by A. R. Ford
“I will touch you in any way I wish. What is your name, Omega?”
“Mia.”
I thought to call him by his given name. Kade.
The possessive nature of his hands, and the foul temper displayed since our ill-fated meeting on the beach, forced the thought from my mind. I thought of him only as Beast. Perhaps he would care enough at some point to encourage my use of his given name.
Kade’s hand moved to the apex of my thighs, fingers sliding beneath the leg band of my panties. My reaction was instantaneous. Legs clamped together, I grabbed his hand, whimpering, struggling, anything to prevent the intimate exploration of my body.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest before bursting free. My belly ached, tensing until I groaned. Unconcerned with his exploration, my hands moved instead, to clutch my belly. “Stop! Please. My belly aches.” I found myself flat on my back. Beast crouched over me, glaring, jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to explode into action.
“Please, no!”
“You will call me by my given name. I am your Alpha. You will submit to me in any way I find pleasing. Has no one told you of these things?”
“Of course, they have. You may not touch me without my permission.”
Kade growled, eyes mere slits. A groan of appreciation came, inciting a cramp that forced my cry free. “I have every right.”
“Only after you claim me,” I said in protest.
“Never doubt that I fully intend to claim you.”
His declaration frightened me. Would he wait for estrus? Customs differed here. Could I trust Kade to be caring, and gentle?
His possessive touch annoyed me. “Let me go home, back to the village. They need me!” My fists pounded against his stony chest.
Kade caught my hands before forcing them over my head. Pinned, I could not move, could not refuse his advances. He caught my mouth in a ferocious, scorching kiss that took my breath. Nipping. Teasing. Groaning. Frozen, unable to move, I knew he could easily overpower me. Resistance was futile.
“Not now, Mia. We will attend to this matter. You will be injected with an estrus inducing compound. When it takes effect, you will be mine.” He released me, and rose to his knees. His body was even more impressive without clothing. Muscular, rippling with raw power. Even that part of him that jutted proudly from his groin as it pulsated, leaking clear fluid.
He left the bed, stalking to a dresser where he retrieved clothing. A pair of camouflage pants, and tank top. The combat boots appeared to be the only footwear he owned. “Come. I want you to see what greatness my people have created on this island.”
Kade unlocked the shackle before taking my hand. He led me down the long hallway. Two wooden doors, nearly a foot thick, standing well over ten feet in height, guarded the entrance to the Garrison. Each door was reinforced with metal straps. Kade opened one door before leading me outside into the sunlight. An expansive courtyard opened before me. The area bustled with activity. Each person seemed intent on some duty. None of them lingered other than giving a nod, and cursory greeting.
Guards in armor patrolled the top of the wall. Each man carried a weapon. Kade led me through the courtyard. The beehive of activity was reflected in each area I saw. An armory. Barracks. A stable of heavily muscled horses, similar to those commonly found on the island where I once lived.
“There is more, Omega, that I cannot show you. My people have created greatness out of nothing more than forest, and earth,” Kade grinned when he spoke. His pride was certainly evident.
“There are so many weapons,” I murmured. “Why do you need them?”
He chuckled at my question. “For war. Those who held us captive will pay for their crimes, tenfold.”
Chapter 3
The Bursar
The ruins of a fallen metropolis held the controlling branch of a subterranean regime. Beneath the decaying debris of an ancient abode that once sheltered great leaders, Betas went about the task of plotting the world’s demise. Control, and utter domination. The two guiding principles marked every twisted deed.
Today’s summons would be no different. Of that much, I was certain.
I picked my way along through rubble littering the floor of a tunnel. A pallid halo of light, from the light carried in one hand, provided the only illumination. A heavy blanket of darkness surrounded me. The smell of mold, combined with whatever lived in the tunnel, created a fetid stench. Breathing through my mouth with a surgical mask in place presented itself as the only option. Should I smell, or taste, the funk? Neither option impressed me as appetizing.
