Saved and Savaged

Chapter 3 - Keziah

Grit glues my eyelids together, but after a few attempts, my lashes lift. The dim lighting prevents me from making out details, but as I struggle to sit up, horror clenches my stomach. The moment I settle my weight on my butt, I fight the urge to vomit.

I lay amidst other bodies, arms and legs spread at odd angles as though we've been dumped without a care.

The world shifts, causing my butt to slide along the floor. I scramble for purchase, but the shoulders I grab slide with me.

My feet bump against a solid surface, so I use them as a brace, looking around to get my bearings.

The smooth, hard floor rumbles and the metal walls shake, and even though I've never been in a transporter before, I know that's what this is. The color of the walls matches the vehicles I've seen rolling through the market roads, and the metal grating at the far end looks like the back of the space where the driver sits. The rumbling must be the ground flying by underneath us, moving much faster than any human can.

A groan pulls my attention to the woman beside me. She clutches her head as she drags herself into a sitting position.

My sense of smell snaps into overdrive, and I swallow the dread building in my throat. The pile of sleeping bodies I sit amidst are females. Most have distinct omega markers, while others remain on the cusp of revealing their dynamic.

Others stir. As I fight dizziness, I push myself up and climb onto the bench my feet press against.

My brain clicks into place, a weird wave of understanding passing through me as though whatever drugs they poured into my veins drains out of my toes and sinks into the floorboards.

My father sold me to alphas. He sent me away from the family I love, and here I am in a metal box full of strangers on the way to a place I've never been.

Hysteria tries to break into my thoughts, but another low moan brings my attention to my surroundings, locking me in the present. I lean down and grab the woman's shoulders, giving her a small shake. The dazed expression leaves her face in the same sudden way the fog left my brain. She tenses under my hands, but I press a finger to my lips and urge her to be quiet.

My instincts demand we do everything we can to remain ignored.

Her dirty hands lift to cover her mouth, tears gathering on her lashes as she takes in our surroundings.

More women wake, some sobbing before they even open their eyes. A cloud of morose dread fills the space, making me fight back my own tears. The youngest, who can't be older than fifteen, uses the wall to stand. Faint light from the front of the transporter illuminates her face. As she realizes her terror, her mouth opens to scream, so I dart toward her and wrap her in my arms. She trembles against me but returns the embrace, tucking her head against my chest.

She barely stands taller than Sienna. My heart threatens to crack in two.

I have no way of comforting these women. Brown skin and dark hair mingle with lighter shades of copper, yet everyone around me holds the distinct lean frame of those from Gotawe, the years of malnutrition and hard labor stealing away our softness.

As omegas, our worst fear has come to pass.

The vehicle screeches to a halt, jostling us against one another. All sounds cease as we freeze in place, most still seated on the floor, huddled together in the center of the transport.

Bright yellow sun breaks into the room, backlighting the gigantic alpha as he opens the back hatch until the door seems to disappear.

I push the younger omega behind me and turn to face the sun, knowing there's nothing I can do to prevent whatever this male has planned, but unable to cower in the corner when there are young ones to protect.

Thick digits wrap around my arm. I yank backward and drop my weight, only to be hauled forward. My foot flings out and connects with his stomach, his grunt followed by a growl.

Pain explodes along my jaw and arrows into my skull before my neck tweaks to the side, his backhand scrambling my brain.

"Quit struggling, bitch. No one move."

His scratchy voice makes bile rise into my throat, even though my stomach feels hollow since I missed my evening meal.

He grabs my ankle and hauls me to the edge of the floorboard, using his hold on my wrist to pivot me so my legs part around his hips.

"No!" I gasp as terror takes hold of me, my struggling futile against his greater strength. Another flash of pain steals my vision, his fist crashing into my cheek and causing my ears to ring.

He grabs my shoulders and thrusts his hips, grinding his hard length between my legs. I gag and push at his chest, unable to hold in the desperate sobs as he reaches down to open his belt.

The sun dims as an even larger frame steps up to my attacker's back.

"Trackers first, idiot."

I glimpse dull green eyes and sandy hair before the new arrival pushes my molester to the side and vaults into the transporter beside me.

The dark male above me snarls and grabs my breasts in a cruel grip.

"Make any noise, or resist in any way, and I'll beat, fuck, and knot you right here, where everyone can watch. Understand?"

I stare up into black eyes and nod, shaking so hard my thoughts refuse to form coherent sentences.

"Hear that, ladies? You fuck up, you get fucked. Now be good little whores and be quiet."

I lay frozen in pain and fear as the alpha above me releases my breasts and wraps his fist around my throat instead. He reaches for his belt again but pulls a device from a holster instead of unzipping his pants.

A scream rips from my throat when he slams the narrow part of the black metal thing onto my thigh. Flesh and muscle send signals of agony into my system as a thick needle pierces deep into my leg, burrowing so far I turn my head and wretch. Surely, I'll bleed out and die once he removes the device, my bone feeling bruised from his attack.

He yanks it free and smirks down at me, tightening his fingers around my throat before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"I like cramming things into you. Your scream makes me so hard I don't want to wait to fuck you."

"Quentin, we have a deadline."

I roll onto my side and shake after Quentin, the disgusting alpha in charge of my future, releases me to torture the next woman.

Screams and pleading fill the air, shredding my soul to pieces as they jab every single woman in the thigh. I know the reason behind their attack, but in the trauma of the moment, I can't find the answer. As pain and adrenaline course through me, I wrack my brain, my instincts insisting the information is important.

Boots stomp around me as the two males jump out of the transporter. I look beyond the vehicle for the first time and see nothing but sand and sky.

A massive fist wraps around my throat again, caging me with one movement.

"Don't worry, Keziah. Now, no matter where you go, I'll be able to find you. I can't wait to stuff you full of my seed."

He flings me deeper into the darkness, slamming the door closed and locking it with an ominous snick.

I start to break, the shaking in my limbs infecting my chest and working its way to my soul, but slim arms wrap around me from behind. By sheer force of will, I hold myself together, turning and wrapping my arms around the youngster.

My mind pushes away the horrors of the last few minutes, clearing my thoughts so I can focus on solving the purpose of their attack.

Trackers. They put trackers in our bodies. I know this beyond a doubt, have heard of males who embed foreign objects into their female's bodies so no one can steal them. One alpha even said the word trackers, didn't he?

Except we aren't stolen. We're bought and paid for.

There's no escape for us.