by V T Bonds
My body stops trembling as I fortify my cocoon. No longer am I lost and alone. Now I have something to protect. Something to focus on. Something to hide. Something that is mine. Only mine.
Chapter Ten
Kwame
He hasn’t told us everything, but I’ve let him keep the knowledge to himself. I sense if Jumoke were to voice the information on the tip of his tongue, the mission would come to a screeching halt.
And I need my omega. Yet again, the connection between us has changed. No longer is her pain ruling my insides. Despair and disgust overflowed from her, and nothing I did could reach her through the barrage of horror.
Just as suddenly as it began, the horrible waves of emotions ceased. An odd sensation had wobbled through my heart, almost as though she’d sent some unsteady thing to inspect me.
Now, I feel her fierceness, and pride races through my soul.
How can someone die in an unexpected and catastrophic event, be forced back to life, and find such courage?
I need her. My instincts pull at me to claim her, angry I haven’t consumed her yet. Trying to contain the clamoring inside my heart, soul, and mind, I focus on my surroundings.
Everyone except for Nova is here, hidden in the desert sand surrounding an underground bunker. I sense their slow heartbeats, our bodies prepared for whatever may come.
There are multiple entrances, our new enemies smart enough not to corner themselves. Jumoke worked his magic and found blueprints of this operation, but we’ve also made escape plans should the mission go wrong. We’re all armed to the hilt, carrying our body weight, if not more, in gear and weapons.
The plan is to infiltrate, beeline to the omega section, and extract our lifemates.
We haven’t found anything to indicate they’ve been separated yet, but my heart tells me Dirk’s omega isn’t below. I long to weep for him, but now is not the time. We will save the ones we can on this mission, then continue to search for his.
We each wear undetectable trackers on either our wrists or ankles, linking us invisibly to Nova and ensuring our teammates can find us should the worst occur.
Hidden in our suits, Dirk has rigged individual black out relays, like the one we used in the room in Embilte. Our foe isn’t expecting an assault—they are so secretive that an attack is very slim—but we aren’t taking risks. We will enter as a team exit as a team.
Converging on a hidden entrance, we keep silent, communicating via hand signals.
The desert wind howls around us, hiding our movement and giving us the element of disguise.
Vander activates a wrist communicator he hijacked from an unsuspecting Alpha soldier while Seeck tosses a little disc onto the sand covering the entrance. At the same time, Dirk flings another disc towards the south and I creep closer to the buried door.
A soft pop reverberates through the sand. I lunge forward and heave, Dirk joining me in lifting the door. Pounds of sand weigh it down, but we open it wide, most of the grains flinging up into the wind. As they fly away, Vander jumps into the opening, Dirk following right on his heels. I prop the door open as Jumoke and Seeck follow into the darkness, no fear in their movements. In one quick twist, I join them, closing the hatch behind me with a careful snick.
Bracing on the sloping floor, I stand with my breath held. No alarms sound, and no electricity surges through wires—we haven’t tripped a silent alarm. No one is any wiser that we’ve breached the facility. I place a mauve-colored patch on the crease of the handle, making sure it molds to the metal. It begins to warm, pulling the inactivated disc out in the sand towards it. The magnetic field of this nifty little device only allows it to pull things northward, hence Dirk tossing the disc south.
I signal success and Vander leads the way down the narrow passage. It feels as though we are descending into the pits of hell. Misery and pain bleed from the walls, and the smell of ammonia and other cleaning agents waft through the air.
We sprint down the corridor, no doors to distract us. Making no noise, we close in on our target with surprising speed. Vander chose our entrance wisely—the escape hatch is unmanned, yet near the holding cells.
Vander halts at the end of the hallway, the downward slope ending and four other passages emerging. After a moment of stillness, he takes the second one from the right. We file after him, our lightweight blades the only weapons in our hands. We’ve strapped the rest of our gear to our bodies with so much skill they fit like a second skin—they make no noise when we move. Our soft-soled boots don’t click on the concrete floor but allow us maximum traction.
