Broken Angel: The Complete Collection: A Dark Omegaverse Romance

by Penelope Woods

  Lucas pats Vash’s shoulder. “I bet they have some excellent wine here.”

  Vash glares at Severin. “Don’t fall back on your word.”

  It’s a poor threat, but Severin nods in acknowledgment. “Farewell,” he says. “And try to be safe. You’ve made it this far, but I can only protect you for so long.”

  The old man lowers his black hood, hobbling toward a large wooden door. Upon opening it, he leads them out to the back of the premises.

  The sun is setting along the horizon, casting a rich purple hue over the entire sky. In the near distance, an old and rather worn down barn stands, and behind the structure, cornfields flow with the wind, only a few short months away from being ready for harvest.

  The wind scurries across the land, causing the stalks of corn to rustle against one another as if issuing a dark warning. Killian knows where they stand. They had fought on this very field years ago. They watched their best friends and soldiers die here. It is remarkable to see what could grow on the lifeblood of so many victims.

  The man hacks, spitting on the ground. “You came at a terrible time. I was about to stuff the queen’s new trophy.”

  “Trophy?” Lucas asks.

  “Yes, from what I have heard, the twins had a fine day of hunting. She nicked a blackbird and wished to keep it as a prize.”

  “Doesn’t sound like our Precious,” Vash says. “Are you sure she shot the creature?”

  The old man answers with a glare.

  Killian peers back at the grounds. The two towers must house at least one hundred rooms. Made of solid marble, the buildings reflect the sherbet sunset against his pale skin. “Vash, do you get the sense that we’re walking into a trap?” he asks.

  Vash appears troubled. “We have agreed to play a wicked game designed by wicked people, but we’d know if we were walking into a trap.”

  “Severin enjoys speaking in riddles, but he lacks the qualities of a true mystic,” the man says. “Don’t listen to that ass-kisser.”

  “I’m not worried about Severin,” Killian says.

  The old man shakes his head. “You should always be worried,” he says.

  Lucas laughs, closing his fist methodically. “I don’t think you understand who we are and where we come from, old man.”

  Pointing at Lucas’ tattoos, the man bares his teeth. “Ouroboros trader scum. I know exactly where you come from. Do not fall into the trap of believing this world is polished and new. It’s a ghastly, hideous palace, built on death and deceit. It is no different from yesterday.”

  “We survived the worst wars mankind has yet to offer,” Vash boasts.

  “Yet, you are the villains. The rulers of the New Republic are the new heroes,” he says. “You can’t take away the cards in a game. You can only hope the dealer shuffles them to your advantage.”

  The alphas remain silent until they reach the barn. The inside is empty, spare a rough bed of hay and some rusted shackles. Killian’s stomach shifts, and he instinctually darted his eyes toward a patch of land where they might escape.

  The fields appear endless.

  “You’ll sleep in here tonight until we find something for you to do,” the man says, motioning them forward. “Come on, now. Into the chains. And no funny business either. I may be old, but I know when someone is gearing up to run. There are guards across the entire grounds.”

  The old man watches as the alphas put on their chains, tugging to make sure they are closed correctly. After adjusting the metal rings, he lets them drop and begins his walk back to the quarters.

  “Wait,” Killian says. “You’re leaving us, too?”

  “It wasn’t your design to come here, yet you made the mistake of following. Now, what is your next move?” he asks.

  This time, the man’s laughter sends Killian into a fit of rage. “You old bastard,” he screams.

  He pulls on his chains, not at all fazed by the pain of the metal cutting into his flesh. He lunges forward until his wrists ache and bleed.

  “Keep your insults to yourself. You will come to need that energy soon enough,” the old hoary rat says.

  Killian lowers his voice and pants. “Before you go, please just show us where she is.”

  The man puts on his hood again. “Go to sleep. It might be your last time to dream.”

  The day turns to night as the pestered man walks back into the towers.

  “What the fuck?” Lucas growls.

  “He’s just messing with us,” Vash says. “These people want to get under our skin. We’ll be back with her by tomorrow. Hell, they’ll probably hand us medals of honor by next week.”

