Page 7 of Omega's Triplets

These thoughts chased each other through Mark’s head as he ran in the pale light of the rising moon, and by the time he returned home, sweaty, exhausted, and human, he had the beginnings of a plan.

Chapter Two

“Girl! Up!”

The bars of the cage in which Maddy lived were rattling. She opened her eyes to see one of the Death Fangs glaring in at her. She didn’t know his name—she didn’t know any of their names—but in the dim light, she could see that it was the one with the red hair and the scar on his face.Good. She feared him less than most of the others, although she never would have described him as kind.

Kindness felt like something that had happened to Maddy once in another life. She could remember her childhood, of course. She remembered the big house she’d grown up in and the well-manicured yard where she’d been allowed to play. She remembered having clean clothes and as many books to read and movies to watch as she could have asked for. Most of all, she remembered the feeling that she was special, that she was more important than the others in her pack.

In those days, being an omega had felt like being a princess. Now, it was more like a curse.

The bars of her cage shook again, and Maddy got to her feet. The cage she lived in now was an improvement over the one she’d been given when she’d first been sold to the Death Fangs by the boy who had kidnapped her from her yard. That cage had been small and free-standing, and Maddy hadn’t even been able to stand up in it, even though she had only been thirteen years old at the time. Since then, she’d been moved into a cage that was more like a room—more like a jail cell, really. It had concrete walls on three sides, and the front was formed of iron bars. She had a cot in here, and a working toilet, and even a sink.

Sometimes, when things were bad, Maddy forgot herself and actually felt comfortable in these surroundings. It could be worse, after all. The cage she’d been in before had been worse. And then there were the yearly auctions. Every year, the oldest omegas the Death Fangs had captured were put up for auction. Maddy had no idea what became of them, but she didn’t imagine it was anything good.

The bars of her cell rattled for a third time. “What?” Maddy asked. “I’m up.”

“Over here,” the Death Fang growled. They were often like this. It seemed to make them angry that they had to speak to her.That’s not my fault, though, Maddy thought.I’d rather not talk to them either. She knew there was no point in resisting—he’d come in and drag her over if she didn’t obey—so she approached the door.

The Death Fang opened it.

That was a surprise. That had never happened before. She was allowed out of her cell twice a day for exercise, but she’d already had her morning session and it was too early for the afternoon one. What did he want? Unable to help feeling alarmed, she stepped back.

He waved her forward impatiently. “Come out.”

“Why?” Surprises rarely meant anything good with the Death Fangs.

“You’re to be prepared for auction,” he said.

He spoke as if he were telling her the weather, but in truth, it was the most devastating news of her life.Auction. It had hung like a specter over her since her thirteenth autumn, when she had first witnessed the auction. She had been new to the Death Fangs then and hadn’t quite understood the scope of what she was dealing with, and she’d been confused as she’d watched the older girls in the yard, every day, getting ready. They were given hot baths, she knew, instead of being forced to wash up at a sink with cold water and hard soap the way she was. Their hair had been cut and tended to, and they’d received dresses that flattered their figures. Maddy, in her rough beige cotton shift, huddled in the dirty corner of her cell, had been painfully jealous, and when she had learned that she too would have her turn, when she reached breeding age, she’d been thrilled.

And yet, the other girls didn’t seem happy. Even as they were cleaned up and prepared, the expressions on their faces grew more miserable, day by day. She would have asked them what the problem was, but the Death Fangs’ girls were never permitted to talk to one another.

At the age of sixteen, she had been taken to her first auction—not to be sold, but to work. Her job had been to serve drinks to the guests. But what she’d seen had shocked her.

The girls for sale were lined up on a stage. The bidders were encouraged to approach them and to examine them physically, touching and squeezing anywhere they liked. The girls had to bear this treatment in silence, or a member of the Death Fangs would slap them, and hard. One by one, each girl was sold and taken away by one of the guests, her wrists and ankles bound together in chains.

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