Me: You know he gets grumpy when food gets wasted.
Lucasshole: Bring beer.
With that, I watch the pings shoot back and forward for a moment, Fury arguing with Lucas over the finer beers available, before I shake my head and go back to helping with grub.
I love our pack, truly. Being one of the most recent members alongside Atlas, it finally feels like our little family is complete, aside from having an Omega between us all. But—and there is always a but—dinner times are chaotic at best, and even worse when Fury calls meetings. Our Cardinal takes his seat at thehead of the table when he comes in, his usual relaxed slouch replaced by a ramrod straight tension, bouncing his leg and staying uncharacteristically quiet as he takes us in. Banter and talking about our days are the meat and potatoes of dinner time, and keep us close as a pack, especially on rare days like this when we are all together for dinner. Lucas creeps in just after the two of them, settling in his chair opposite Fury. Atlas just has this dazed, dreamy look on his face, walking around like he’s not all here, and occasionally sniffing his shirt.
“We met our scent match tonight. She’s not just an Omega, but a shifter too.”
Silence.
Not even a breath leaves any one of the five of us around the table. Our world is shattering around us as he says those words, and I think about what happened in the store earlier, that beautiful galaxy print blanket resting in the sterile white nest in the loft. Stillness reigns until Lucas stands, scraping his chair along the floor and setting his full plate next to the sink.
“Luc, sit.” It is as close to a bark as I’ve ever heard from Fury, but Lucas barely budges, stopping in the doorway, dark arms straining against the order beneath his perfectly creased shirt. His face is guarded, but we can all see the pure agony on his features. “Atlas met her, too, confirmed the match.”
Lucas turns in the frame, leaning against it and heaving as his Alpha writhes against the order still, but his golden eyes are molten against bronze skin. Brows slam down, and he lifts his lip, hissing like a cornered snake. “I cannot do this again, I told you already. I will not.” With that, he shakes off the pull of the bark and retreats. I’ll stick my head in later to check on him, or Teddy will, he’s not so angry when it's one of us.
“Fury,” I begin, fingers drumming on the table as I scoop some chicken and potatoes into my mouth, “Whassa plan?”
Grinning wickedly, our Cardinal lights up, hands flying in exaggerated gestures as he talks about her. “We’ll be attending the auctions next Monday in the city. Goddess, you should have seen her, Clay. She just sat in the bar like she owned the place. Domed an Alpha with one of my whiskey glasses. Stunk up the place with her spicy little cocktail scent.” He swallows hard, adjusting his pants and coughing. Atlas chuckles, scratching his beard and licking his lips, a faraway look in his eyes. “She came in wearing a dress like a flaming sunset, muzzled and all, escaped from the auctions and just decided to hide across the street. She’s fucking incredible. Had to hide my hard-on all night.”
He looks dazed and halfway in love already. Fury might be a playboy, but he’s always been like that. Flicking between women quickly keeps his heart from attaching itself to them, but he looks seriously dazzled by this Omega, and that’s saying nothing for Atlas, who doesn’t have a thought between his eyes except for her.
“What does she smell like?” Teddy asks, tilting his head. As a Beta, his nose isn’t anywhere near as good as ours, but I know he’ll be mixing it up later before bed and taking a good, long drink.
“Something rummy,” Fury swoons again, “She smells like a good, hard rum, with a lime rind and a sprig of mint.”
I can taste it on the tip of my tongue, and it has need settling low and heavy in my gut, tingling the bottom of my spine. Leaning back in my chair, I catch the movement of Lucas vanishing up the stairs at the tail end of our discussion, snooping like a teenager. Turning back to my Cardinal, I see him catch the movement with a wry twist of his lips.
“Get out your best suits, gents, we’ve got an auction to attend.”
Skye
Meeting your mates is supposed to be world-changing. Your life collapses in front of your very eyes and rebuilds itself on the knots of your mates, or something like that. Nothing has improved so far, though, not whilst I am trapped under Anna's steely thumb, pressed into the dirt. She knows something has changed, and is making sure I regret every second that I spent causing her problems now. On top of the stress caused by her treatment, my body is still trying to yo-yo between pre-heat and not, trying to draw my mates in with perfume even when they’re probably miles away from me now. Not only am I dealing with guards who are more than happy to beat me if they think I need it, but now I have painful cramping and mood swings, too.
It’s only the first night. The auction ended hours ago, and the facility is quiet as I’m marched between two enormous Beta guards towards the heat and holding cells.Ohhh,solitary, we’re going straight for the big guns tonight. Freezing tiles echo the sound of my bare feet padding, though it's almost drowned out by the heavy boot stomps of the guards, and I cringe at the blooming purple marks where they’ve already stepped on me, and I’m fairly certain at least one of my toes is broken. Howling beneath my skin, my wolf is pacing the cage of my mind, calling for hot blood between our jaws.
