Page 1 of Knotted By the Demon
CHAPTER ONE
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Some feared death. Not me. A grave would be a welcome reprieve from my current state. To me, death would be beautiful. In death, there would be no more pain, no more hunger, no more fear, no more tears. In death, I would find peace. Yet, achieving death was just beyond my reach. It was something I couldn’t bring myself to accomplish on my own. I’d tried.
I always chickened out. And later, I hated myself for being too afraid to find peace. And because I couldn’t do what needed to be done, I remained trapped in the cold, damp, smelly basement that had become my prison. Every corner of my cage seemed to mock me, a constant reminder of my failures.
Bruises marred my body, a grotesque painting of bluish, purple, and yellow hues against my pale skin. Dirt clung to me like a second skin, a filth I could never fully scrub away, no matter how hard I tried. My stomach cramped painfully, gnawing hunger a constant companion. The stale bread and watery soup that was always brought down to me around this time would do nothing to alleviate the relentless pangs.
The sudden bang of the door leading to the basement slamming against the wall made me flinch violently, my heart leaping into my throat. Someone was coming. Warning bellswent off in my head as icy fear gripped my heart in a vise, squeezing until black spots danced before my eyes.
I wanted nothing more than to pass out so I didn't have to be awake for what might happen next. What would they want from me this time? Would they use me in front of the pack while the others watched and jacked off? Or would they plow me full of aphrodisiacs and use my slick to make one of their betas susceptible to their knots?
Both thoughts left me feeling disgusted, close to vomiting. A little of my choking fear dissipated at the sound of soft footsteps descending the stairs. The maid's footsteps were light, sweeping across the floor because she had a habit of dragging her feet. I was pathetically happy to hear that sweeping sound instead of the loud stomps that indicated the alpha was approaching.
Huddled in the corner, I turned to look behind me, wary. Kimmy approached, her white tattered dress so threadbare it revealed more than it concealed. Hatred flared in my chest at the sight of her, hot and acidic, before I ruthlessly tamped it down. I tried not to despise her too much. She was just as trapped here as I was, a pawn in the alphas' cruel games.
Hurt people, hurt people. She hurt me because the alphas in the pack hurt her. It was an endless, vicious cycle of abuse, and I was at the very bottom of the totem pole. The worthless one. The beautiful omega with the sweet scent who didn’t enjoy sex unless he was out of his mind with the heat fever.
An omega who was even rarer than most because he was acatalyst, an omega who could trigger a designation change in those who had secondary designation traits. But he was broken and had only triggered a change once when he was eighteen, but never again. However, they kept him around as a trophy, polishing him and dressing him up when they wanted to show him off.
"Useless," Kimmy sneered as she unlocked my cell door with a harsh clang.
Her cold brown eyes raked over my huddled form with undisguised disdain. I lowered my gaze to the grimy floor, knowing she detested it when I stared at her for too long. She utterly loathed my silver eyes, claiming they were unnatural, a freak's eyes, even for an omega. Numerous times, she’d told me that my long, pale blonde hair was wasted on someone like me.
She had no idea that I’d much rather have her plain face, short brown hair, and even her designation as a beta. Her jealousy made her behave like a viper toward me, not realizing that I’d do anything to change places with her. She unlocked and opened the cage door. Then, with a careless flick of her wrist, Kimmy shoved a plate across the cell floor toward me.
It skidded and wobbled, splattering most of its meager contents. I still hadn't finished yesterday's unappetizing offering, the scraps now congealed and swarming with flies. Yet here she was again at lunchtime with the same revolting dish. My stomach churned at the sight, hunger pangs warring with nausea.
I'd managed to choke down the breakfast I'd been brought hours ago: stale toast and a single slice of bologna. It was ambrosia compared to the foul, watery soups they brought me for lunch. Dinner would be comprised of the alpha's leftovers, which I would undoubtedly refuse to eat.
The alpha had a repulsive habit of defiling my dinner to assert his dominance and remind me of my place. Once he finished eating, he would jack off onto his plate before having the leftovers delivered to my cell. Feeding me his cum was just one of the many degrading ways he reinforced that I was nothing more than his property, a receptacle for his basest urges.
I stared at the watery soup, most of which had sloshed onto the floor when the maid slid it across to me. Lumpy andunappealing, it would undoubtedly taste like salty, flavorless dishwater. And yeah, I knew what dishwater tasted like, thanks to Kimmy. The mere thought of putting the alpha’s leftovers in my mouth made me gag.
I knew I should choke down this soup to stave off the gnawing hunger that would surely grip me when the alpha's dinner scraps arrived. The maid scrutinized my untouched meal from the previous day with obvious irritation.
"You didn't even eat yesterday's lunch," Kimmy pointed out snidely, her upper lip curling as she leaned against the open cell door. "I swear, you're nothing but a waste of space and resources. We're squandering food by keeping you alive. And for what? You can’t even get Alpha Natalie pregnant, no matter how many times shelocksyou.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about Natalie or the things she’d done to me.
“And you triggered Sara’s omega gene years ago, making her an omega a few days out of the year. Yet, whether she’s beta or an omega, she can’t get pregnant by you or Alpha Nathan.”
I hadn’t tried to trigger her. I hadn’t even known I was a catalyst. But the first night the alphas forced the two of us together, something strange happened. After a little kissing and touching, her scent had changed from a faint floral scent that was much better than Kimmy’s sour musk, to something almost as sweet as mine. Then slick had dripped from her as she’d gone into a heat, something beta’s couldn’t do. That’s when the alphas and I learned what I was.
“You triggering her was pointless, just like you.” Kimmy sneered. “You’re useless to your bond.”
I flinched at the casual cruelty in her bitter voice, each word a barb piercing my skin.Bond?I nearly laughed at the absurdity of her words. I had no bond. I’d never been registered to any bond. Officially, I was an unregistered and unclaimed omega. I’d beentaken at a young age and groomed by the previous alpha to be part of his son and daughter’s bond.
I despised the alpha twins, Natalie and Nathan. Both used me. Both hurt me. It was the beta in their bond who was kind to me. The one I’d triggered by mistake. But even her kindness only extended to slight smiles and looks of pity. Like me, she was trapped in this nightmare, a helpless prisoner forced to play her role in the alpha twins' sick bond.
I knew the twins had done unspeakable things to break her, to mold her into the obedient, submissive beta they wanted. So, while she never participated in my torment, she was powerless to stop it. We were both ensnared in this web of abuse and suffering, two insignificant, disposable playthings for our alpha masters.
The twins had choked her so badly one night, years ago, that she’d lost the ability to speak. They’d done it so she wouldn’t complain about how she was treated nor reveal to anyone that she’d been triggered. The little beta and part-time omega pitied me, but I pitied her more. I could still speak, though I rarely did. Remaining quiet was safer.
“Have you never wondered why they haven’t given you their claiming bite?” Kimmy snapped.
