Page 2 of Knotted By the Demon
I didn’t reply. If I did, I would’ve told her that I was thankful they wore mouthpieces when they rutted me to prevent themselves from officially claiming me. I already had to suffer their touch. I didn’t want to wear their bites on my neck, proof that they owned me.
“Ignore me all you want. But if you don’t prove yourself useful soon, you’ll be sold to traffickers once the pack leaders find a new omega at the auction next month,” Kimmy taunted. “And you’ll be worth more to them if you’re unclaimed. Alphas like to be the first to bite their prey. But I’m sure you won’t make it to the auction block. A pretty omega like you would neversurvive the traffickers’ abuse. Trust me, I know. I’ve seen what they do to your kind. It’s not pretty.”
My eyes snapped open, widening as her words sank in.Traffickers. Auction block.Death would be a welcome reprieve right about now. If I asked nicely, could I convince Kimmy to end my pitiful existence? Perhaps if I made her angry enough, she’d do it on her own.Hmmm....No. Death wasn’t in the cards just yet.
No matter how much I provoked her, Kimmy would never kill me. She’d beat me. She’d berate me. But she wouldn’t end me. She wouldn't risk displeasing the alpha twins. They held her fate in their hands just as much as they held mine. She continued spouting off about the auction, her voice a constant, grating noise in the background.
I tried to tune her out, curling tighter in the corner of my cage, making myself as small as possible. The fresh bruises on my body ached with every movement. Therefore, I tried to remain still as one word kept drifting through my head.Auction. The word rolled around in my mind like a curse.
Being sold to traffickers might be better than living here, but the truth was, I didn’t know what awaited me outside these walls. It had been years since I’d been away from the compound. But I heard the rumors of the rogue alphas in these parts and how dangerous they were. If I was auctioned off, I could end up with some of those brutes.
A new pack could treat me worse than my current alphas. That’s if I survived my time with the traffickers. The horror stories I'd heard of them were enough to give my nightmares, nightmares. Kimmy continued to degrade me, her words blurring into a hum. I closed my eyes and retreated into my mind, imagining a different life – a life free of pain, a life with a bond that was totally different from the one I’d been forced into.
In my perfect bond, I was cherished and loved, like the omegas of old. Before the Omega Plague ravaged our world and forever altered the delicate balance between alphas, betas, and omegas, our kind was respected and valued. Now, we were little more than commodities – kidnapped, captured, sold, and abused.
But in the old days, omegas were cherished and protected, valued for our rare healing gifts and the vital role we played in ensuring the continuity of our species. Alphas and betas alike treated us with reverence and respect, understanding that our well-being was inextricably tied to the well-being of all.
But the virus changed everything. It decimated our already small numbers, wiping out half of the global omega population in a matter of months. And those who survived were left forever altered, our biology irrevocably changed. According to some theories, that was when some omegas became catalysts.
But we weren’t the only ones who changed. The same was true of alphas and betas. The plague rewrote the very fabric of all of our beings, blurring the lines that had once been so clearly defined and creating secondary designations in some that a catalyst like me could trigger. Then, there were the reproductive changes.
In the old days, alphas couldn’t impregnate betas. Neither could omegas. Betas could only get pregnant by other betas and give birth to more betas, which is why betas have always been the majority. Now, post-plague, alphas could impregnate betas, and omegas could bear children with either alphas or betas.
But the offspring of beta-alpha or beta-omega unions would always be either betas or alphas. Never omegas. It took an alpha-omega or omega-omega union to produce an omega. The Council's solution to the loss of so many omegas to the plague wasn’t to protect and cherish those left. No, the Council sought to control us.
They claimed it was for our protection, that the new laws and restrictions were designed to keep us safe in a world turned upside down. But the truth was far more insidious. The Council wanted to breed us like livestock, to treat us as commodities to be bought, sold, and traded at their whim.
They stripped away our rights and our very humanity. We weren't people to them. We were resources to be exploited. Omegas were forced to register with the Council, our lives and fates no longer our own. We couldn't live independently, hold jobs, or make any choices for ourselves.
Instead, we were placed in the homes of alphas who wanted to start families, treated more like pets than partners. The lucky ones ended up with kind alphas who saw them as more than breeding stock. But far too many were not so fortunate. And then there were the omegas like me, the broken ones, the useless ones.
The ones who couldn't perform the one function that gave our lives value in this twisted new world order. I was defective, incapable of fathering the children that were so desperately needed to ensure the survival of our kind. And because of that, I was less than worthless to my alphas.
They would keep me around for a while longer until they'd wrung every last bit of sadistic pleasure from my suffering. Once they tired of me, once they'd used me up and broken me down, I would be discarded like trash. Sold off to the highest bidder, most likely to endure even worse horrors as some affluent alpha's plaything or a rogue alpha’s chew toy.
To avoid thinking about that dark future, I retreated into my fantasy world. That was where I found peace. It was where I dreamed of an alpha who could love and protect me despite my many flaws. But only one alpha. I didn’t want to be part of a large pack. One alpha and one beta were all I wanted in my dream pack.
Alphas and omegas were needy and driven by their emotions. Betas were level-headed and provided balance and emotional stability to a pack. I dreamed of a beta who would be my friend – someone to watch movies with and tease our alpha together. In my fantasy, I wasn’t broken, shy, or afraid to voice my opinions and speak my mind.
In my fantasies, my voice mattered. My feelings mattered.I mattered. My fantasy bond didn’t care that I couldn’t father a child. They loved me for me and only me. However, deep down, I knew that was just a fantasy.
The harsh reality was that I would never find such a bond. I wasn’t sure I even deserved such a bond. Kimmy’s loud curses pulled me out of my thoughts. Why was she still here? She’d dropped off the food. She could leave now.
“What the fuck is going on up there,” she snapped.
I glanced over my shoulder to find her gaze on the staircase. I listened carefully, finally hearing what she was hearing. A ruckus was brewing upstairs. Screams could be heard overhead, and they were growing louder. My heart raced as the sounds of shouting and chaos grew louder. A gunshot rang out, making me flinch. Kimmy’s gaze met mine.
The fear I was feeling was reflected in her dark, tired eyes. She rushed away from my cell, the door swinging open in her wake. Not only had she forgotten to lock it, but she’d forgotten to close it. I stared at the open door, my thoughts churning as Kimmy rushed up the basement stairs, leaving me alone, cell unlocked.
Was this my chance at freedom? Could it be as simple as just stepping through the open door? The chaos upstairs continued, more gunshots ringing out. Screams and wails of pain filled the air, the sound of a battle raging above. I hesitated, fear freezing me in place. What if I was caught? The punishment would be severe. But if I stayed, my fate was certain. I’d be sold.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to move.
CHAPTER TWO
GREEK
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