Broken Captive: A Reverse Harem Omegaverse Dark Romance (Wren's Song Book 3)

by Addison Cain

  Someday she might even have another nest.

  But right now she had something far more important. She had purpose, and she had delicious snippets of rage heavy memory to entertain her through the wait.

  Chuckling, her teeth snapped shut. Between them was the phantom of the bite she’d taken out of Kieran’s perfect ass. He’d howled, he’d snarled, and she had laughed as his blood filled her mouth.

  How had she not seen that in all the mating since?

  Because he always kept his back from her. He’d hidden it.

  Which was a pity since fractured memory claimed he’d tasted divine.

  Cunt clenching, Wren’s cheeks went hot. Unwarranted slick swished enough to wet her pants, horrifying memory stealing in to remind the female there was so much more to that ass biting moment. Such as the huge cock that had knotted her still, Caspian’s cock that she’d ridden like a veritable demon.

  How could she do that?

  Pressing her hands over her ears, she denied the guttural and filthy banging around in her head. Refused to acknowledge that they had come from her.

  Drawing deeper into her jagged crevice, Wren shut her eyes and tried to slam the door on her thoughts.

  But the mind refused to obey.

  The images that played out in abandon were…

  Lurid.

  The smell of male. The taste of cum and sweat and blood.

  The feel of pleasure in a broken body that could not feel pain.

  The longing…

  Worst of all, Wren had to acknowledge that when Caspian had set his teeth to her throat, she had egged him on. And this was after her limbs were bleeding from his snapping teeth. After he had torn into her body and harmed her for his pleasure.

  She had offered the Alpha an invitation. Turned up her throat for his violence.

  At that moment, the steady disassociation that had kept her going through the lonely days in hiding cracked.

  How could she?

  How could she submit herself to the very male who had harmed her boys?

  Warm, salty water wet dirty cheeks. In the distance, two Alpha males felt the shift, their ears pricked.

  ***

  “She’s alive.”

  Chapter 13

  Another muted gush. Cum twitched into whoever was riding his cock, but Caspian felt nothing. A sea of beautiful female bodies crawled over him, clever fingers, clever tongues, tight cunts and pretty breasts. Drowning him in carnal attention.

  Yet the First Alpha couldn’t even tell who was in the room.

  They sucked, he stared off into space. They lapped and stroked, he called for more to smoke.

  Nothing would dull the throbbing ache that had somehow moved from his guts to his chest.

  He couldn't eat.

  Every breath stretching his barrel chest was worse than the last. Sometimes, when the drugs hit him just right, he dreamed his lungs were filling with mud. Always he longed to hear the unwell cough that had woken him in past nights.

  Missed the scent of his mouse but could not bring himself to seek her things.

  He had not been back to his rooms since the mud had sucked her down, preferring the consuming distraction of his favorites in the pen. Naked, coated in female fluids, and coming down from a hideous headache, Caspian lay, daring for the first time in days to close his eyes.

  Which carried him straight to the worst kind of hell. The kind where he felt his mouse’s final desperation like a knife to the guts. Today it was only a dull throb of sad determination, of thirst and hunger. But as he suffered the torment, the bad feelings abated—as if a window had opened and sun streamed in. From the fragment of their link came joy, pride… arousal?

  His dick twitched and someone, Caspian didn’t even care to look, latched on.

  The slippery tongue felt like sandpaper, the rolling wave of hands over his sack like slimy filth.

  Pushing the bobbing head away, eyes still shut tight, Caspian drew in a breath of relief when his cock popped free of unwelcome lips.

  Longing teased at all the internal places where he ached and rotted… embarrassed longing. The very feeling that plagued the mouse when he’d knotted her just right. When he held her close no matter if she was angry. A special feeling she only resonated with for him.

  When she had been left to Kieran’s devices, she never longed for him. Mostly she drew away from herself and survived her time with the most desired Alpha in the Waterworks.

