Page 141 of Your Wild Omega

The other two lawyers on Callisto’s team scramble with a device and suddenly a photo of my scars flashes up on a big screen on one side of the court. In the photo, my skin stretches tight over protruding bones in my neck and shoulders. I didn’t realize I was that emaciated when they found me. A nurse must have taken it the day I registered with the Omega Center. Callisto describes the photo as evidence and then returns to my story.

As I spin away from the screen, I catch a look of anger on Ray’s face. Fury, not remorse.

I clench my fists around the cloth mask and sit up straighter. “I don’t know how long each session lasted for, but the attack continued until my haze glands dried out. They then left me tied up in the, um—” I flutter my hands out in a rectangular shape. Bed? Not really. “Well, it was like a table, or hospital bed, I guess. They left me lying in my own fluids for hours until they came back and started all over again. This was the pattern for seventy-two hours, which is how long my heats last.”

Callisto closes his eyes for a moment and his chest heaves. The courtroom stays deathly silent. My lawyer collects himself quickly, but I can hear the pain in his voice. “Ms Jones, you said you go into heat every two months. Are you saying that six times a year, this man tied you down and raped you nonstop for three days?”

The opposing lawyer calls out an objection to the wordraped, but his voice sounds far away. The courtroom closes in,threatening to lock me back in that tiny room. What if escaping and finding my alphas was only a wonderful dream, and I wake up to find myself naked, tied down, and sputtering in froth and saliva? That same sensation of drowning in my own fluids chokes me now. I gasp for breath, dropping my head to shield my eyes from the bright lights.

Heat and chills alternate under my skin as past and present realities tangle. The only times I ever saw Ray were during my heats, so it makes no sense to meet him any other time and place. Fever flushes through my body, and I can’t tell if it’s phantom or real.

Ray’s displeasure radiates across the narrow space between us. Whenever Ray got upset, he’d hit me, or edge me more, or threaten to hurt the other omegas. The time I bit the bottom of his earlobe off, he denied me a knot for the rest of the day, swearing and punishing me as he fucked me dry. I shudder. An angry Ray means trouble for me.

I glance toward him, and the look on his face spears through my chest with cold clarity. He loves the fact he’s having this effect on me. He wants to control me forever, like an ownership seal branded on my body and soul. I’ll never escape his grasp.

“Red?” a soft voice calls nearby. I turn to find Rickon on the step into the witness box, his loving gaze glimmering with concern. As promised, my alpha recognized when I reached my limit.

I draw my jagged senses together with a shuddering breath. I need a way to distinguish between past and present. “Can I have your shirt?” I whisper.

He strips it off without hesitation and drapes it around me. His soothing vanilla scent, mingled with traces of Zack’s thick malted barley, surrounds me, and I can breathe again.

My alpha’s hand brushes my waist, catching on the corset laces in a silent reminder. He’s holding me together.

“I’ll be okay now,” I murmur.

Instead of fear, I’ll cling to the anger that rose every time I faced Ray. I’ll hold on to the feeling of freedom from when I first walked down a Laversham street on my own. And I’ll grasp onto the scent of my true alphas, who help me rise above what I used to be.

I’m an actress, but I’m also something more. I’m Red Jones, a beloved omega.

My breathing evens out as Rickon walks back to his seat. With Zack’s unrestrained scent surrounding my face, I can’t even smell the licorice stench anymore.

Callisto looks like he might be about to sob. In fact, I think he sneakily wipes away a few tears. I manage a wobbly smile to reassure us both. “I can continue now.”

And I mean it. Not just in this courtroom, but in my life. It’s like I’ve shed my chrysalis and I’m ready to emerge.

Callisto asks me a few more questions that stress the grievous nature of the crimes. Did I give consent? No. Was I offered any alternatives to go through my heat? No. Did I resist? Yes.

Then he steps back. “No further questions.” He holds my gaze with a silent promise. The worst is yet to come, but he believes in me.

The tall, sleek lawyer takes Callisto’s place on the floor. “Ms Jones, do you know what a heat fever is?”

“Well, as an omega, I think I know a bit more about it than, say, an alpha,” I reply glibly, making a few people in the audience smile.

He adopts a tolerant smile. “Yes, I’m sure you’re familiar with it, but are you aware that heat fevers can be fatal?”

I shrug. “The staff at the Omega Center said it can be, for some omegas.”

“So, knowing that, would you agree it’s possible you might have died without intervention from an alpha during your heats?”

“No, that’s not true.” I clench my fists on my lap. “Since my rescue, I’ve gone through two heats on my own, with no alphas in the room. If the traffickers just wanted to take my haze, they could’ve sedated me or even used a fancy forgetting-type drug. No, Ray enjoyed humiliating and degrading me with an act no upright person could consider lifesaving.”

“Well, that’s clearly a biased opinion on the subject, not a medical one.” The lawyer’s face shutters in annoyance. “You told the court earlier that you never gave consent for these interactions, but according to my client, you begged for his help.”

I snort. “That’s funny, considering your original story stated he just happened to be at the trafficking hub that day, right? Ray came every two months for my heats, and no, I didn’t beg for his help. I begged him to leave me alone, to stop, and to get lost. He never listened.”

The lawyer’s mouth pinches in and he darts a glance toward the judge. “Ms Jones, I want to remind you that you’re under oath to tell the truth. Lying here could make you liable for charges of contempt of court. Are you sure you never said things like ‘please, Ray’?”

I tilt my head. It’s no surprise they want to trap me over this detail. When things get dicey here, they’ll come after me about supposedly liking it rough next.

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