall, Seeck hovering over her, his hand resting on her shoulder. Every now and then she lifts her arm and strokes her fingers over his knuckles.

  Next to Nova is Kwame’s lifemate. I still don’t know her name, but she talks to Nova as though they’ve known each other for decades, and I watch in awe as they communicate. When she scrunches her eyebrows at something, Nova reaches out and grasps her hand. After a quick squeeze, they both let go, acute awareness of their mate’s possessiveness making them err on the side of caution.

  Kwame’s digits weave between the fingers of his lifemate's other hand, the contrast in their coloring striking. A rope lies between their connected palms. One end hangs near their knees, the other leads up to her head, the strand woven into her braid.

  She looks content, even with wildness lurking in her vibrant green eyes.

  Before I can take another step, Jumoke shoulders my side as he enters the room.

  “Good to see you’re still breathing, Dirk,” he says as he stalks over to stand beside Vander at the control panel. He twists his neck and sends me a challenging look over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I’m still alive.”

  My voice sounds like it hasn’t been used in a decade.

  I turn to Kwame, preparing to meet his mate, when Jumoke says something ludicrous.

  “You were locked in your den for twenty days.”

  I freeze, his words shocking the breath out of my lungs.

  Twenty days? My Rut typically lasts five to seven days. Recovery never takes more than three. How the hell have I been shut in my room for twenty days?

  My palms turn clammy as my eye twitches. I meet Jumoke’s gaze, searching for signs he’s joking.

  He isn’t.

  I swivel my head to Vander, needing verification. When he nods, I swallow down a sudden surge of bile.

  What the hell?

  Disbelief makes me weak in the knees, but I’ll be damned if I show it. These people count on me, and I’ve already let them down.

  Jumoke’s eyebrow rises as he opens his mouth, but Vander intercedes.

  “You were in full Rut for fourteen days. Slept for three. I almost broke down your door, but you snored, so I left you alone. Heard you moving around three days ago, but you didn’t come out. We have things that can’t wait any longer, so I knocked.”

  I rub the back of my neck and send heaps of apology to my lifemate, hiding away my urge to roar in frustration.

  No wonder my cock hurts so much.

  Ignoring Jumoke’s attempt to rile me, I send praise to my Omega, letting her feel my awe at her strength.

  She survived without me for too long. I hope to never repeat the situation.

  To my surprise, a clang of nastiness pings into my heart, her anger flicking into me. The wave of emotion calms me in ways I can’t express. She’s strong enough to chastise me. Brave enough to reprimand me.

  Accepting her outburst, I imagine wrapping calm fingers around our connection, strengthening our bond.

  “Jaoli attempted to infiltrate Command’s system.” Vander gives the news with frustration in his voice, but he leans his ass against the edge of the console as though he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “At least, that’s what military communications say.”

  My posture stiffens as I take in the news. Every person in the room stills, and from the corner of my eye I see the two Omegas clutching each other’s hands.

  Vander motions to Jumoke, then crosses his arms in front of his chest.

  “Seeing as how someone decided to sleep instead of join our last meeting, let me give a quick timeline,” Jumoke says, being as obnoxious as possible. My eyebrows scrunch together, but I refuse to respond to his goading.

  “Day before yesterday, I found proof of tampering in Command’s security system. When I delved in, it’s origins made zero sense, until the IP address changed before my very eyes. Twice. Whoever started this has mad skills.”

  When his eyes dart to Vander, a sliver of unease passes between them. Jumoke takes a few steps away and plops down in a chair.

  Surprise has my eyebrows creeping up my forehead, but I catch myself and smooth my expression.

  Too much information to gather. Speculation won’t help, but my intuition tells me they’ve had several talks on the issue already. They may even have a culprit in mind.

  “They pegged Jaoli as responsible. A few top secret files were leaked to the public, none of which contains our direct information, but we were involved in most of the missions targeted.”

  Jumoke leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees.