  Her time with Toby had always left her overwhelmed and scared it was too good to be true. Yes, she longed for the Third, but the flavor was unique and pale in comparison for the few brief sips she had with Caspian.

  Feeling that flutter now, knowing it wasn’t the flagging drugs, aware that though his eyes were closed this was not a dream, Caspian jolted from where he sprawled.

  An instant later he jackknifed up. Because that distant female longing had folded into sadness, and he could practically taste the salt of her tears on his tongue.

  FUCK, she’s alive!

  Groaning in response to rough treatment, the smooth-skinned Beta draped over his thigh wiggled in her sleep. Immediately he shoved her arms—and the touch of the other five women he’d slaked his lusts on—away. Not a single chirped complaint when he ordered the used beauties off, not a single coy batting of their lashes or a flirty smile to tempt him back to the bed.

  No, they shuffled off most likely in relief, considering how many hours he’d put them to work.

  Only Rosie stood there, watching him with those big blue eyes.

  Eyes that gave nothing away.

  He didn’t have time for her shit. Not now when his guts churned with the lightest vibration of her. “I told you to get out.”

  Pulling a pair of discarded panties from a raggedy dresser, the blonde slipped them over her hips. “Never thought I’d see you like this.”

  Haggard and unable to knot? Yeah, he read right between her lines. “Any of you speak of it, and I’ll see you all skinned.”

  “Hey.” Rosie held up her hands, the dispassion in her eyes matching the lack of condescending smirk he knew she was just dying to produce. “I remember what happened to Jetta.”

  Jetta, one of the finer pieces of leather to make up Caspian’s prized coat.

  Shrugging into his clothes, Caspian shot her a dark look. “What do you want, Rosie?”

  “I want the big room.”

  “No.”

  She snorted a dark laugh. “Who else would you possibly give it to?”

  Well the options were endless considering the stock he sheltered for his men. “Jean, Mai… that one with the curly hair.”

  “Naomi,” Rosie offered, unflinching and unwavering. “Her name is Naomi.”

  That’s right. Naomi who loved to eat cunt and tolerated cock.

  “Please.” The fact that it was a real please, that it was coming from so jaded a female, got Caspian to cease doing up his trousers and look at her. Once she had his eye, the Omega continued. “I want out of the pen.”

  Fuck no. Not with a mouth like that. His men fought over who got to spend time with Rosie. Some of them fancied themselves in love with her.

  The very idea made him snort. “I don’t have time to listen to you complain about how full your belly is or the temperature of your baths. So you gotta suck some cock, so what?”

  “It can be like it was before, between us…” Twiddling her fingers, playing the role of sweet miss, Rosie pulled out all the stops. Just like she had when she’d caught his eye years ago. “I know what you need, what it takes to please you. I’ll earn my place.”

  Enough! Caspian tightened his belt, dismissing her entirely. “This is about the new girl Kieran brought in.”

  A flash lit up the blue of her eyes. “He bleached her hair white…”

  And keeps her in his rooms. A little doll made up just to look like the mouse.

  Caspian had only seen the new girl once, and had almost been sick on the spot. Roaring, he’d thrown both her, a
nd the male balls deep in her cunt, out of his pen.

  Kieran was lucky his toy had gone unnoticed by Toby, or that girl would have met a bloody end.

  “You fucked me almost every day the mute was here and I never complained, but this? She’s been here a week and he’s letting her nest, trying to breed her! Kieran promised me an out. If I can’t have a baby, then at least give me the damn room!”

  “Rosie.” He wanted to make this crystal fucking clear. “You weren’t brought here to nest. You were brought here to fuck.”

  Tossing her hair, she sneered. “And the big room goes to the favored whore. Who fucks better than me?”

  One raw little girl did. A sweet, quiet beauty of an Omega mouse. “The answer is no.”