My heart leaps into my throat as an eerie sensation courses through my link.
We’re close. I can feel her. She’s three doors down the next hall. Vander checks around the corner, then freezes. With a fist in the air, he signals for us to halt. We do, the exertion of running down the corridors not affecting our breathing. It would take much more to elevate our heartrates.
A feminine scream may do the trick. My heart enters my throat as a tortured wail cracks through my skull. For a moment, I almost give in to the urge to pounce past my teammates and save the omega, but instead reach into the link and test my lifemate’s condition.
She isn’t the one screaming. For an awful moment, I am relieved that it isn’t her. Then the woman screams again, and I grit my teeth against the flash of anger that rises in me.
Vander lifts four fingers, indicating that there are four assailants. Then he resets his hand into a fist, pauses, and motions Dirk to follow him. In a coordinated move, they pop around the corner and rush down the hall. Seeck stands guard at the corner, protecting their back should they need it. A few grunts and sounds of impact later, the female’s scream rings out again. Seeck motions us forward and we spring into action.
Seeck rips the lock off the first door on the right and flings it open, careful to make the least amount of noise possible.
The little white room is empty.
Jumoke twists the lock off the first door on the left and pulls it open. A woman lies on the bed, unresponsive to the noise around her. Seeck follows him into the room, providing backup. I prowl to the third door on the right, breaking formation to follow my demanding instincts.
Grabbing the lock in my right hand, I yank it loose. With an urgent, impatient movement, I swing the door open too hard and it almost clangs on the wall before I catch it. Off balance in my attempt to stop the door from giving our position away, I’m not expecting the direct hit to my stomach.
The stool almost sends me toppling on my ass, but I shuffle my feet and stop my fall. Snatching the offending seat from the air, I can’t stop the growl that bursts from my throat.
Then her scent hits me. Beautiful. Tasty. Salty and sweet, yet wrong. A purr escapes me, and I realize my eyes are closed.
Opening them in a rush, I take in her room. Tiny and white, a copy of the first room we saw, I almost can’t find her despite the lack of hiding places. The white gown covers her from neck to knee, but her skin isn’t much darker. In fact, if it weren’t for the silver in her hair, I could have overlooked her.
My eyes meet hers, but the animal staring back at me has no logical thought. She’s running on fear and natural protective instincts.
I catch a whiff of male pheromones rising from her bed and my vision turns red.
Before I can pull back the beast inside me, I stalk toward her, flinging the stool to the side and growling. Her pupils dilate, and the color of her irises shock me. How could I have overlooked such a splendid green?
She dips down, acting as though she intends to hide under the little table bolted to the floor. With a menacing growl I grab my prey, catching her around the waist and capturing her arms to her sides.
I bury my nose where her neck meets her shoulder and fill my nostrils with her scent. The power of it punches into my soul, and the thread between us strengthens. Even with the change, she can’t fight her urges to protect herself. I realize she’s too worked up from whatever was done to her t
o calm down in an Alpha’s presence. She won’t let me in, won’t recognize I’m her lifemate.
Pride and terror war within me, right along with pleasure. I purr, intoxicated with her scent, loving the feel of her feminine body against mine.
She isn’t as small as most omegas are, and her height has her less than half a head shorter than me. I don’t have to bend far to open my mouth and fill it with her neck.
She stills as I assert my dominance, the wild beast inside me demanding I tame my omega. The logical side of me demands I stop, but having her here in my arms is too much. I grind my hard cock into her lower abdomen, loving how sturdy and soft she is.
She growls.
My omega just growled at me.
She’s no longer fighting, instead she stands rigid in my arms, and I feel the cage encapsulating her mind.
She’s locked me out, and she’s growling at me.
I grab her silver hair, reveling in its softness, and yank her face up to mine.
“You are mine.”