Rustling, and squeaks, occasionally broke the silence, marked only by dripping water. Rodents scurried away when I approached. Puddles of water soaked my footwear. Misery. The pay for the job offer had better be worth it. Shoes were damned expensive on the mainland.
The faint flickering of a broken neon sign marked my goal. “trance” glowed red. The e and n had long since stopped working. I rapped on the door with a knuckle, wincing at the sensation of rust as it dug into my flesh. The door opened to reveal a worker drone. He wore the trademark gray coveralls with One World’s emblem on one side of the chest.
“You’re late,” the Beta muttered.
“Try picking your way through the ruins. See how your day goes.” My voice strained the words past the sneer that automatically formed at the dig. “Let’s get this over with. Is the director in?”
“He’s waiting for you.”
Sickly yellow light lit the hallways. I followed the Beta through the maze past doors. Some were closed. Others stood open. Glimpses of people at work on the next twisted One World project brought curiosity. What were they up to?
I nearly ran into the Beta’s back when he stopped suddenly. He opened the door, beckoning for me to enter. “Good luck.”
His quip, mixed with a sarcastic chuckle, infuriated me. A single-finger salute silenced his laughter. Prick.
The director’s office exhibited an opulence not evident in the other rooms I glimpsed on my way here. A thick crimson carpet softened my footsteps as I approached the polished mahogany desk. An old-school mahogany Victrola produced strains of classic piano music. Beethoven’s Fur Elise. At least he had good taste.
What an interesting moment. My first impression of the director. He sat behind the desk wearing what looked like a gray designer suit, white button down shirt, and thin black tie. Light reflected from his bald head. Oversized, round glasses made his dark eyes appear even smaller. Fat, moist lips smacked when he spoke. Disgusting. But he had credits to offer for what I could provide.
“You’re late.”
“Try outrunning a pack of feral dogs in the shithole above ground. See how you fare. Are we on for business, or do I need to take my offer elsewhere?” My voice held the sassy tone of a person who did not give a damn. I certainly did not. He could take or leave my offer. “Or have you been above ground since you came here? Probably not.”
“That is none of your concern. Have a seat.” The director’s gesture reminded me of a ballerina’s pirouette. Graceful with a sense of purpose.
A gray, overstuffed chair became my resting place. At least it was soft. The fabric bore no stains. Furniture of this quality was nearly unheard of in the wasteland. “We have business to conduct. I want to get out of this place before nightfall. Who knows what lives out there in the dark?” A cigarette flared to life after I found the pack, and a lighter in a pocket of my flight suit. The director frowned. He did not speak. “I can produce an Omega. What’s your offer?”
He sat back, crossing both hands on his paunchy belly. Dark eyes blinked several times in rapid succession. “One hundred thousand credits.”
Bastard. His offer was low ball, and he knew it. I could tell by the twitching corner of his fat lips. Two could play that game. “Half a million.” Highball offer.
The director grunted, his face losing a bit of its ruddiness. One finger twitched. He was nervous. How apropos. “One hundred fifty thousand.
You push your luck, Beta. I have other sources.”
“Bullshit. I have a legitimate source. An unclaimed Omega in her prime. Thank you for the game of chess. I suppose I’ll take my offer elsewhere.” The instant I stood up, the energy in the room changed. Before, it lingered in the director’s favor. Now, it lingered in mine.
The director sat up. Perspiring hands clenched into fists that rested on the desk’s top. He tipped his hand. I had him, and we both knew it. “A quarter million credits. That’s as high as I can go without prior authorization from the directorate.”
“I require half up front.” We stood staring at each other. I smiled, leaned over the desk with my hands splayed on its polished surface. Eye to eye. “Or, I walk out that door. And I won’t be back.”
“Gods! Hold on, let me see what I have here.” His voice quaked in much the same way his hands did. His steely façade, and cocksure attitude, disintegrated right in front of me.
Holding one wrist at the same level as the director’s eyes, I tapped my wrist. “Tick, tock.”
