Page 1 of Captive Omega

Chapter 1

Resa

“She is a liability, sir. We need to end her,” O’Brien, head of security, warns my captor, Nathaniel Lang. “I can get it done cleanly. One bullet and?—”

“No. I paid good money for her.” Metal chinks and I envision the gray-haired alpha’s platinum watch sliding up his bony wrist. “Where is Rupert? I have to be at that gala in five minutes.”

Rupert.

Swallowing my panic, I send out a mental plea for Rupert to trip over his laces, his belt, a fucking rat, anything at all, so he tumbles head over ass down the stairs and never reaches my prison attic.

Nathaniel Lang is a member of Asylum, a club of wealthy alphas who deal in trading omegas. He calls me an appreciating asset, one he can sell for more than he paid. Omegas are rare, and in his eyes, a pregnant one is a case of buy one get one free.

But at the last auction, O’Brien grabbed me from my cell before Nathaniel could trade me, and we left so fast it’s clear something was wrong. Here I am two weeks later, flat on my back in a creaky camp bed, straining to hear through a metal door.

Bright moonlight reflects its shades through a pretty round stained window, like a faded rainbow. Outside this mold infested factory, a towering oak’s leaves gently sway, tempting me to freedom. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve considered making that jump. But it isn’t just me I’d have to worry about.

My fingers skim over the curve of my belly. Three months ago, my life changed in a way I never expected. Fatigue came first, sore breasts, and then I started throwing up.

It was clear what had happened.

I was pregnant.

When my heat didn’t come when it should have, my old alpha decided he had no use for a pregnant omega, so he sold me to Nathaniel Lang.

A floorboard creaks and Nathaniel’s irritation penetrates through the door. “Rupert, you were supposed to be here hours ago. Have you been drinking again?”

I briefly close my eyes, muttering a curse as I heave myself up to prepare for what’s coming. My long, dark brown hair, curlier at the ends than the roots, falls into my face and I tuck it behind my ear. It’s time for battle and going into it with it down is never a good idea, but no time to tie it back now. Not with what’s coming.

Rupert Lang, Nathaniel’s only child, likes to treat me like I’m his plaything. Nathaniel doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t permanently damage his appreciating asset.

His steps are so heavy, you’d think he would crash through the floorboards and into the factory below.

I really fucking wish he would.

Metal clinks as someone inserts a key into the lock, and the door creaks open.

Rupert, a drunk, failed attorney, stands in the doorway, swaying slightly. His face is red, dark hair disheveled, puffing from the five flights of stairs he just dragged himself up.

Hate bubbles in my veins, simmers in my gut, all acrid and sharp.

I keep my face expressionless as I swing my legs to the icy floor and push myself to my feet. My white cotton dress doesn’t come close to keeping me warm, but that’s okay. I’m used to the cold. I am not okay with the man stepping into my room.

Rupert’s cow-like brown eyes are stupid and slightly unfocused, a result of the whiskey I can smell from here.

He blinks at me like he’s struggling to remember why he’s here, or even where here is.

I hate all alphas, but I have a particular hatred for this slobbering beast.

He stumbles toward me, already fumbling for his belt. “On your knees, bitch,” he slurs.

The door slams shut and a key turns in the lock. Now Nathaniel is through with his weekly visit, he’s off to his fancy gala while his son spends the next fifteen minutes raping me.

I used to flinch at that harsh slam. Not anymore. Now I just prepare for battle. “No.”

Footsteps echo as they pound downstairs. I tune them out as Rupert tracks me, one stumbling step at a time, around the room. “You think I won’t put you down?”

I keep a close eye on his hands. It’s how I’ve avoided most of his blows in the past.

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