I will survive this, I tell myself, repeating it like an oath, over and over, as he escorts me to a limousine outside All Saints Hall.
“Front seat with the driver, Haley. I need to have a private conversation with my beloved.”
Marcus grits his teeth, but I give him a discreet nod and he takes the front passenger seat. Rad helps me into the back seat and then holds the door open for Blair.
I can’t help but stare at her. Her raven-dark hair is pulled back into a severe ponytail and her honey-brown eyes glitter with a rage I know she can’t act on.
“You remember Blair, don’t you?” Rad says easily as he slips in beside me.
“I do.”
I’ll never forget the way she thrashed as arcs of electricity ripped through her body.
“She’s my insurance.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“In case any of those degenerate alphas you’re so fond of get any ideas. You’ve seen what she’s capable of.”
I’ve seen her blow a concrete block to dust with only her mind. I shudder to think what she could do to a person.
“I have,” I say, obediently showing him my neck.
“You see, beloved? Any omega can be taught to obey. Even one as feral as Blair.” He looks me over, smug satisfaction in his eyes. “You don’t have even a fraction of the fight she had. But breaking you will still be so much more satisfying.”
His scent spikes in pleasure, and I force myself to breathe through my mouth, nausea rising in my stomach.
“So much more satisfying,” he muses to himself with a dark chuckle.
* * *
We finally pullup to a fancy restaurant in downtown Fairhaven and Rad helps me from the back of the limousine.
It’s just after 11:30, but the restaurant is already half full, and I don’t know if I appreciate the witnesses or resent that I’ll be seen like this: a pathetic, collared creature.
An obedient omega.
A maître d' leads us to a table in the middle of the restaurant, and Rad gallantly draws my chair out for me. I risk a glance at Marcus as he goes to stand against the back wall where he can see the whole restaurant. Blair follows him, the sigils on her collar glittering in the warm, low light of the restaurant.
I ball my hands into fists beneath the table, but plaster a faint, simpering smile on my face.
I will survive this, I tell myself again.
He orders for me, as he always does, and then pours me a glass of champagne. I sip from it obediently and wait for the blow to fall.
“How did you find my demonstration, beloved?” he asks, as if asking if I’d enjoyed a theater performance. And then I realize that’s what it was to him. Countless people were hurt, but it was all theater to him, a performance of terror, perfectly staged and orchestrated.
And here he is, taking his final bow.
“Innocent omegas nearly died because of you!” I hiss.
“There’s no such thing as an innocent omega,” he snaps, his voice hard. “You’re all filthy, lying temptresses. Not one of you deserves to live as anything but a slave or breeder.”
I snap. I’ve carried the weight of this grief and fear for too long. The appeasing smile on my face falls, replaced by a snarl. “You fucking monster!”
Murmurs spread around us, and I realize I’ve raised my voice too high just as his slap lands against my cheek. My head snaps to the side, making the collar dig into my neck. Pain lances through me, and I let out a cry of anguish.
Marcus surges forward and grabs Rad by the front of his shirt, dragging one arm back and balling his fist, readying to strike him, just as Rad struck me.