  Rosie had always had a mouth, but she had never been openly spiteful. That’s the only thing that kept him from killing her when she hissed, “You fucked me the night you threw her out. You were fucking me when the ground shook, watching her on those monitors. I’m glad I got to see the look on your face when your precious mouse died.”

  At that, he offered the nastiest smile that might stretch apart his haggard face. “She ain’t dead.”

  Real, the first real flicker of honest emotion betrayed the beautiful blonde. She looked repentant, maybe even worried… for the girl. “But all that mud… why hasn’t she come back? If she made it out, why hasn’t she come back?”

  Good fucking question, but not one he was going to entertain with Rosie.

  “You don’t deserve her.”

  That didn’t make any difference to Caspian. The sleek mouse was his. And she was alive.

  The door banged open, a panting Toby rushing in to shout, “Boss—”

  He knew, he felt her too. “Call the men. We’ll scour the Warrens and flush out the mouse. Whoever brings her back undamaged”—mud-brown eyes turned to the eavesdropping Omega who’d dared insult him, Caspian sneering—“can have Rosie for keeps.”

  The woman’s face went white. “No!”

  Before she might beg or cry, before she might cling to his leg and prattle on about her worth as an Omega, Caspian marched out the door.

  Turning his back on the pen, he went to his rooms, his eyes lingering on the pristine nest his Omega had built.

  Had enjoyed.

  Had even, briefly, shared with him.

  And then he went to scrub days’ of sour sweat and desperate unfulfilling couplings from his skin.

  Chapter 14

  Holding out her last dented canteen for trade, Wren grunted at the peddler. Covered from head to toe, goggles protecting her eyes, she gestured freshly unbound fingers at the expired supplement bars.

  She then held up four to signify what she desired. Four credit chips and a taste of food.

  Wind whistling through the buildings, she couldn’t hear the man’s reply. But if he was of the mind he’d be trading her for less, she’d take the damn canteen somewhere else.

  Not that she’d seen other peddlers about…

  Everyone was on edge in the Warrens, but that was nothing new. Her old building tilted no matter the supports tethering it to the more sturdy structures. Like the rats Caspian liked to call them, everyone scampered about, prepared to duck the fall. And it was a fair reason to fear. When decrepit buildings finally went down, the tidal wave of destruction that followed killed off more than a few.

  Though even destruction of that magnitude was not nearly as deadly as poisoned water, starvation, and everyday violence that plagued this part of the city.

  When she shook her head at the offer of three chips instead of four, it seemed the huffing trader was willing to make the barter. Credits and a single bar of food were placed in her hand, and he smiled, decaying teeth on display. Canteen offered, not so much as a word spoken between them, Wren took what might buy her three days of sustenance and began to turn.

  The wind died down just enough for her to hear him say, “…I’ll share the bounty, scavenger.”

  Whatever he was talking about, she didn’t care. Itching her marked cheek under a faded bandana that kept her mouth free of flies, Wren left the old peddler to his table.

  She had a schedule to keep. First her twilight scan for Alec and Mikael.

  Slip past their favorite haunts just in case they’d been released and found their home long gone. Then, once it was dark, to the Waterworks to see if they’d been thrown out and left in the mud.

  She’d conduct the same search at dawn, and had for days.

  No sign of either boy had been found. Considering that Caspian wore a coat made out of people, that he’d had a child whipped, she knew anything he did with either of them would be theatrical.

  So… as least thus far… it seemed he’d done nothing.

  Except cast her out, practically naked, into the mud.

  Crushing down feelings of betrayal, Wren refused to acknowledge them. One could only be betrayed if one cared. She didn’t. She wouldn’t no matter how her eyes stung or how it sometimes grew hard to breathe.

  Those Alphas didn’t cherish her; they just enjoyed the novelty of fucking their very own freak. Even Toby—who wanted to take her out and rub the city’s face in his defective, tattooed mate—thought only to parade her around, smiling that creepy unhinged grin while others scattered at the sight of them.

