Broken Angel: The Complete Collection: A Dark Omegaverse Romance

by Penelope Woods

  “Forgive me if I don’t know how to feel about all of this,” Rae says. “It’s all so—”

  Ruby interrupts her sister. “New? Yes, I know. I don’t expect you to celebrate the Republic, but you must know that the changes are in the peoples’ favor. Take in the sights. The air is clean. The grass, freshly cut. Have you heard a single explosion since you came here?”

  “No,” Rae admits. “I suppose I haven’t. We are far away from the city of Dagon.”

  “In time, we will visit the city together. When we do, we’ll see all the sights. We can go shopping, and then we’ll take subway cars. They move much faster now,” she says.

  Rae nearly smiles, but the sadness of the reality stifles her happiness.

  The clothing she wears belongs to Ruby. Even the braids in her hair are of Ruby’s doing. If she accepts things as they are, she will tumble down into a spiral of depression.

  She will turn into someone new. Someone much worse. Like her sister…

  Outside the grounds, a car waits, spilling fresh diesel onto the cobblestone pavement. Ruby opens the side door and waits for her to climb inside.

  As soon as Rae walks toward the door, she sees the plastic child seats in the back row. At first, she can’t even comprehend the sight. But as reality sets in, she sees her children.

  Ruby’s children…

  “What’s wrong?” Ruby asks.

  Rae’s eyes gape open. Unable to blink, she tries to speak, but instantly fails. Instead, Rae shuts her mouth and betrays a light whimper.

  Without care, Ruby walks over to the other side of the car and steps inside. Carefully leaning over the carrier, she brings her voice into a sweet and motherly tone, causing Rae to shiver with disgust.

  “Oh, my children. You are behaving quite well today, aren’t you?” Ruby asks.

  Her babies, Rae’s babies, stare at her with bored expressions.

  “Children…” Rae whispers.

  Rae prepared for this moment for so long. It was supposed to be special, a day she hoped would bring them together again.

  Two years is a long time. They have grown up fast.

  “I thought they might be a good edition to our foray today,” Ruby says.

  Rae tries her best not to cry, though the pain within her throat is almost too unbearable to take in stride.

  “You don’t need to speak,” Ruby says. “Let’s drive.”

  The car leaves the grounds, speeding off into the distance.

  Far ahead, Rae views the faint green outlines of some shrubs and dense trees, but her mind remains focused on other things. Ruby drops the right strap of her commander’s dress, revealing her small breast. She whispers, “Are you three hungry?”

  How can her sister do this to her? She can’t even produce milk, and they need to be weaned.

  As the sun pours through the window, she appears as a stoic goddess, and Ruby eyes her like a brutal hawk. Ruby forces one of the boys into her arms, causing him to squeal.

  Rae jumps forward to help, but she’s met with a harsh slap.

  Ruby, clenching her jaw with anger, tucks her child into her breast, forcing his mouth over the malnourished nipple. There is no milk, and the boy immediately shows his distaste by screaming.

  Ruby reacts by screaming back at the innocent child. “What did you do?”

  Rae turns away, but Ruby’s intentions are right out in the open. Finally, heavy tears fall from her eyes. She knew she appears weak and unsophisticated, but she lacks the capacity for the insanity her sister shows.

  It breaks her heart into a million pieces, causing her to freeze up sideways, and eventually break her spirit once more.

  Rae wipes her tears. “I’m sorry…”

  Ruby pants like a lion. Finally, the boy takes hold of Ruby’s nipple, biting to satisfy his mother.

  “There we go,” Ruby whispers. “Good boy.”

  After no milk is ingested, she pulls the boy away from her breast, revealing thin pricks of blood. Rae gasps with revulsion, turning to stare at the calming fields outside the window.

  It does not help.

  “They are my children,” Rae whispers.

  Ruby raises a brow. “Excuse me?”

  And then Rae turns, full of conviction. “They are mine,” she reiterates. “I gave birth to them. You just stole them. You are nothing more than a petty thief.”

  Ruby takes her shoulders and violently thrashes, fists landing firmly against Rae’s neck.

