A moment later, the door slammed open and Mark stormed in, his dark eyes flashing. "Who told you to shower?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so hot," I whined. "I couldn't stand it. I'm cooler now, I'll come sit under the table."
"You should have been there from the start," he snarled, his big hand flashing out. He caught the side of my head and the force of his swing threw me against the shower wall.
Slipping on the tile, I crashed to the floor, banging my hip. My head throbbed and my ears rang as I lay there, trying to pull myself together.
"It's time you learn some manners," Mark growled. He grabbed my hair and dragged me over the edge of the shower and out into the main room.
"What's happening?" Josh asked, bouncing up from his seat. He looked excited for whatever was about to go down.
"This bitch thought she could run away from her duties."
"My heat is starting," I tried to explain, but his hand smacked me across the face again. I cowered back, dripping wet and scared more than I was in pain.
"Then you tell us, your alphas. We take care of heats, not the shower."
He shoved me into Bronson who happily scooped me up and took me into the bedroom. His smell, already noxious, sickened me with the heightened hormones making my nose particularly sensitive. I crawled away from him on the bed, but he easily caught up to me, pressing his entire body weight onto me.
"What do you do when you're in heat?"
"Come to you," I whimpered, my body already overheating again. My thighs were coated in slick, my body wanting what my mind didn't. Closing my eyes, I focused on blocking the bond and letting my mind drift away, like I did at the heat dens.
This pack didn't let me. They wanted my eyes on them, a willing participant to their depravity. They thrived on the fact that my body wanted them so badly and used it. Their business shut down for a full four days while they knotted me over and over again, stretching me wide without any interest in warm up.
Tears ran from my eyes as I scrabbled for the discarded shirts they left nearby, trying to make some semblance of a nest, even if it was with their reeking clothes. My omega side desperately craved softness and safety, but there was none of that here.
When I was pulled out of a deep sleep by Rich yanking my hips up onto his bent knees so he could pound into me early on the fifth day, I realized I felt almost normal. My heat had broken and I was just sore and achey now. That didn't matter to the alpha currently ravaging my body. He finished, his knot swelling to lock us together and I felt like vomiting. It took everything I had to keep from gagging on the stench that was the bedroom.
Finally, Rich softened enough to pull out and he let my legs and hips fall back onto the mattress, which was now soaked with bodily fluids. "I think she's done."
"Good, let's hope that round got her pregnant," Mark said with a yawn. He stretched and got up while I laid there, suddenly terrified.
What if I actually got pregnant from these alphas? I couldn't imagine raising a child in this situation. The house was barely fit for adults, much less a newborn or toddler.
I'd never been particularly interested in being a mother and now the thought made me ill. How could I reproduce with such horrible alphas?
Chapter 8
An Omega's Pain
Liora
They were gone.
I breathed a sigh of relief and sank down on the hard kitchen chair, leaning over the table to rest my head on my arms. I was exhausted, but there was no letting down my guard while the men were here. There was never a moment when they left me alone when they were in the house. Constantly using me, ordering me around, or screaming at me, they didn't let me have a moment of peace. The shared space made privacy impossible, too.
It had been a year since Pack Parker took me from the Omega Reassignment Center. 365 days. 12 months. 6 heats.
Finally, I heaved myself to my feet and went back to cleaning the house. Despite it being a disaster, I couldn't stop polishing itor Mark would get angry. Lately, his anger came with slaps and even punches. Last night, he'd hit me in the face and I had a black eye to sport for it today.
In the bathroom, I wiped the mirror clean and stared at myself. I looked nothing like the omega they'd brought here. My hair was dull and lifeless and my skin was the same. I looked like a shadow of myself, too thin and too scared.
The black fabric of the collar chafed my neck. They never let me take it off and the fabric was damp from my shower still. I slid a finger in between the collar and my throat, feeling broken, torn skin. With a sigh, I applied antibiotic ointment in hopes it would prevent an infection from the skin rubbed raw.
"This is where you'll die," I spat out at the scrawny omega in the mirror. "You're going to die here and no one will even care. They'll just get another omega and run her into the ground, too."
But I did have a choice. I could leave. The thought had been festering in my mind for the past few months, but I'd been too scared to try. But now? What was the worst that could happen? The pack could beat me to death for my insubordinance. They already hit me regularly. I already dealt with daily pain and they couldn't cut off my food any further.
