Page 12 of Feral Omega

My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat. I swallow hard, fighting the sudden urge to vomit.

We reach the showers, the familiar stench of bleach and mildew assaulting my nostrils. Two burly guards flank the entrance, hoses at the ready. Their leering grins send shivers down my spine.

"Strip," Emilia commands, shoving me forward.

When I hesitate, frozen in place by fear and humiliation, she nods to the guards. They advance, hoses raised threateningly. I quickly shed my thin shift, letting it pool at my feet.

"That's better," Emilia coos, her tone mockingly sweet. "We can't send you to your new masters all filthy, can we? Although I'm sure they'd love to get their hands on you, dirt and all. Alphas do so enjoy breaking in a new toy."

The water hits me like ice needles, so cold it steals my breath. I gasp, stumbling under the harsh spray. They hose me down like an animal, the pressure bruising my skin, leaving angry red marks in its wake.

"Can't risk putting you in a proper bath," Emilia sneers over the rush of water. "Not after what happened to that poor Nightingale. Nearly drowned her, didn't you, you little savage?"

I remember the incident with grim satisfaction. The foolish beta had tried to force my head under the water, thinking to "cleanse" me of my defiance. I'd nearly drowned her before they pulled me off, my hands locked around her throat, squeezing the life out of her.

"I wonder if you'll try the same with your new alphas," Emilia muses, watching as I sputter and gasp under the onslaught. "I'd pay good money to see that. But I doubt you'd survive the attempt. The Ghosts aren't known for their patience or mercy."

As they finally shut off the hoses, I stand shivering, teeth chattering, arms wrapped around my bruised body. Emilia throws a coarse towel at me, the rough fabric scraping against my tender skin.

"Dry off and get dressed," she says, tossing a bundle of clothes at my feet. "Can't have you meeting your new masters naked. Well, not yet anyway." She cackles at her own joke, the sound grating on my nerves.

As I pull on the simple dress and shoes, Emilia's words echo in my head.

Masters.

Savages.

Killers.

My hands tremble as I fasten the buttons, images of blood and violence flashing through my mind. I've endured so much, fought so hard to keep my spirit unbroken. But this...

This might finally shatter me.

I won't let them see my fear. Won't give them the satisfaction.

But inside, I'm screaming.

Chapter

Six

THANE

The solid metal reinforced doors of the Refinement Center groan as I push them open. Sunlight spills in behind me, my broad shadow stretching long across the polished marble floor. I step inside, breathing in the mix of lavender polish and something else.

The intoxicating scent of omegas.

Glad I came alone. Whiskey would already be panting like a dog straining at his leash. And Wraith... no telling how he'd react, surrounded by this many omegas when I'm all but certain he's never even encountered one.

Talk about a bull in a china shop situation.

As my eyes adjust to the dimmer light, I take in my surroundings. Gothic arches soar overhead, dark wood paneling lining the walls. Lush woven rugs muffle my footsteps. More like a damn mansion than any school I've seen.

Omegas in crisp grey uniforms scurry to and fro, darting glances my way—some curious, some wary, a few brazenly appraising. I keep my face impassive behind my skull mask, but their combined scent is like a drug, clouding my thoughts. I shake my head roughly.

Focus, damn it.

A severe-looking woman who smells like a beta approaches, her heels clicking sharply, gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looks me up and down, pursing her thin lips.

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