  The tantrum ends when the car stops, but the toddlers scream so hard it sounds like their vocal cords are scraping their throats dry.

  For a while, it is all that encompasses the vehicle, but as Ruby reconciles her violence by hurriedly combing her own hair, Rae can see her sister’s obvious weakness.

  “You put on the tough exterior of a leader, yet the children you raise wish to bleed you,” Rae says.

  Ruby lashes back with biting words. “Beware, sister. Once your life expires, you will become an even bigger martyr for rulers like Severin. They will celebrate and shed tears of joy once they truly kill you.”

  “The public would view them as villains,” Rae says.

  Ruby takes a big breath. “Only if they are the ones to kill you.”

  As the driver opens his door, a chill runs through the car’s interior. Quietly swallowing, Rae places her fingers against her sternum. “Once again, I apologize. You are right, sister. I have a lot to learn,” she says.

  When Rae steps out of the vehicle, she weakly collapses into the dense blades of grass. Eyes open, she observes the dark and sun-soaked forest green around her. Monumentally vibrant trees create a cathedral of nature, shrouding their bodies in a mysteriously innocent glow.

  Her lungs inhale the fresh air, cold and pure. Beauty, natural beauty surrounds them.

  “What is this place?” she dares to ask.

  Dancing within the invisible air stream above her head, a bright orange butterfly swoops down and lands on her nose. “Oh my!”

  Rae nearly clasps her hand on the insect to catch it. Out of respect for its life, she resists the urge. It lingers for a few moments until it flies away.

  Rae wants to laugh and express her joy, but the next thing she sees is her sister’s ugly face, thin from worry and obsessive planning.

  She keeps the children in the car, out of sight and mind. Simple props.

  Ruby tosses a heavy and ancient rifle against Rae’s chest, hurting her but only mildly compared to most of what she has suffered. “You act like you’ve never been outside,” she says.

  Rae barely touches the bark on one tree but, worried she might get infected with some unknown poison, she secretly rubs the sappy excess on her dress. “It’s been some time,” she admits. “But I’ve never seen so much life in one place before. Is this another gift granted by the New Republic?”

  “No, it is not,” she mutters. “This is what the world used to be like. It is the last vestige of the real world, before the alphas made idols out of machine and experimentation. Now, let that sink in while I focus. I think I see my first target.”

  Ruby breathes and takes aim at a small bird perched in one tree. She squints her eyes, matching the trophy with her sight. “Ordinarily, it is uncommon to hunt such a docile target, but the urge to fire can be too strong. Alphas like Cassian eradicated most of the animals years before the Republic gained its strength back,” she adds.

  Still, it is something to hit, and once the bullet tears through the air, both women feel a wave of exhilaration rush through their thighs.

  Rae runs forward, jumping over a fallen branch hidden in the grass. Tossing her gun to the side, she yells, “You got it.”

  Dead.

  Death is the only prize worth winning.

  Rae stoops to get a better sight on the blackbird, but her smile wavers as soon as she sees the wing twitching, erratic and sad. The endless struggle to hold on to life ends with muscle spasms, and the silence that comes afterward forces more nausea into Rae’s throat.
/>
  The morning dew hangs on the blades of grass, and life seems to grace every inch of this space. Yet, Death cuts like a scythe, and the endless toil of alpha-kind merely lives to taste one dot of virtue.

  What does Death have to say about this? Absolutely nothing. Death makes a deal with the innocent, and so it goes, on and on until the world burns.

  The blackbird is just like her, brittle and weak, but full of old truths. Myths propagated by sinister alphas wishing to justify the cruelest actions. Ruby must know she is playing an alpha’s game by gripping her silly hands around the phallic instrument of death.

  Like a child, she dips her palm into the green and red beneath her. She allows herself the strength to hold the gift of nature against the clean air, away from the mixed soil. The bird is heavier than she expected.

  “I would like to keep her,” Rae says.

  Ruby lowers the rifle. The driver of the car comes beside her and graciously offers his hand to stow the weapon until another animal comes into a clearing.

  “A trophy is a very fine thing to keep,” Ruby says, pleased.

