Unknown Omega

Chapter 12 - Seeck

Without allowing myself a backwards glance, I disappear into the building, leaving before any other teammates can approach me. I launch my body through a window opening, knowing that if I hesitate, I'll turn around and snatch her up again. My instincts demand I return to her and protect her. Shelter her. Consume her. But if I do that, I'll become weaker and fail my unit.

Knowing that I must not dwell on her sweet flavor, I pull out the hose attached to my water sack and suck in a mouthful of the rare resource. Swishing it around in my mouth, I tell myself to spit it onto the ground, but I can't. I greedily swallow it down, unable to lose any of her essence.

Damn it, I can't let my Alpha instincts ruin this mission.

The mission. Right. Damn, that's exactly the distraction I need.

I take another pull from the hose, then step off toward where I was going before she distracted me. I return the water spout to its pocket, holding the water on my tongue, willing her flavor to linger.

The further I walk from her, the stronger my urge to go back becomes.

With sheer force of will, I put up a mental shield and focus on gathering blood samples for our mission. I pull my head covering over my face, wincing at the pain in my skull and loosen my gait. Pretending I'm just another piece of scum roaming the streets, I turn into an alley containing a shifty group of males.

They look up together, but no one moves from their position. It's hot and getting up for no reason is a waste of energy.

"I'm here fer a ride," I say, hating the way my mouth moves over their strange dialect.

They all smirk, and all but one returns to their game of dice.

He stands with lazy movements, not wanting to leave his perch but eager to do business.

Without a word, he extends his hand and raises an eyebrow. I saunter over to him, and keeping alert, I pull a little bag of water out of my pocket and slosh the innards around.

He eyes the baggie and wiggles his fingers.

I hand it over, watching for any signs of a double cross.

He walks to a door and inserts a key. It's weird to see such a solid door, since there aren't many of them in these parts.

"Choose from any of 'em. Or all of 'em, I don't give a fuck. Ya got thirty minutes," he says, standing there with the bag of water near his face.

I step over the threshold and hold my breath. The smell of sickness and misery is so thick it feels like there isn't any oxygen in the room. Six females lay bound to stakes in the packed dirt flooring. Sand, dirt, bruises, and other injuries cover their naked bodies. The ground divots where they lay, like little bowls of disgust.

None of them are more than a week from death. They each carry a myriad of diseases and are so starved they may as well be skeletons.

My heart enters my throat and I wish I could scrub the sight away, but because of my training, I observe all information available and store it in my mental files.

They don't acknowledge my presence—so far gone that death would be favorable. This hellhole of abuse isn't killing them fast enough.

Seeing the worst treatment a female can go through after just meeting my lifemate firms my resolve.

I cannot have an Omega—I'm too broken, too hardened to treat her properly. I have too much experience of the world to be what she needs me to be. She already hates me, and for good reason.

I couldn't protect her from myself. I wasn't gentle with her—I let my instincts turn me into an uncontrollable monster. My needs superseded everything else. I forced her to give me what I wanted, even though she wasn't a willing participant. I held her down and devoured her until she had no choice but to give me her most intimate response.