Page 8 of Marked Omega

The doctor pauses. He turns on his heel and draws near. His breathing is heavy through his mask.

“Despite all of the research we’ve compiled over the past century, we can never be certain how an individual’s mutation will play out.” He nods toward Sara, where she is now slouching in her beta stupor. “And as you well know, it is only the strongest, most athletic men who are likely to display an Alpha mutation. Such men are a valuable commodity. The government needs those men for security roles and to fight foreign wars. We can’t risk wasting good men like that only to get beta mutations.”

I ball my shackled hands into fists. If it weren’t for these chains, I would bring my fists down on this creep’s skull.

“But nobody’s going to care too much if a few young women go missing?” I spit. “I guess we’re not a valuable commodity.”

Dr. Lucian tenderly strokes my cheek with his gloved fingers, making my skin crawl and my stomach turn.

“Don’t fret, my dear. Here in the zone, an omega is very valuable indeed, as you will soon discover.”

On a sudden impulse I lash out, trying to bite his hand. If I can just puncture the material of his glove, he will be exposed too. Forced to mutate. At least I might avenge Sara that way. And Eva too.

But Dr. Lucian is too quick for me. He draws his hand away, and my teeth clack together, biting nothing but air.

“Amazing,” he mutters to himself. “The bitch has already gone feral.”

“Come on, Doc,” Bishop growls. “Time to go.”

The commander has come up behind Dr. Lucian to look me up and down. Deakon and Chappel have both disappeared into the surrounding woods.

“We should remove her underwear,” Dr. Lucian says in a creepy voice. “To expedite the diffusion of her pheromones through the surrounding a—“

He is cut off by a low, moaning howl in the distance. The sound sends a tingle up my spine, and my skin prickles with goosebumps. What’s even weirder is the clenching sensation at my core. Slickness pools inside my panties, and I feel a rush of shame for having this kind of reaction at such an inopportune time.

This can’t be happening.

“No time,” Bishop said. “And no need from the sound of it. Deakon and Chappel are both in position and the bait is set. You and I will monitor the situation from the safety of the vehicle.”

I watch as the two men leave, moving at a quick trot up the sides of the grassy incline before disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

And now I’m left all alone with Sara, the poor woman slumped and drooling in her chains.

That’s when I notice something strange. All those birds I heard before? They’ve gone quiet. The entire valley is silent except for the faint clink of our chains.

Another deep howl breaks the silence, closer than before.

CHAPTER 4: ADDOM

The scent is intense and impossible to ignore. My body responds immediately. My heart rate rises, my muscles tense up, and my cock swells with anticipation beneath my fur loincloth.

It’s an omega. And she’s in heat.

I rush toward the scent, weaving in and out of the dark, moss-covered tree trunks. The dappled sunlight filtering through the forest canopy strobes across my eyes.

My body is barely in control as my muscles strain to run at a full sprint, charging ahead until I find the female and mate her. My mind, however, recognizes the danger. I keep my stealthy hunting form, moving on the balls of my feet, my bare soles almost silent on the carpet of leaves and pine needles and soft moss.

But as I draw closer, the scent becomes stronger. And as the scent grows stronger, it becomes a struggle to keep myself from descending into a delirium of lust.

Without even meaning to, a deep, low howl erupts from my throat, echoing through the trees. It is pure instinct, an ungovernable reflex.

The purpose of the primal call is to signal to my pack brothers that I have found a female in heat. My call will draw the other males in so that we can all claim her cunt.

I remind myself that I must contain my urge to howl. This place is beyond the boundary of my people’s territory. These are the far lands. My people rarely venture out here. A few of the old-timers brag about going so far that they could see the great wall, but sometimes I think they are just repeating stories they heard when they were young.

In fact, the only reason I’m here is because the tribal council sent my pack to scout the territory. We have started doing so ever since we started finding those other females mysteriously chained to trees in the area.

Except for one of them, the women were all betas. They were all dead by the time we found them, shot through the chest by a gun—an outsider weapon.