Page 50 of Marked Omega

But still, despite everything we have done, we have not actually had sex yet. It sounds like that will soon change.

“W-what is the binding ceremony like?” I stammer.

Addom smooths his big hand over my back. His touch is gentle but firm.

“Tonight we will claim your body,” he says as if that explains everything. “We must show the tribe that you belong to us now, in accordance with our laws.”

“When you say claim my body, you mean…you’re going to fuck me?”

I’ve known that this was coming. I’ve been awaiting it with a mix of excitement and apprehension. There’s no denying the physical attraction I have for all three of these Alphas, even Hasker. In fact, it has grown deeper with every passing day since they first marked my body with their seed. Now there is nothing I want more than to feel them moving inside me. I want to go all the way with all three of them.

But these Alphas aren’t into casual sex. They want to breed me.

And an even greater source of apprehension are those words that Addom keeps using.

Claim. Possess. Belong.

Okay, fine, when I was back in the city hives, my life was hardly one of exuberant freedom. I was basically a wage slave for the SynerGen Corporation. And my comings and goings were greatly restricted by the draconian laws of the new world.

But no one owned me. The way these Alphas are talking, you would think I was their pet.

I shouldn’t like that idea. I really shouldn’t.

Addom just gives me a mysterious smile. We step out onto the wide balcony patio where Hasker and Kadmon are crouching by a small fire cooking. Hasker’s intense, dark eyes flash under his thick eyebrows, and his heavy beard makes his expression unreadable, but I’m sure he’s just scowling under that hair. Kadmon rises and brings me a wooden board laden with food.

After a lifetime of eating synthetic food, it seemed so strange to eat things from nature, but I’m starting to get used to the idea.

“Eat,” Addom says sternly. “You will need your strength for the binding.”

I’ll need my strength? Yeah, this ceremony definitely sounds like more than a wedding. And then there’s that little turn of phrase that Addom used a moment ago.

He said we were going to show the tribe. Does that mean we’re going to have an audience? I’m not sure how I feel about that. What we did before in the cave and last night in this very dwelling was private, far from prying eyes, and that’s how it should be. Over the past few days I’ve learned how pleasurable intimacy can be, but it is also dirty. Something to be hidden. Something to be ashamed of.

And if we are going to have an audience for this claiming ritual, how big will it be?

But when I try to ask these questions, Addom just responds as before, like a broken record.

“Eat,” he urges. “You will need your strength.”

***

After breakfast we depart.

Our jungle penthouse is several stories up. Instead of taking the stairs down to street level, the Alphas rappel down the thick, ropey vines climbing the walls of the tower. I am lashed to Addom’s back with leather straps that he assures me are secure. Nevertheless, I hold on to his thick neck for dear life. By the time we get down to the ground, however, my nervousness has started to fade, and I find myself actually enjoying being the Jane to his Tarzan, just like in the antique movies I used to watch as a girl.

Only this Jane has three Tarzans.

Due to my convalescence, I haven’t spent much time down on the streets of the city yet. In fact, this is my first time walking around in the daylight. The atmosphere is surreal. For one thing, the buildings are overgrown with plants and vines like they were ancient jungle temples instead of skyscrapers.

But even weirder is the sense of space and emptiness. Back in the city hives, it doesn’t matter where you go; everyplace is crammed with anxious, busy people—the trains, the pedestrian gantries, the office lobbies and food canteens.

Here, however, there is room to breathe. The grass covered roads are spacious, the plant-filtered air is oxygen rich and energizing. And best of all, you can actually hear yourself think. No shouting crowds or clanging machinery here; just the gentle moan of the wind drifting through the manmade canyons.

That’s not to say that the streets are completely empty. We pass many other groups of people along the way—clutches of tall, broad shouldered Alphas surrounding their much smaller and more delicate omegas covered in piercings.

All of them stare unabashedly as we pass. They are curious about me. Curious about the strange little outsider whose skin bears no jewelery.

It makes me feel extra naked, if that is even a thing.