  “You’re acting delusional,” Killian mutters. “They’re telling us the truth. We just need to get better at reading between the lines.”

  Unable to agree on the issue, the alphas take to arguing, but Killian remains transfixed on the dimly lit windows of the marble building. He counts over two hundred and fifty-three panes, but he cannot see Rae anywhere.

  He thinks about her hunting, and a smile curls on his face, bringing joy into his heart. “I miss her so much,” he admits.

  “Me, too,” Lucas sighs.

  Killian runs his fingers through his unkempt beard. Every time he feels the rough strands, he is surprised at how long they have become. His hair is the same way, waving down past his eyes.

  When he thinks of Rae’s hazel eyes, he wonders how much she has changed.

  Vash lies against the thorny hay, tracing the outline of a few dense scars along his abdomen. “I think about her every single second I’m awake.”

  As Killian closes his eyes to rest, the wind rustles across the land, forcing an unsettling fear into his heart. He can’t help but wonder what Severin is gaining by bringing them here.

  Perhaps, it doesn’t matter. The alphas have something to dream about, but will their answer to their prayers finally come? They are so close to her, and yet, Killian feels so far away.

  At last, when he drifts his head back, he sees the stars above align. And just as he is about to close his tired eyes, he sees a pair of grimy feet.

  His eyes widen as a blade rests against his throat. Exhaling, shock rolls through his body.

  “Sit up and shut your mouth, filth.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ruby sits on her knees, tracing her finger around the mattress.

  Leaning over the bed frame, she fixes her eyes on the cornfields below her window. When she turns, she notices a newspaper clipping on her dresser. Staring back at her are the three images of escaped alphas, threatening to find their way back to her sister.

  Sensing Severin’s presence behind her, she tenses. And when his lips meet the crook of her neck, she rejects him.

  “Have we found the prisoners?” she asks.

  Severin’s warm breath falls alongside her shoulders and the soft skin on her back. He massages her arms.

  She is tense. Always tense. She can barely look at him.

  “Mm,” he grunts, huffing loudly. “Can’t we put our stress aside for one moment and allow ourselves a little love? I mean, my God, sometimes I feel like we’re not a couple.”

  Ruby sucks in a tight breath, forcing herself away from the Minister. “That’s because we aren’t a couple,” she mutters. “You seem to lack any understanding of the state of the Republic. I need those men, and I need them dead. Rae would very much like a funeral for her first loves, and it would be wise of me to give it to her. At the very least, it would make me look better.”

  “Wise, maybe. But you’re right, my dear. I do lack some understanding. What is it you want from her, anyway? The people adore her, that much is clear, but she could disappear tomorrow and they’d find another martyred celebrity to worship. I can’t comprehend why she is so necessary to you,” Severin says.

  Ruby swallows, sucking in her cheeks to give herself an air of intelligence. She despises seeing Severin’s gloating eyes light up with every word he speaks. Ruby is the Prime Minister, not him. She isn’t as stupid a
s he makes her out to be.

  “I just need the alphas to disappear,” she says.

  “Once our men find them, I will personally deliver them to the milking chambers with the rest of the criminals. You can use every drop they offer to aid in your pregnancy,” he says.

  “Stop,” she says.

  “Very well,” he says.

  Ruby nods solemnly and allows herself to fall back into Severin’s arms. She knows he is persuading her with falsehoods again, but she has nobody else. She has become so used to his assiduous tricks of speech that it exhausts her. But as she clings to his thin chest, she seems to catch him off guard with her curiosity.

  “It’s odd that you brought up the prison. I nearly forgot the place existed,” she mutters.

  Severin’s heart drives faster, pulse hitting so hard it nearly reaches her chest. Worried she might notice, he removes his belt and leans back against the wall. “Come, let’s fuck. Feel me. I’m as hard as a rock.”