  She was no one’s mate.

  This she had told herself, over and over earlier that day when she’d picked the honeycombed splints from her hand. She was her own person.

  And the reminder, coupled with free wiggling fingers, left her feeling more herself than she had since waking up in a dark closet, bloody and draped with chains.

  She was healthier than ever. And yes she was hungry. And yes she was extremely thirsty. But she could last years like this.

  And she had not had to whore herself once since she’d fought through the torrents of mud and climbed free of her sinking building.

  She had slept alone on her terms.

  And as she had done before Caspian had ruined her already hard life, she had survived.

  In the worst part of this city, clothes muddy and wind biting, Wren remembered pride.

  And felt her heart warm—held onto that beautiful sensation, slamming the door shut on whatever ugliness the males on the other end of their links reveled in.

  She was strong.

  Though her fingers were weak and not every bone had healed perfectly straight, she could move them. Had practiced for hours with gentle sweeping motion and cautious stretches.

  She had her voice back.

  And now it was time.

  This wasn’t ideal, certainly not what she desired. But after days of deliberation, Wren had come up with no plausible alternate strategy.

  In the dark of night, she had searched out potential places to make a new home. So far, nothing had been safer than the crack in the wall where she squatted. But that was no home, and there was hardly room for her body in there, let alone two growing boys. Tempted as she was to just sneak in and steal Alec, where would she take him for shelter?

  There was no new home.

  Despite years of trying, together they might find a way to climb over the gates and search out Mikael. But Wren had no idea which building housed her sick boy. And there were so many.

  Tens of millions lived in Dale City.

  Three credits left to her name. No food. No water. She could not provide for them like this.

  She’d need money to buy her way out of the Warrens.

  A year’s worth of water could be traded for a lot, maybe even tickets out of this horrible city so they might find a fresh start.

  The very thought warmed her heart further. She’d heard there were parts of the world that were still green. Distant places far beyond what even a year’s worth of water and pockets full of coin might take her to.

  Of course, she’d die before she saw such a place, but all she needed was a new city that would take in two boys and give them a real future. Far, far, far away from Caspian’s Syndicate
.

  From the Alpha in his hideous coat. From brown eyes and secret smiles when no one else could see.

  ...she’d dreamed of him last night—dreamed of Caspian. And in the dream, he’d been kind. He didn’t stink of other women. He didn’t lie.

  There wasn’t pain or battles or mockery.

  The nightmare had been horrific. The following ping in her heart when she’d awakened more than enough to make her ill.

  Ripping the wrapper from her last meal, Wren shoved it under the bandana keeping the reek of shit from her nose, and fought the dry thing for a bite.

  And felt…

  She felt a rippling sensation wiggle and squirm in her belly. She felt a come-hither buzz in her chest.

  The quasi-bond sang to her that Caspian wasn’t fucking his women. He wasn’t drunk or high. But he was angry, frustrated. Had been for two days straight.

  Taking the final bite of her dry supplement bar, Wren swallowed a jagged bit of food down her throat. It scoured her gullet all the way to her belly.

  And that was that.

  To face him starving and even thirstier would make her look weak.

  The splints were off, her bones had healed, she could communicate at long last… and it had to be today.

  Today she demanded her due.

  He’d probably kill her.

  And that… was better than living without her boys.

  Chapter 15

  “Sir, there is an intruder wading through Pitchfork Canal 7.”

  For a moment, a painful beat of time, Caspian’s heart stopped. Hanging his head, it took three full seconds before he found the ability to draw breath. And it shook, damn the mouse, it shook rattling its way into his lungs.

  That was her pipe. The way she had first breached his kingdom all those weeks ago.

  Unable to look at the guard who’d delivered such news, he kept his eyes on the data relay before him, and asked. “Does the intruder look small, like a child?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s her!” Toby shot around the table laden with the evil works of evil men, prepared to make a manic run down several floors of rickety rusty steps.