Page 53 of Dance Omega Dance

I had clawed my way out of hell before, and I would again. If only to spit in the memory of what they did to my parents.

Squaring my shoulders, I lifted my chin in defiance and met the cold eyes of Kage towering over me. His lips curled back in a slow, feral grin.

"Welcome to your new home, little Omega," he murmured, vicious anticipation dripping from every word. "We're going to have so much fun breaking you."

His words slithered down my spine like ice, but I didn’t flinch. I burned them into my bones. I’d remember them. Every syllable, when I tore him apart.

A slow, sadistic smile spread across his face as he crouched down, his knees creaking, until his face hovered inches from mine.

Our eyes locked, but his held nothing human. Just a cold, gleeful malice. His gaze slid over me like a knife testing for soft spots, each flicker a violation. I could feel himsmellingmy fear, dragging it in like oxygen.

I inched back, spine scraping against the wall, hoping idiotically that its stone might swallow me whole. But he moved faster than I thought possible. His hand snapped out, fingers closing around my throat like a vile collar forged in hell.

"Look at you," he rasped, his breath rancid against my cheek. "Pathetic. Weak. Just like your parents."

The words struck like a blade to the gut, and rage surged, sharp and wild. Igniting through the raw ache of grief. My mouth opened, a protest catching fire in my throat.

Then came the blow.

A white-hot explosion bloomed behind my right eye as his fist connected. My head whipped sideways—crack. My skull slamming into the concrete with a sickening crunch. Pain fractured through me like shattering glass. The world spun. My vision blinkered with bursts of searing white.

I hit the ground in a heap; the cold floor rushing up to meet me. My pulse thundered in my ears. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth, hot and thick. I spat weakly, watching crimson spatter the grimy concrete, but I didn’t scream. I just lay there. Broken and burning, the echo of his words still ringing louder than the pain.

“Plea—” The word barely left my lips before agony shattered it.

His boot drove into my ribs, once—crack. Then again, a sickening grind echoing through my body like splintered glass in a storm. Something broke inside me. I felt it. Heard it, as fire lanced through my chest with every gasping breath.

But the pain was nothing compared to the memories. They crackled through my skull like lightning, each one a lash of pure anguish. My father's swollen eyes as the light faded from them. My mother’s choked sobs as she reached for me, fingertips twitching before falling still. Their bodies had been warm when I screamed for them. Still warm.

Tears carved burning paths down my face, mixing with the iron tang of blood, with the stench of dirt and sweat and fear. I folded into myself, ribs screaming with the effort, arms cradling my skull like that would stop the next blow.

It didn’t.

Fingers like iron tore into my scalp, fisting my hair and yanking my head back so hard the world tilted. I felt strands tear free. Sharp, fiery bursts across my skin. But I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t.

Pain was everywhere now, a living thing inside me, gnawing at every edge. But I welcomed it. It meant I was still here. Stillmine.

For now.

“Look at me!” he snarled, shaking me like a rag doll. "I want to see the light leave your eyes every day when I fuck you." I choked back another cry, trying to focus through the red haze filming my vision. His face swam above me, a sinister smile of victory coating it. But then his gaze snagged on something.

His expression morphed into one of revulsion, and with brutal efficiency, he tore my blouse down the middle, sending buttons flying. Cool air kissed my bruised skin as the tattered fabric fell away. The alpha traced a finger over the silver crescent on my chest. Blake's bond mark. The only thing that had given me hope since they’d taken me.

The alpha spat on it.

"Filth," he growled, releasing me with a violent shove. I slammed back to the ground, gripping my ribs as the pain seared through me. "Claimed and broken already. You're not worth my time."

He straightened, towering over my trembling, battered form once more. With a dismissive flick of his hand, he turned to his pack mates.

"She's all yours, boys. Have fun." Then he walked off.

I could only watch through a veil of blood and tears as they descended on me, their shadows engulfing my broken body. Their feral snarls and vicious laughter echoed off the walls, filling the air with sadistic anticipation.

And I knew, with soul-crushing certainty, that the worst was yet to come.

THE REMAINING FOURalphas circled me like a pack of rabid wolves, their movements tight with coiled brutality. I pressed against the freezing floor, arms cinched around my middle, barely holding myself together. My body trembled, not from fear, not anymore, but from the pressure building in my chest, white-hot and volatile. I wasn’t prey. I couldn’t be. Not again.

My eyes darted between them, searching for a crack in their formation, a moment of distraction. Nothing. Just the beta, lingering on the edge like a coward, wringing his hands and pretending this wasn’t real. He wouldn’t save me. None of them would.

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