Page 5 of Chain Me Knot

Light floods the basement, harsh and blinding from the single bare bulb. I cry out, throwing an arm over my eyes. After so long in darkness, this weak light is like staring into the sun. Tears stream down my face as my eyes burn and struggle to adjust.

Three low growls echo off the concrete walls, the sound reverberating through my bones. My heart threatens to explode from my chest as I blink desperately, trying to clear my vision. Three massive figures fill the stairwell, blocking any hopeof escape., I can’t see their faces properly in the basement shadows, but I don't need to see them to know what they are.

Alphas. Three huge, powerful alphas bigger, stronger and more terrifying than any alpha I’ve had the misfortune to cross. Terror claws up my throat, threatening to choke me. My body trembles so violently I can barely stay upright but it’s better than awaiting my fate lying down. Three new alphas. Three new potential tormentors. Three more sets of hands to hurt me, to use me, to…

My mind shuts down and I start to hyperventilate.

“Omega.” The word rumbles from the largest alpha, and I jerk at the low, urgent tone. The chain around my ankle rattles, metal scraping against raw flesh. A whimper escapes as pain streaks up my leg, the sound pathetically small in the concrete space.

Smoked whiskey turns to burning oak, filling the basement with the acrid stench of violence. His massive hands grip the bars of my cage, muscles bunching under black tactical gear as he rattles the entire structure. “What the fuck is this?”

Gods. Has Matthew sold me to other alphas? Forever? Or just for now? He always threatened me. Told me they’d spent too much money on a defective omega. I didn’t have to be in heat to be fucked. Told me I’d pay for all the money they’d spent when they bought me. I told them it hadn’t been my choice to be sold at all. It took three months to heal after their ‘corrective measures’ and I never said another word when Matthew rambled on about how much of a bad deal I was to them.

I press against the wall, trying to become one with the concrete. The whimper in my throat turns into a terrified keen as the alpha’s rage fills the basement. Is he enraged because of my stench, or what I look like? Did he expect some clean, curvy omega down here? If I had access to a shower, perhaps. Or food. But I’m trapped here and have only been able to rely on alphas who treat me worse than an abused pet.

“Asher,” one of the other alphas warns. The one who smells of fresh, piney sandalwood. “You need to calm down, brother. You're losing control.”

Asher. The big alpha has a name. Names make them more real, more terrifying. Names mean they're people, not just nightmares, and people can be so much crueler than shadows.

“Calm down?” His voice thunders off the cinder blocks. “They put her in a fucking cage, Soren! Like ananimal!” Another rattle of the bars makes me flinch so hard my teeth clack together. “Where are the keys?Where?”

A scuffle of movement, then the metallic clink of keys sounds. I know exactly where they are, hanging on the far wall out of my reach. Taunting me with false hope of freedom.

“Got them,” the third alpha says, his coffee-dark scent sharp with tension, but Asher's already snatched them away with a growl that makes my stomach turn to water.

“Brother, you need to get control,” the sandalwood alpha—Soren—tries. “You're terrifying her.”

But Asher is beyond reason, his rage a living thing that fills the space. His scent has turned dangerous, primal. Burning oak and ozone-tainted lightning strikes. This alpha's rage will destroy everything in its path, including me. Including whatever's left of my broken self.

“Please,” I sob, the word breaking on my tongue like glass. “Please don't hurt me. Please, alpha, I'll be good. I'll be so good. I'll do anything you want.” The words tumble out, desperate and meaningless. They've never helped before, but they're the only defense I have.

The key rattles in the lock, metal scraping against metal. The sound might as well be a death knell. The door swings open with a screech of hinges, and my world narrows to pure, animal terror.

Present. I have to present. It’s the only thing I know how to do in the face of this magnitude of alpha aggression. I force myself onto my hands and knees. My arms shake so badly they can barely hold me up. The thin shirt I wear hangs in tatters, exposes too much skin, but modesty died in this basement long ago. Maybe if I show him I’m a willing omega, his rage won't destroy me completely. Maybe if I submit perfectly enough, he'll be quick about it.

But the alpha doesn't mount me. Instead, he sinks to his knees in front of me and... gathers me into his arms? My mind stutters, unable to process this deviation from the violence I expect. Why isn't he taking what he wants? Why are his hands gentle where they cradle me against his chest? This isn't how it works. This isn't what alphas do with omegas hidden in basements.

His touch is gentle, so gentle it hurts more than violence would. Because gentle isn't real. Gentle is a lie. Gentle always,always,turns to pain. He rips off his helmet, and I catch a glimpse of wild features. Dark hair falling over his forehead, olive skin flushed with emotion, stubble shadowing his jaw, but it's his eyes that freeze me in place—dark brown and filled with something I can't comprehend. Something that looks almost like... pain? Anguish? No, that can't be right. Alphas don't feel pain over omegas. We're nothing to them. Nothing but—

“Mate,” he growls, the word vibrating through his chest where he holds me against him.

The word makes no sense. Mate? I'm already claimed, already bound, already broken. There's nothing left to mate. Nothing left to…

His mouth opens and he lunges at my throat. Sharp teeth sink into my flesh, and the world explodes into sensation. His warm venom slides through my blood, merging, becoming one with me. The first wave of his essence hits me like a drug, his satisfaction, his alpha pride at claiming. That I expect. That's normal. But then...

A tsunami of anguished horror crashes over me. Intense self-loathing steals my breath. Acid guilt flows through me, followed swiftly by brutal shame. His emotions are raw, visceral, and make me recoil deep into myself. The weight of hatred crushes me. Bones, muscle and sinew implode.

The black hole of his unending horror winds around me and sucks me down. I must be truly worthless. So disgusting, so broken, that I've made an alpha hate himself for following his instincts.

Chapter Three

Soren

I've never seen Asher lose control. Not in ten years as bond brothers. Not through countless raids, not through the darkest cases, not even when we found that omega adolescent last summer on the cusp of maturity being cornered in an alley by a pack of alphas desperate to claim an omega for their pack. Our prime alpha is our cornerstone. Steady, ethical, the one who keeps us anchored when cases threaten to break us, but the moment that cell door swung open, something shattered in him.

His scent turned savage. The sound he made when he gathered the omega into his arms wasn't human. Neither was the way his teeth found her neck as he bonded with her outside her heatbecause he could. Phoenix and I werefrozen in horror at what we witnessed. The moment Asher snapped and his control broke is seared in my psyche. This... this is everything Asher stands against.

Everything he's fought to prevent.

---