  Rae doesn’t dare move lest she disturb the soul of the poor creature. She wants it to know that it died in honor, but sentiments such as honor only exist for the living’s appreciation. The most beautiful ideas lift the dead from their graves, but they can never experience them.

  Cassian once remarked on how the world was built from chaos. But as her mind expands with age, she comes to realize even the worst madness props up a very structured house. That structure protects the wealthy, the ruling class. People like her sister.

  Ruby bends next to her sister, kissing her temple tenderly. “It is now an icon.”

  “Like me? I’m an… icon?”

  Ruby nods and turns her gaze upward. Rae follows her sight, tracing the hypnotizing patterns of branches and leaves. “We reside in a natural cathedral,” Ruby says. “Everything is made to reflect the hierarchy of the universe. Alpha-kind binds its wrists with symbols. The lamb lives innocently to die by the lion’s tearing teeth.”

  “So it can live forever,” Rae says.

  “Infinite and pure,” Ruby adds. “The world needs both lions and lambs. Otherwise, where would we be?”

  Heaven.

  Rae imagines a field of sheep, calmly grazing until the shepherd calls them in for supper and sleep. She sees the image of a man blowing into a horn, another trophy. She thinks of a warm cabin in the woods. Near a burning fire, a family watches the man hack an axe into a plank of wood to keep them warm. In this prophetic vision, a candle made from the belly fat of a whale illuminates the house so they can live in light.

  The world is built on the back of suffering, and alpha-kind can hardly wrestle with this understanding, let alone admit it.

  Rae stands, clutching the dead bird to her chest, staining the white of her dress with splotches of rosy reminder. If her unkempt disposition angers Ruby, she does not show it. Instead, her demeanor has turned kind.

  Ruby lowers her voice to a whisper and positions her face toward a small deer that appears behind a set of trees. The animal bends her neck into the grass to eat, ignoring the two entirely. “Grab your rifle. It’s your turn to tumble a beast.”

  Rae cowers inside her head. The deer is exquisite. But it is another reflection of her docile self. She is not a lion, nor is she a lamb, but she is aware of the danger.

  There is only one logical conclusion to her sister’s games: death and trophy.

  “No, I can’t. I won’t,” Rae whines.

  Ruby takes the gun herself and forces it against her sister’s chest, and Rae’s arms curl around the metal shaft and wood butt. Her hand feels pulled to that trigger, ready to destroy everything in sight. Ready to kill.

  As Rae holds the deer in her sight, two adorable fawns peek their heads out from behind a nearby shrub. Without a sense of danger, they frolic toward their mother and let out falsetto noises of curiosity and adoration.

  Rae’s tongue seems to thicken against her throat.

  She attempts to lower the gun away from their mother, but Ruby takes the barrel in her hands, holding it steady. “Do not run from your destiny,” she says. “You are Rae. You are immortal and pure, like the glossy dew that collects into the soil.”

  “I cannot kill,” Rae protests.

  “You killed your maker, Cassian. You have the potential inside your heart,” she says. “Give these beasts a slice of immortality.”

  Lost in a state of panic, Rae shuts her eyes, focusing on the heavy beating drum of her heart. The meaty organ kicks against her sternum. The beat of war, the apple plucked from a tree, the coiled snake resting in the stomach; in one instant every archetype flashes through her mind until her world seems to explode.

  She fires the rifle.

  Rae lets out a shrill cry of fear, desperation, and loneliness. Shaking, she drops the smoking gun and clasps her hands over her cheeks. Womanly shrieks echo through the forests, sending the deer running as a herd.

  Rae can’t believe what she has done.

  Ruby jumps, stomping her heel into the earthy soil. “Damn,” she curses. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  “Is that all you can think to say? I murdered their mother,” Rae cries.

  Ruby takes her by the root of her hair, pulling her up on two feet. “You moron. You missed.”

  Rae wipes her wet eyes, focusing on the trunk where the bullet hit. Slowly, sap drips down the bark. Yes, she missed.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby. I tried. I really did,” Rae mutters.