Still, the eyes looking up at me shine with a feral anger, no trace of understanding in them.
Her lip lifts in a snarl, snapping me out of my lust-craze.
Hardening my heart, I use my left hand to open my belt. Hearing the clasp come undone, wariness and fear enter her eyes.
Flicking the end free of the buckle, I unwrap a loop and flick my wrist. As my belt unravels, confusion pierces her anger.
Without a word, I wrap the thin rope around her wrist, not needing my eyes to secure it. Holding her arms to her sides with my right arm, I weave the rope around itself, and within ten seconds her hand has been immobilized.
I fill my lungs with her scent before she realizes what I’ve done, then step back and let go of her arms. By the time she realizes her hands are caged with rope, I’ve finished restraining the other. I left about six inches of slack between her wrists, in case she needs to break her fall or something, but she has zero use of her hands. I’ve created clubs where her digits used to reside.
Taking no pleasure in my actions, I link the rope around her elbows, fastening them to the creases with enough space between so she can raise and lower them, but not flail about.
I’ll caveman carry her over my shoulder if I must, but if we’re going to have multiple people to extract, I need her on her own two feet.
I step into her space again, trapping her arms between us, and grab her chin with my left hand. She tries to back away, but when my grip on the rope stops her, she snaps her teeth at me.
Her feminine growl tests my resolve.
Squeezing the outside of her cheeks so she can’t bite down on me, I lean forward and capture her earlobe with my teeth.
A deep growl reverberates from my chest, full of menace and desire. A lesser Alpha would have mounted her already.
Pressing flush against her, holding her ear hostage with my teeth and controlling her face with my fingers, my right hand grabs her hip.
She jerks away from my touch, but the movement only rubs her body against mine. The telltale scent of slick wafts up, and I fill my hand with her ass, unable to fight the urge to grind my hard cock into her.
Her body responds, but her mind still hides away. She’s using her anger and fear as an effective shield.
Unhappiness and frustration grinds into my heart. I release her glorious ass, snatching the rope again, but keep hold of her ear and face.
Breathing heavily, we stand there, both of our hackles raised and neither willing to relent.
She must come with me. Now.
I tighten my jaw and force my growl into her form. If I can’t break through her mental defenses, then I’ll have to wait until we get to safety.
Pinching her earlobe with my teeth until she yelps, I tug the rope behind my back, forcing her wrists forward so she’s off balance. I lean into her and make her tilt backward until she relies on me to stay upright.
I don’t draw blood, but I come close, the need to taste her almost overwhelming.
When she stops snarling and quits fighting, I open my mouth and lick the indents I’ve made on her earlobe. Movement from behind me breaks my attention.
I whip around, shoving her behind me and ready for battle. Seeck stands in the doorway, a figure draped over his shoulder. He tilts his head down the hallway, and I curse my lack of control.
I nod, my head back in the game. Turning to my omega, I lift the rope in my hand until her wrists are even with her eyes.
“You will come with me,” I command, refusing to growl or purr.
The feral anger pulsing from her dampens, confusion marring her brow. She doesn’t know what to make of my strange actions.
Her feet follow behind me, the combination of restraints and my order forcing her actions.
I grit my teeth and hide the hurt in my heart. This isn’t a joyous meeting. It doesn’t feel like a rescue.
The black cloud of premonition expands behind my breastbone. With more force than I intend, I yank her forward and join my teammates in the hall.
Seeck follows Vander into the room across the way while Jumoke tails Dirk out of the next cell over.
Dirk also has a body draped over his shoulder, but unlike Seeck’s, this person wriggles and fights. That must be the woman who was screaming when we arrived.
Dirk busts the lock on the fifth door and swings it open. His speed and intensity show his desperate need to find his omega. With a quick glance at the empty room, he sprints to the last one on this side of the hall.