The director stood on trembling legs. He walked to a painting on one wall, removed it, and opened the safe secreted there. Seconds later, he returned with a silk satchel filled with credits which he placed in my hand.
“There’s no need to count it. I am a man of my word,” he assured me.
“One World, and honor? Not sure I believe that.” I turned to go then paused at the door. Looking over one shoulder, I reaffirmed my demands. “If you short my demanded price, I’ll take the Omega elsewhere. I’m certain there are Alphas in this world who would kill to have their own Omega.”
“The remainder of your payment will be set aside, pending delivery of the package.”
The journey through the tunnels into the light of day took less time. Several factors influenced my speed. The pack of feral dogs would be waiting. I worried other threats of the bipedal variety might await me. I knew One World’s treachery ran deep. I wouldn’t put it past them to send an assassin to take me out after the thinly veiled threats tossed out in the director’s office.
There was no time to worry over those concerns. I had a transport to pilot to an island in the Atlantic. An Omega worth her weight in gold waited for me there. She just didn’t know it.
Chapter 4
Kade: Now
I knew she would be mine. The heady sweetness of her scent drew me from the scouting mission on Marleche. My intention was only to gather intelligence. Alpha instinct dictated I take the rare Omega. One of the only Omegas I knew existed in the past thirty years. The others died in the prison. Less than half a dozen--rarer than precious gems. All slaughtered at the hands of feral Alphas.
Shoving the thoughts aside kept the crimson haze from invading my thoughts. If there were more Omegas, no one knew where they lived. No doubt, they were hidden away from One World’s nefarious plan.
She turned as I approached. The noise from my party attracted her attention. Air caught in my throat. Blue-black hair cascaded down her back. It hung even with her waist. Skin made golden from time in the sun. Her body was lean, yet curvaceous in a way that pleased me. I laughed when she ran, feet digging into the sand as she tried to escape. The stench of Omega fear mixed with her natural scent. Nostrils flaring, I pursued her, without question. Her cry of indignation when I caught her did little to dissuade me.
It was only when she sat beside me in the transport that I saw her eyes. The color of honey, fear glistened in the depths. Thick, dark lashes fluttered at my appraisal. She looked away before resting clasped hands in her lap.
Her admission that she had yet to be claimed fired my need. An innocent Omega, such as Mia, was to be treasured above anything.
Now, as she stood at my side, brows drawn together at my explanation of the need for weapons, I knew injecting her with a heat inducing compound was right. My cock thickened at the thought of claiming her. There were other women. Always a Beta willing to service my needs. All of them paled in comparison to my Omega.
“Who held you captive?” Honey eyes met mine when she spoke. The acrid scent of fear lessened when she spoke to me.
“One World. A universal government everyone thought was defeated after the Great War.” Every muscle in my body tensed at the memories rushing back. Of being taken from my parents who lay dead after fighting the soldiers who took me. Of being thrown in a cell. Of being forced to eat slop not fit for hogs. Rage brewed in my gut. Bubbling. Thriving. Living.
Mia cried out. It was only then I realized my grip on her hand tightened. I knelt beside her, examining the bruises where my fingers clasped hers. Tears glistened in her eyes. She observed me, her face flat, and devoid of emotion.
“My apologies for hurting you. We should go, now.” I rose to my feet, taking her hand. I led her into the Garrison toward the medical bay.
Mia’s eyes widened when we entered the room. Berenger, the medic turned doctor, approached us. His insistence upon wearing scrubs added to his official role. He stood a foot, or so, taller than Mia. His body was lean, and lanky. Neatly trimmed brown hair, and brown eyes added to the professional demeanor.
“Are we ready?” Berenger asked. He motioned toward a gurney.
I expected resistance from the Omega. Her complacent behavior pleased me. She lay on the gurney, without question. The calm on the exterior was not reflected in her eyes.
Stormy. Turbulent. Stressed. All reflected in the honey depths. I sat beside her, holding her hand while Berenger palpated Mia’s upper arm to locate the prime location for the injection. Afterwards, I led her to my room. She did not speak the entire time.