  He lowers his pants, forcing her hand against the hard shaft. For the first time in months, he is erect and ready. His meaty package rises into the air, blooming a lubricant-based crown. Ruby strokes the foreskin back, feeling her pussy grow warm and wet with slick. He is never this ready to penetrate, and she hates to miss her chance, but he is hiding something from her, and she hates that more than she wants to fuck.

  Lowering herself to her knees, she keeps her hand tight around the base of his shaft. She glances up at him with prying eyes, and Severin looks away. “Why do you ignore me?” she asks.

  “I despise the place. The smells, the sights, the deafening moans… I don’t like any of it. We use their seed for nothing. I stay away from the grounds entirely,” he says.

  “Yes, you do have an aversion to coming.”

  He frowns. “Now, you’re just taunting me.”

  She drags her fingernail up his happy trail, pausing at his navel. “Again, I am sorry. You’re right. I am taunting you, but no more games. Lean back and enjoy this.”

  Severin tilts his chin and closes his eyes. At once, he appears at peace with his plans and position in the world. He is a beast who counts his cards regularly, carefully shuffling them when need be. As the Minister of Propaganda, he takes pride in his winnings, even boastfully celebrating in front of the servants.

  Ruby takes every inch into her mouth, moaning like he’s a piece of fresh apple pie. Her hand moves between his legs, carefully cradling his balls. At first, she is as gentle and sweet as a schoolgirl. However, after some time, she bobs her head faster and faster.

  Intent on making him come, she gags and twists her tongue around the underside of his tight shaft.

  As soon as she feels his head bob with pulsating might, she squeezes her palm around his balls and slides her lips free of him. Messy with saliva, she smiles and watches him gasp.

  She squeezes tighter, mocking him.

  “Let go. You are hurting me,” he grunts, red in the face.

  “You visited that place,” she says. “I inquired for you yesterday. You were gone. What were you doing there?”

  Weak. Powerless. Pathetic.

  Severin holds his hands up in surrender, gasping. “I went to check on the grounds’ conditions. Ask the specialist. Ask her.”

  Ruby doesn’t like this answer. “Helen? Severin, my dear. Why do you keep lying to me? We are supposed to control this world together, but you are letting it crumble to dust.”

  “I am doing everything I can to secure the safety of this Republic,” he squeals.

  Beyond the doorway to their room, clumpy footsteps echo loudly, followed by the breaking of glass. Soon enough, she can hear the yelling of the guards. “Christ, what is it now?”

  The door bursts open, and Rae runs through their room with her flowing white robe gliding around her body. She is like a ghost.

  The guards follow but fall to their knees as soon as they witness Severin with his cock sagging in Ruby’s hands.

  “Out!” he yells. “Get the fuck out.”

  “Ruby,” Rae cries, dropping to the floor. “I saw them. I swear it. I saw their faces, their powerful bodies. I could smell their scent. They are here.”

  Rae turns into a pile of sulking fabric and flesh.

  Ruby sighs. She looks up at Severin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “I’ll deal with the queen. You get some sleep,” he says.

  Ruby nudges her hips forward, pushing Severin against the windowsill, noting how loose the hinges are. “Stay put. You work too hard for an aging man. I’ll tend to the queen,” she says.

  Severin grinds his teeth. “Very well,” he mutters. “I’ll be in my quarters, drafting the queen’s speech. If you need me to clarify, do visit.”

  Severin shuts the door to their quarters, and both women sigh with relief. Ruby wipes her chin, coughing awkwardly. “He has a way with words. I must read over his script before you address the people.”

  Rae wipes her eyes. Suddenly, she seems calm. Her blackbird sits on the desk near the bed. Pointing, she walks toward it. “You had it stuffed for me,” she says.

  Ruby walks behind her sister, rubbing her back. She does not recoil or jump. Instead, Rae turns and hugs her twin tightly. She even kisses her plump cheek. “I know we’ve had our differences, but things can be good between us. I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” she says. “So, take this. It is your first trophy. Go on. Take it.”

  Rae takes the bird in her hands. The body, stiff with rigor mortis, has been manipulated to spread its wings in a triumphant pose.

