Your Omegas Are Mine 1| Euodia's Sun | Omegaverse Apocalyptic Reverse Harem

44

"You wouldn't question your mate," she hissed, nails on the plate, tapping. "You don't trust me Zen, how can I trust you?" Euodia had rose, sweeping to go. "Perhaps you don't deserve me." The panic had boiled in his chest like wildfire, molten lava down his veins. He sank to the ground, crumbled heap, sobbing his apologies.

"Alpha, Alpha! Alpha, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The silent treatment went on for weeks. But he deserved it. The suffocation of her quiet around his throat was torture. And the pain that blossomed through his veins, red blood out of his mouth, felt even worse each day.

His chest was burning, knives in his throat, flames up his spine. There were always tears burning in his nose, sticky at the back of his throat. And his Alpha was always smiling, running her hands up his thinning naked body. The paleness of his skin was sickly, his eye bags grew only darker. And veins protruded from his flesh in dark purple and gold. They ran higher and around his limbs as if he were poisoned.

Euodia had him out on the battlefield.

Her smile was bright as he raised his hands and crushed the Omegas that ran their way. There was only destruction flavouring the air in the dust and the columns of smoke. She was smiling as he killed them all. Heads popped, and bodies crumpling into vapour. But Zen could only think of his six, the worry stinging in his chest. Each time before he killed, he took a moment to look for his friends.

They had tried to convince him, begged that he listened. They'd wiped his blood that burned their tender skin with soft touches, had nursed him the best they could. He knew his body hurt them worse than it hurt him, for blisters formed when they touched his blood. But they didn't seem to care about the danger he was to them.

A final kiss, and they were gone. Zen had been left alone and cold in the dark. He learned that night that they were rebels. And they promised, despite his vehement pleading, that they would save him from Euodia. Zen prayed they would never meet again. Not because he hated them for their betrayal, but because he didn't want to kill them.

He couldn't kill his six.

He could never hurt them.

It would be like hurting himself.

His ears were ringing now, his body was burning. A smirk was on her lips. The world was on fire, and she laughed. She seemed so ugly to him that he recoiled. And before him was his six, on their knees. They had been winning, should have won, but for him they were willing to barter, to negotiate despite knowing that Zen was Euodia's secret weapon. That they had all walked to their graves.

Euodia had smiled. They were screaming something and Zen in his weakness, had struggled to focus. There were tears in his eyes because he'd begged them not to come, and yet they did because they loved him.

"Don't hurt him, please! Don't do it!"

His eyes had watered at their words. Oh God, what had he done?

"Kill them Zen," she ordered.

And this time he faltered, could not lift a finger against his six. His six. His six. His friends. His family. His lovers—Choked laughter spilled from his lips. The poison was boiling water in his skin, pouring acid down his veins. And his refusal burned in his collar, light shining through his bones. The pills were supposed to turn him obedient, but Zen stood against its call.

She giggled, maniac and crazed. Her hands were around his throat he was gasping, whimpering, eyes teary with the betrayal. And he wondered then why he had loved her so dearly before. "It doesn't matter!" She raised her hands, a weapon in her grasp. "You're already dead anyway, and you'll kill them all for me—"