Last night, after she fell asleep, I met with members of the staff who worked inside the Garrison. Instructions were given regarding clothing for my mate. The staff followed my directions, without question. It pleased me to see our meals, and clothing for Mia, inside our quarters. The morning meal sat on the table near the narrow window.
“You now have clothing. And our meal awaits us,” I explained.
Mia picked at the food, barely eating more than a few forkfuls of eggs. The bacon, fruit, and buttered toast lay untouched. She drank the milk, without question, but barely sipped the coffee. My concern grew, yet I brushed it aside. Instinct dictated that I claim, and impregnate her. It clamored in the darkest recesses of my mind. It took every bit of concentration, and effort I could muster, to shove it away.
After the meal ended, she stepped into the bathroom, alone, where I heard the shower running. The faint sound of sobs made my gut clench. Foolish Omega. Did she not understand the importance of her place? She appeared moments later, hair still damp from the shower, wearing a clean dress. Her feet were bare.
“Mia.” I crooked a finger in her direction, beckoning for her to approach. She did so, each step taken as if thick mud prevented her forward movement. “What ails you?”
She shrugged, eyes downcast, refusing to answer. Her stubbornness did not last long as the effects of the estrus induction became apparent. Restless, she began to pace the room. Mia was not content with the changes taking place in her body.
“You are entering the early stages of estrus.” My confirmation brought a hiss of irritation from her. At my laughter, she fixed me with a heated gaze. Every emotion she felt was reflected in pupils that began to dilate. “Come. Let me soothe you.”
Mia’s pacing reached a frantic pace. She fled to the bathroom where she remained longer than I was comfortable with. A rap on the door went unanswered.
“Mia, open the door.” Hysterical laughter, intermingled with sobs, met my demand. My fist rattled against the solid metal door. It would not be easily breached. “Open the door, pet. I do not want to hurt you when I tear the door from its hinges.”
I rolled my shoulders when she chose to ignore me. The bones cracked with the release of tension. Unbeknownst to Mia, a key lay in the top drawer of the dresser. I retrieved it, and unlocked the door.
The door swung open to reveal her crouched on the floor. She managed to brea
k a razor apart, and held the blade against her wrist. A scream burst from her throat when I grabbed her hands, fingers biting into the tender flesh. Blown pupils revealed the truth of her mental state, as did the writhing of her body against mine. The transition from early estrus, to full estrus, progressed more rapidly than Berenger, or I, expected it would. The next time we used the estrus induction, it would be necessary to reduce the amount administered.
Mia kicked, and screamed, like a wild animal. I growled low in my throat; eyes narrowed. The dress parted with one tug of my hand. The feverish fire of the rut filled my veins. My cock throbbed, and leaked. A crimson haze infiltrated the periphery of my vision. Stalking to the bed, I held her in the center with one hand, while I stripped my clothing off, and kicked the boots away. I caught a nipple in my mouth, tugging until she howled. The crimson haze encroached further until Mia’s blown pupils nearly disappeared. The first thrust was the sweetest. My cock breached the narrow passage that milked its length. She screamed. I roared; head flung back as my hips settled into a furious rhythm. The desperate need to knot my mate increased exponentially.
Everything faded into the crimson haze.
*****
My vision cleared, as did my mind. I lay on my back, gasping for breath. A mixture of sweat, semen, and Mia’s slick covered most of my body. I sat bolt upright, turning until I saw her. She lay huddled near the top of the bed. Both knees were drawn against her breasts. Tears poured. A bloody claiming mark marred the golden skin of one shoulder. Blood trickled along her collar bone.
My feral nature led to Mia’s suffering. A new urge rose high within me. Protect. Calm. Sooth. It disappeared as suddenly as it appeared.
The feral urge to rut ruled supreme.
I tugged her toward me, spreading her thighs even as I mounted her, once again. One hand guided my cock home. Each blissful thrust inside her clasping silk brought the red haze further into my field of vision. Nothing mattered except the urge to fuck. To knot. To claim.