Keeping my omega close, I track behind Seeck as Vander opens the fourth door on the left side. A body lies prone on the mattress, but the smell of death permeates the air. Vander pauses in the doorway, sniffing. He shakes his head and moves to the fifth door.
Snapping the lock and opening the door, he checks for occupants. A figure lays huddled on the bare mattress, and it seems as though they’re curled up in the fetal position.
When Vander steps into the room, the head swivels and reptilian eyes loom back at us. The dim lighting reflects a chilling coldness in the orbs, and the empty expression reveals a lack of intelligence.
Instead of sitting up like a human, the creature unravels, a terrifying mix of human and snake features mashed together. It cocks its head, then hisses in warning.
It’s every movement is laced with pain, the agony rising off it in waves. All it has ever known is pain, terror, and more pain.
Vander throws his knife, ending its suffering. Another blade quickly follows, finishing the severing of the head from the body. Vander strides over, retrieves his weapons, wipes them clean on the sheet, then exits the room.
Disgust at the terrible wrongness of what we found threatens to distract me, but I use my training to lock it away. I focus on the mission and stay on Seeck’s heels as Vander prowls to the last door.
My Omega begins to shake hard enough to vibrate the lead in my grasp. When I turn my head to look at her, she sneers at me despite her terror.
My lips purse with my effort to not retaliate, and it hurts to turn away from her. My soul roars in desperation, eager to mingle with hers.
Dirk and Jumoke stomp out of the last room on the right side, no new omegas in tow. Vander yanks the lock off the final door as Dirk stalks across the corridor. He crowds Vander, wrenching the door out of his grip in impatience and ripping it from its hinges.
Sitting cross-legged on top of the table, an Omega peers back at us, utter boredom clear on her face. Her darker skin makes her features difficult to see in the low lighting, but our keen eyesight picks out her expression.
Her coloring is lighter than mine, but only because I’m still tanned from our last mission.
For a moment, no one moves.
Then a glint of mischief sparks in the Omega’s eyes and she unfolds her legs.
“One, two, three, four, five!” She points at a different male with each number. “Oh, bloody brilliant! This’ll be fun!” she says, hopping off the table.
Her next move
is so unexpected Vander doesn’t react in time.
The sharp little sliver of metal she flings pierces between the pointer and middle knobs of his left knuckle. He hisses in pain and yanks it out as he curses.
“We’re here to take you to safety,” Seeck says.
She throws her head back and laughs.
Vander stands in the doorway, not approaching her but also not allowing her to escape. Dirk hovers behind him, but I feel his attention wavering.
Shit, he can sense his Omega. She’s in this facility, but not nearby.
How did I not sense her before?
I track his point of attention, splitting my focus between the chaos around me and the source of his misery.
She’s deeper in the tunnels, but not where there should be any rooms. Jumoke’s blueprint was incomplete.
As the woman's laughter bounces off the walls, Vander tenses as though he’s been shot.
“Well then, lead me to ‘safety’, you big, strong Alphas.” She does air quotes around the word safety, her mirth strange and demeaning.
Her strides are full of power and grace, the confidence in her posture shocking.
Vander stands as still as stone as she sidles up to him.
In a gown identical to the other Omegas, she looks the part, but she’s nothing like the rest. This is not a woman mistreated or traumatized.
She’s deadly and bored.
A hair’s breadth away from touching Vander, she trains her eyes on Seeck.
“You may be here to rescue me, carrot top, but there’s one flaw with that plan.” She turns her attention up to Vander and her grin turns wicked. “You aren’t here to save me, are you, old man? No, you’re here to claim me.” She leans closer and inhales, humming in rapture as she exhales.
Before Vander, Dirk, or Seeck can react, she slips past them and darts down the hall. Jumoke lunges for her but misses. I stick my foot out and catch her toes as she sprints by.
She tucks in midair, rolling through the impact as though she expected me to trip her.
“Well, boys? Keep up!” her flirty tone doesn’t match the situation, but she continues running in the direction of the escape hatch.