Meanwhile, my Omega is curled in a corner, whimpering for a nest and our mates. I’ve not had a nest since I entered the auctions five years ago now, so I’m not really sure what she’s expecting. Maybe one day. In the vicious tug of war in my mind, I am a dinghy on the wild waves, playing submissive until an opportunity comes up.
Anna had thrust me at these two men with the demands that I not be violated and no marks that couldn’t be covered by makeup or clothing… That still left so much skin, though, so many places to hurt, and you can’t see broken bones either. Aside from the stinging cheeks from slaps, my face is still mercifully intact, but the rest is not so lucky.
My ribs are starting to show a kaleidoscope of bruises, and I am proud to admit that only a single sob escaped during the first beating, and how much I prayed that my pack would turn up next week, or that someone—anyone—would bid on me.Would the pack care about damaged merchandise? If their Omega arrived a little tenderized?My eyes close as exhaustion starts to settle in, but the worry is overbearing. I feel bare and vulnerable since they stripped the beautiful dress from me, but I still sag as my legs struggle to hold me, and the guards haul me forward with angry grunts. My mind is thankfully a hundred miles away, drifting to two handsome big Alphas and imagining what the rest of their pack looks like.Maybe another big beefcake of a man? Oh, maybe another Omega?I always wonder how double Omega packs work, but maybe it would be nice to share a nest with someone.Hmm,a wave of insecurity takes that thought with it.What if they have a supermodel Omega already?I wouldn’t fit in well, I don’t think. I hope the rest of them aren’t built with abs to grate cheese on, for once, I’d like an Alpha to be a little less Alpha-y.
Young Omegas dream of scent matches; they’re rare as it is. But sitting in class after you’ve just had your first heat, orperfumed for the first time, you imagine how your pack will be built, at least until real life hits and you realize how shitty Alphas can really be, how their only goal is to bind you and use you as a sweet little knot warmer and baby maker.Not for me. Not now, not ever.The only good thing about them is that pulling the wool over their eyes is easy, and all I need is to get them to take me away from here so I can escape into the forest and happily live off-grid.
Huffing in pain as I am finally dropped on the tiles, I play my part here. They strip the last of my clothing, my plain underwear, dumping it in the trash before standing me up again and cold hosing me down. All those hours spent with Cassie doing my hair and makeup, and they are just going to jet wash me. Pounding with pain, my ribs don’t take kindly to the pressure of the water, and I try to redirect the spray away, but the fucking sadist keeps rerouting it and moving around me to make sure he is blasting me straight on. His buddy to the side is letting his eyes devour me, lip pulled between his teeth as he takes in my naked body. Nausea catches in my throat as he lingers over my bare thighs and up to the delicate crown tattoo above my pubic bone.
“Making a statement, princess pussy?”
His tone sends chills from head to toe, but I hide it with a half shrug, “Everyone is an unruly teenager once.” I meant to get it covered at some point, but the time just never felt right, and then Dad shipped me off.Maybe with a pack, I could?Shaking that thought away, I pull my mind back to the present, despite its persistent attempts to be anywhere but here.
“You ever taken a knot?” His rank stale cigarette musk makes me gag as he pushes into my space, blocking the exits, his reach long enough that if I bolt, I’ll barely make it a few steps.
“Nope, saving myself for the right Alpha and all y’know?” I’m not exactly lying. I’ve slept with Alphas, but I’ve never taken aknot. Too much risk is involved in being tied to someone for any length of time, especially if they have BCE—Big Cardinal Energy. I’ve heard horror stories about them staying locked for hours. I think that maybe the Beta will leave it alone after that, but it only seems to feed his little fantasies. Knotting is an enigma to most Betas; they struggle to take one without the stretchy Omega anatomy, even with training, though I’ve heard that Alphas don’t often enjoy it either.
Keeping my eyes respectfully down turned, I try to edge away slightly and dodge the hand reaching for my cheek. With a spitting curse, fingers squeeze into the softness of my flesh, pressing until my lips part. My damn fangs are pressing into the insides, and I have to consciously fight the shift now that the pain and tiredness are encroaching on my self-control. Hot breath blasts me as he leans in close, sniffing as my alcoholic scent turns to sour ethanol, with the edge of fear screaming to get away from him by any means possible. I have to get away from this place before one of them kills me, or worse.
Clicking heels along the corridor draws the guard's attention, and I take my chance. Shaking my head sharply to dislodge his grip, I sink my fangs right into the soft pad of his palm and tear a chunk of meat straight off as I dart under his arm. Anna blocks the way back, and it leaves my only option to scamper into the cell behind us, where the heavy door slams and locks behind me to the sound of the Beta throwing his weight against it.