  A look of pride forms on Rae’s face, but it quickly fades. It was an easy kill. Pathetic and tragic. If the bird is, as she thinks, a reflection of herself, she wonders if the others look at her in the same way.

  “Thank you, sister,” she says. “You’re the first one to give me something here.”

  Ruby smiles, back against the wall, breathing easier. Her mind goes back toward her meeting with Severin, but it no longer feels like a heavy and uncomfortable conversation.

  Severin acts as a powerful alpha when he holds the cards of the Republic so neatly stacked between his palms. However, he cannot realize one important fact: Ruby can change the game at a moment’s notice. She writes the rules, not him. And, if she wants to, she can take his queen.

  “Tell me what you saw outside your window,” Ruby says.

  Rae closes her mouth, holding the bird closer to her breast. “It doesn’t matter,” she says.

  But Ruby places her finger underneath Rae’s chin and forces her to look into her eyes, concerned. “It’s okay,” she says. “You can tell me. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Well,” Rae pauses.

  Without warning, Rae takes her sister’s hand, leading her toward the closed door. She opens it, pulling her into the hall.

  “Hey, where are you taking me?” Ruby asks, curiously allowing the pull to keep happening.

  After meandering through a series of dimly lit halls and passing through the strict male guards, Rae takes Ruby into her room and shuts the door with force. “There,” she says, pointing at the window. “Down there, by the cornfields. I swear on my children I saw them.”

  Ruby squints, suddenly worried. Whatever Severin is up to could hurt the Republic.

  Nevertheless, she can’t have Rae acting up like this.

  Closing her palm into a brutal fist, Ruby lashes back and hits Rae’s jaw, nearly dislocating it. Then, reaching into her pocket, she grabs a set of black gloves, placing them on to cover a small cut made from her sister’s teeth.

  “What did I do?” Rae wheezes.

  “You called them your children,” she says. “They are my children.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Rae says.

  Ruby turns, unlatching the windowsill. Outside, the wind rages against the barn. A few storm clouds are rolling in, which is odd, considering the weather has been so calm lately. Either way, there is no life outside except the sullen cornfields.

  “Where
did you see them? Don’t just point. Tell me exactly where,” Ruby demands.

  Rae ambles close to her sister but keeps her hands balled up near her cheeks. When she is close enough, she barely points her knuckles toward the edge of the barn. “There. I saw them there, peeking through the cracks in the wood.”

  “You’re sure it was them?” she asks.

  “Yes, but their hair was long. They each had lengthy beards, and their eyes were darker. Still, I know it was them. Unless…” Rae drops her head and sighs.

  Ruby finishes her sentence. “Unless your mind is playing tricks on you.”

  Rae is not immune to obsessive fantasies. She is full of them. A rich storyteller, she practically dreams out loud.

  “We can go down there and check,” she Rae. “It’s the only way we’ll find out the truth.”

  Ruby shivers through the cold and shuts the window. “And what will happen if we get down there and no one is waiting for us? What then, hm?” Ruby asks.

  Silence.

  “You are sick, Rae,” she says. “You have been sick for quite some time.”

  “No. Please, you must believe me. If anyone, you of all people understand when I’m lying and when I’m telling the truth. This was real. If they aren’t down there, you may beat me into a coma. I don’t care any longer,” she says.

  “I’ll beat you senseless if I damn well please,” Ruby says, spiraling into resentment. “You know, at one point, I was just like you. An aging, pathetic cunt.”

  Rae’s eyes light up with fire. Her body shakes, and a manic appearance takes over her face. “Please, stop your insults.”

  “A fatherless bitch. A childless mother,” she sneers. “What is worse than someone who cannot rise above their means?”

  Shaking, Rae points again toward the window. Ruby does not turn. Lost in her anger, she hits Rae’s cheek, forcing her to the floor. Every time Rae points, she receives another blow. Over and over, the woman smash and cut her fingernails into easy facial flesh.

  Blood and saliva drip to the floor. Ruby only stops when her sister’s hand falls limp near the bed.