  But there is no time for cheap apologies. As soon as the deer vanishes into the green forest, the driver opens the door to the sound of her babies crying for their rightful mother.

  “Madam, I’m sorry to cut your trip short, but the Minister of Propaganda wishes to see you at once,” he says.

  Ruby clutches the dead blackbird’s feet together. “Severin? What on earth could he want?”

  But before she finds her answer, Rae lifts her rifle and points with a smile.

  “Bang,” she says. “Maybe we can both be icons.”

  Chapter Six

  As they walked toward the gates of the marble towers, Lucas notices Killian’s new demeanor. “What’s wrong with you? Your face is the color of a ghost,” Lucas says.

  Killian eyes the terrain and feel his heart swell longingly. He wants love, to feel as if he isn’t just floating in idle space.

  “Just thinking about someone,” he says.

  “Rae?” Lucas asks.

  Killian bites the inside of his cheek. “Two families were stolen from me. The first happened when I was too young to understand. That experience should have prepared me for Rae’s absence. But it didn’t. This hurts far worse than when I lost my father.”

  A tired smile graces his face. “It doesn’t get any easier. That’s for sure,” Lucas says.

  Killian nods, but he has a feeling this wouldn’t be the end of these thoughts. As they walk into the actual grounds of the royal palace, he notices how grand in scale the architecture is. A solid gold ceiling glimmers above their heads, and suddenly, the weight of their situation sinks in.

  This palace is made to look like heaven. But it is far worse. It is Hell.

  Lucas points at an old painting near the entryway, a beautiful omega perched in a rowboat. Three candles sit on one side of the boat. On the other side, a plate of sliced apples wait to be eaten.

  “It’s art like that that makes an alpha worry,” Lucas says, shaking his head.

  Killian’s eyes trail away from the painting. In the room's corner, an old man with a black hood sits in a wooden chair with a thin scalpel in hand. Planted firmly in his eye socket is a small magnifying monocle. As this figure breathes, he cuts into the center of a dead blackbird. A string of guts plop onto the marble table.

  “I wasn’t aware of any visitors,” the man says to Severin. “I’m busy, and you are interrupting, Minister.”

  “I need you to keep these men under your wing and out of
the queen’s sight,” Severin says, ignoring the man’s comment.

  “I do not serve you. I serve the queen,” the man protests meekly.

  “I am asking you for one simple favor. Don’t make me beg,” Severin says. “We have been through so much.”

  The man sets down the scalpel, sighing audibly. A thick red paste drips onto the edge of his flowing black robes. “Am I to presume you wish for me to keep them out of the sight of the Prime Minister as well?”

  “This is for the purpose of national security,” Severin says.

  The man curiously raises an eyebrow and smiles, revealing his yellowing teeth and disfigured mouth. “Does she know yet?”

  Severin remains silent, but the man cackles loudly. “More secrets. Good, good. I love games. It’s by far the best change within the Republic. Lots and lots of games to play. So much fun.”

  “Just do as I say, dammit, and I won’t have you killed,” Severin snaps.

  The man croaks. “How much is national security worth these days? Perhaps you can purchase me a fresh mattress? Better yet, I’d be willing to settle on another room in, let’s say, the upper quarters.”

  Severin blinks wildly, contorting his jaw as if he is chewing on the physical thought. “Whatever you need for payment, consider it done. Just give these men jobs,” Severin says.

  The man, much older than any of them, grips his chair and stands, knees bending from the pull of gravity. Groaning, he takes in shallow breaths of dusty air and walks through the large stone hallway lit by thin candles. “Come, come,” he mutters. “I have work for you.”

  The alphas follow, but Severin does not. Instead, he turns his back on the alphas and moves in the opposite direction.

  “You can’t just leave us here,” Vash says.

  Pausing, Severin turns his face. “I have business to attend to. If Ruby finds out you’re here, she’ll have you castrated. My advice is to lie low. I’ll be back when I have more to offer you.”

  Although this doesn’t sit well with any of them, they have very few options to choose from. A life near Rae is better than anything else. “It’ll be fine, Vash,” Killian says. “We’ll follow the man to our quarters and rest easy for the night.”