  “More things keep going screwy, and neither city knows how to respond. Both are having different difficulties. They’ve had random blackouts, info leaks, scrambled messages, and more. Yet again, the hacker is playing around with millions of lives via electronics. I haven’t been able to pinpoint her—whoever it is.”

  Again, his eyes slide to Vander, but he keeps talking as though he didn’t just reveal too much.

  The only her he could be referring to in such a manner would be the dark-skinned Omega we met during our rescue mission. Vander’s lifemate.

  The successful and yet failed mission.

  “I also intercepted communication within the scientific community. There’s more to them than meets the eye. They have more than fifteen facilities.”

  Despite the sinking feeling in my chest, I continue to send support to my Omega and force my mind to analyze his words.

  “I’ve deciphered seven locations. The others are works in progress.”

  He drops his head down for a moment, vigorously running his hands through his hair before popping to his feet.

  “They are doing a mass relocation tomorrow. In essence, they are scrambling their entire inventory. As far as I know, no assets have been moved since our visit. We have to strike before they begin, otherwise I have no idea how long it’ll take to find them all.”

  Oxygen leaves the room, my vision fading at the edges, and my ears ring. Using brute strength, I strangle my panic and toss it away.

  There’s no time for it. Every second counts.

  “How much do they know about us?” I ask.

  “I can’t find anything in their databases to suggest they know who we are, but…” Jumoke looks around the room as if he can’t decide how to word what comes next.

  “They send transmissions to a location I can’t find. Sometimes it seems as if they send info into outer space.”

  The silence following his words fills the room with potent shock.

  Seeck’s frustration bleeds into his words.

  “Could they be sending us a message by leaking those documents?”

  Jumoke side-eyes Vander again but doesn’t say anything.

  After a moment he shakes his head and says, “I doubt it. The leaks would have been more aggressive if they’d wanted us to know they were on to us.”

  “What consequences could their odd transmissions have on our next movement?” Vander asks.

  As we pick apart each tidbit of info, a plan begins to form. Each person in the room pays attention, even Kwame’s new mate, and when Vander begins to assign responsibilities, she huddles close to Kwame.

  I ache for them, but hide away my misgivings.

  My Omega needs res
cuing. Now.

  Figuring out how to make the new team dynamics mesh isn’t easy, but Vander plays on everyone’s strengths, and within the hour we’re on the move.

  I send comfort to my lifemate, urging her to stay strong for just a little longer.

  I’m coming for her.

  Chapter Six

  Shya

  This room is too cold. Pulling the sheet tighter around me, I sit on the bed and huddle into the corner, pressing my back against one wall and my side against another. I can see the intersecting lines on my toes through the thin sheet, even though they’ve faded. When I first saw them, I thought my skin would always look like shattered glass, but now the skin looks almost smooth. I run my fingers over the raised scars, melancholy filling my heart.

  My Alpha is back, so I should be happy.

  Instead, I’m scared and lonely. He left me, and I’m scared he’ll go away again.

  I’m also frightened I won’t be able to protect him from the monsters lurking on the other side of the glass.

  She hasn’t tried to touch me since my outburst, but Georgia has come back many times. Every interaction has left me more unsettled. I feel like the cheerier she gets, the worse my future becomes.

  I haven’t seen the orange-eyed Omega again. Did she give up on me?

  No, most likely the people on the other side of the mirror won’t let her come in. I think I felt her earlier, but it was faint, as though she was far away with too many walls between us.

  The cold makes me shiver, and my muscles cramp from being curled in a ball. I don’t know how long I’ve been hiding, but it makes the time in-between “sessions” easier.

  With nothing to entertain me, I trace the wounds on my feet and practice building a protective barrier in my head, but I don’t think its very good.

  It feels as effective as this threadbare sheet.

  The swish of the door makes me hug my knees tighter and suck in a scared breath.

  Georgia’s weird scent invades my shelter before she speaks, and I hate her for it. My mind shrinks as dread grows.

  “Come out, Shya. Time for a meal.”