Page 6 of Mating the Omega
I tried once to escape, after we’d been walking a good fifteen minutes and Red’s grip had loosened slightly—absolutely the wrong idea. I ended up squashed between the damp spring ground, and Red’s very solid bulk, with the evidence of Red’s interest poking me in the ass. I immediately gave up on my pointless squirming and went as still as stone. More than one omega had been forcibly mated, and I didn’t want to find myself being faithful unto death to some random stranger who took me against my will. I knew that would be my eventual fate, but I wanted at least achanceat a life that didn’t completely erase me.
My standards for a decent life had fallen pretty far in the past couple of months.
He seemed to take my stillness for submission, which I suppose it was. A few moments after I stopped moving, he got up and pulled me to my feet. “Don’t try that again or I’ll tie you up and carry you back like prey. Unless that’s something you’d like.”
No, I wouldn’t like that. Tied up was definitely not the way I wanted to travel.
He must have been expecting a response, because he grabbed my hair and shook me, though not roughly. More to get my attention. “Answer me. How are we going to do this?”
I swallowed so hard it hurt. “I’ll walk.”
He transferred his hold from my hair to my arm. “Good.” A tug forward sent me stumbling along beside him, three steps of mine to every two of his. He really was tall. But he was careful not to strain my shoulder, which I hoped boded well for later treatment. Dark followed behind us, and I could feel it in the hairs on the back of my neck that he was watching my every move, waiting for some sign that I was going to make a break for it.
The omega magic had had time to do its work—they were much gentler with me now than they had been when they first found me. I wondered if their boss would be as reasonable, or could be…encouraged to be. I wondered how I could get the whole story on Abel Mercy Hills. And, finally, I wondered if one of these guys might do just as well as a way to keep Orvin off my ass. Not that I could be certain that they were any better, but so far my worst with them was better than my best with Orvin. At least with these guys, I’d done something first before they started manhandling me.
And that made me wonder if Orvin was the exception, or the norm.
I filed that thought away for later perusal. We were coming up a long, low building with floodlights all around it filling the night with light. They were so bright I couldn’t see past them, and the building rose up out of its halo of light like the lone sign of civilization left in the world. As we approached the door, it opened, another huge man standing in the opening, half silhouetted in the warm light behind him, the floods throwing highlights across his face.
They must breed them that way.I snickered to myself at the idea, mild hysteria, then sobered. Maybe that’s what they did, which led to other unpleasant thoughts, and my feet began to drag.
“Are you thinking about running again?” Red asked.
The closer we got, the more reluctance I felt. Without conscious thought, I slowed my pace even more, only to be jerked stumbling forward again by Red.
“Stop shuffling.” And then we were at the door.
The man in the opening looked me up and down. “This is the feral?”
A wave of outrage washed over me.I’m no feral!
It must have shown on my face, because the man grinned. “He doesn’t like being called that. Well, bring him in and let’s figure out what to do with him.”
That put an end to the outrage—they could call me what they wanted, as long as they didn’t hurt me.
Doorguy scratched the neat beard that covered his jaw and stepped out of the way. “I’ll take over, Duke. I need something to break the monotony.”
Dark nodded and disappeared around a corner of the hallway. Red dragged me in through the door and Doorguy closed it behind us. I heard the thunk of the deadbolt being turned and fear squeezed my heart so tightly I nearly forgot how to breathe.
I was trapped.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MacKenzie led the feral into the interview room and pushed him down into one of the chairs. The feral didn’t want to go, it was obvious, but Mac could smell the fear on him. And there was that scent, that almost-omega smell that both attracted Mac physically and repelled him mentally. Mac didn’t like the way omegas were treated and he didn’t blame the young man one bit for being frightened if that’s what had been happening to him, simply because of some slight resemblance in his scent.
The pseudo-omega sat straight-backed in his seat—Mac could tell he had some pride, despite the acrid fear-smell. That had to be a hard thing to maintain as an omega, or someone perceived as an omega.Poor kid.Mac backed away and leaned against the wall, partly to see if it made the young man more comfortable, and partly to get away from his scent and the effect it was having on him.
Abel sat down across the table from the omega. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where you come from and why you were climbing over our walls instead of coming through the front door like any honest shifter would do?”
Mac nearly laughed. He already knew the little omega had pride, and apparently he also had a temper, if the way his jaw tightened and his head dipped was any indication. Mac decided to add his own two cents and see what would happen. “He’s right. You should have applied through your pack to come visit. Only thieves come in over the wall.”
The young omega threw him a baleful glare and replied through gritted teeth, “I don’t have any papers. And I don’t have a pack.”
“Everyone has a pack,” Abel said.
“I don’t.”
Silence.
