I could barely breathe or think as the alphas in the room called out bids for me. They were actually pledging money to take me away for vile reasons. There was a slight lull in the bids, then my handler pulled me up and turned me to face the crowd. He grabbed me under the jaw and forced my mouth open, sticking three fingers in.
“Just look at that mouth,” the auctioneer said.
Tears streamed down my face as hopelessness overcame me. This was it. No one was coming to save me.
“Sold for one-point-five million!” the auctioneer cried just as I was losing all hope.
The auction moved fast. My handler grabbed my arm and pulled me to the edge of the stage. I nearly stumbled as he led me down the stairs. Then there he was, dressed in an immaculate, grey suit with a thick strip of lavender silk around the top half of his face like a mask, the alpha who had just purchased me.
CHAPTER THREE
Saint
Lucas. That was the name of the omega I’d been paired with for the auction event. No last name, just Lucas. And from the dossier Hamish had sent to me that morning so I could prep for the weekend, Lucas was a hard player. And he was cute. The profile pic attached to his file was cheeky and sassy. He’d been a member of the Dark Fantasies Club for a while, but I’d never run into him in my occasional trysts into the kink world.
To be honest, I didn’t venture into the world of the Dark Fantasies Club all that often. It was a release when I needed it, a way to feel like I was in control again when the memories started to resurface, the screams and the wail of twisting metal, the darkness cut with fire and the whipping rain that had swirled all around, hitting my skin with as much pain as the shards and sparks from the crash.
I shook myself to banish the memories as I shut my car door, locked it, and hefted my overnight bag over one shoulder.It was coming up on the anniversary of the crash, the twentieth anniversary at that, and I needed something to get me out of my head and into my body. Kink had always been that trick to stop the spiral, and I fully intended to enjoy it now. I was ready to let go for the weekend with Lucas the hard-playing omega.
“Welcome to Kincade Slopes,” the clever-looking omega behind the counter greeted me as I approached.
“Hi,” I replied, wondering if I should feel self-conscious at all. From what Hamish had told me, the entire ski lodge was reserved for the auction participants. The DFC had an agreement with the owners. This was the second event they’d hosted at the lodge, the third auction overall, and it looked like everyone knew what they were doing. “I’m Saint Boscoff,” I gave my name.
“Greetings, Mr. Boscoff,” the omega said shifting his attention slightly to the laptop in front of him. “I’m Mads Kincade, part owner of the lodge. And yes, I see you’re in the system here.”
He glanced from his computer to me and back again, like he was checking to make sure I matched the face on his screen. It was hard to mistake me, really. The crash had left a mean scar across my brow line, running down toward my ear. I was more self-conscious about it than I liked to admit, especially since it could make me look mean when I was just thinking. Resting nightmare face.
“You’re just in time,” Mads Kincade went on. “The event is ready to start. You’ll be in Conference Room One to begin with. The organizers will give you instructions for the weekend there. I’ve got you in suite fifteen. If you’d like, I can have your bags taken straight up there.”
“Thanks. That would be great.”
I shrugged my bag off my shoulder, but as Mads came around to take it, I paused.
“Let me just grab one thing,” I said, setting the bag on the desk.
I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a long, thick strip of lavender silk. I’d had it specially made with eyeholes and a contoured bit so it fit neatly over my nose. I put it on right away, tying it in the back. I probably looked silly, wearing a bandit’s mask into an omega auction, but I’d learned long ago that my size and muscular alpha build, my sharp features, and that damn scar frightened even the most hardened omega players sometimes. It was actually easier to go into a new encounter with a mask.
Mads smiled up at me as if he saw massive alphas wearing designer suits and masks on their way to pretend to purchase an omega sex slave every day. Although given the fact that a few more alphas were waiting to check in now, too, and it wasn’t the lodge’s first time hosting, maybe he was.
“Conference Room One is that way,” Mads gestured to the hallway that ran away from the large, cozy lobby. “You’ve got about ten minutes until they get started.”
I nodded in thanks and headed down the hall, giving the lobby one last look before I went. It was quite beautiful, actually. There was a massive, rustic fireplace with a fire crackling away, several comfortable-looking sofas arranged near it, and a stunning floor-to-ceiling window that took up nearly the entire wall and looked out over the mountain. In the daylight, it must have been spectacular. If I had an omega of my own, I would totally bring them up here for a romantic weekend.
I wasn’t in the mood for romance this weekend, though. Far from it. I’d been too busy with work lately to date, and I hadn’t really clicked with any omegas for a while. It’d been so long since I’d gotten off with anything other than my hand that I’d been seriously considering following my brother Fenn’s lead and taking a part-time job at Bangers & Mash as an EmergencySupport Alpha. I desperately needed the release that the next few days would bring me.
Conference Room One was filled with alphas just like me, restless and horny and excited about the prospect of an extended playtime. Since they’d started it the summer before, the omega auction had turned into one of the DFC’s most popular events, and getting an invitation was like winning a prize these days. I was thrilled that they’d been able to match me with an omega.
“Gentlemen, if you’d like to gather around,” Caden Kuhl, one of the co-founders of the Dark Fantasies Club called out from the small dais at the front of the room. “On behalf of Hamish and myself, I’d like to welcome you to the Dark Fantasies Club’s third omega auction event.”
I was happy to wander to the front of the room along with the others to be given our instructions for the night. It was simple, really. We’d all been pre-assigned omegas that we’d matched with based on general compatibility and play style, but part of the fun of the illusion was that we could all shout out bids for other omegas if we wanted to. Caden encouraged it to add to the fantasy for the omegas.
“Some of our omega participants like to get deep into character,” he explained. “Part of their experience is feeling the fear and allowing them to react to it naturally. So don’t be alarmed if some of our participants shout or cry or beg for help. It’s all part of the game.”
I nodded along with some of the others and rolled my shoulders. Usually, it was my job to bring calm and balance to people experiencing trauma. That’s what I did as a grief and trauma counselor. It would be interesting to see those emotions left to run free. There was some belief that it was therapeutic to allow someone to work through their trauma by giving way to it and vocalizing it.
Except what really happened after the first omega, who was already in heat, was dragged onto the stage was a lot of bad playacting.
“Up next, we have this sweet boy, who we snatched right out of his university class,” Caden announced to the room of salivating alphas as the second omega was brought onto the dais.
