Page 50 of Alpha Hunger

“If I may.”

“You may not.” I spin his chair so he’s facing me. “My unregistered Omega had ingested Betaren. She refuses to nest and didn’t quit her damn job even after I poured millions of human currency into her account. Imagine if I allow Omegas to run around cities and these people capture them. I will be none the wiser. Think a decade from now, what will happen if I allow Betaren manufacturing to continue? What’s next, a cure for the dynamic? The peace ends today, and I will reestablish the boundaries. The Omega dynamic is to flourish, register, and breed with whomever they chose, not feel as if they’re a disease, responsible for our invasion. We conquered out of desperation. You know it, and I know it, and my father damn well knew it or he wouldn’t have sent his only heir to Earth. I honor his promise to Regha people, the one where he said Reghans would survive and breed healthy Alphas and Omegas for eons to come. We cannot survive without human Omegas. It is all very clear and simple. Everyone who stands in my way shall die. Fear the Horde.”

“I see the banners already. The Dark Ages are upon us.”

“What are the Dark Ages? I like the sound of it.”

“You would,” Dreikx deadpans. “The Dark Ages was a period—”

“My Omega awaits.” I spin his chair around.

Dreikx reaches into the pocket of his tight bodysuit and pulls out a crystal. He places it into a slot on the pod’s helm. A hologram shows the space gate. The white swirls, picking up speed until it’s a blur. The black frame around the white starts pulsing. I cover my ears. An energy explosion rocks the pod, shattering a few windows.

It’s over in seconds. In the courtyard, the gate expands and grows to about twelve feet, a monstrous leech sucking energy from the tech around it. The gate remains in the yard while the controls remain with Dreikx. The Guardians surround the gate again, and everything appears normal.

Except the tech within the perimeter is down. We await confirmation, and it comes with Dreikx’s screen showing black. I release his chair.

He spins around and props an elbow on his dashboard. “Do you want to let me in on your plans?”

Dreikx is an interesting fellow. While his alliance has been proven over the span of many years to both me and my uncle Loven, who first recruited him for his cause, his loyalty to me is questionable. I believe he’s loyal to my father. Although my father and I are on the same side, I don’t need or want my father on Earth and in my business. If I tell Dreikx what I plan, I have a feeling, he’ll run off to Father, who’ll order him to erect the space gate for the Warlords’ return. I’m trying to avoid conflict on a larger scale. If I need my army, I will call on them. But first I will squash the rebellion the way the Horde does. Quietly, in Silence. Those who offend me won’t know we’re there until we’re standing inside their homes.

“Not at this time,” I tell Dreikx, then exit the pod, my gaze climbing the many flights of offices all the way to the top, where Anna stands at the window.

Five years ago, the human leaders agreed they would register Omegas in exchange for tech. Desperate for Omega females, I signed the peace treaty. The Teleans descended from Dreikx’s ship, harvested the space gate energy, and we have lived with an abundance of advanced technology. But the humans have dishonored their end of the bargain. They’re attempting to suppress Omega scent, the only way most of my males can identify the dynamic in humans.

I’m taking away the damn tech, thereby shutting down the banks which hold their money. They will have what they have until priorities are reestablished.

Chapter 18

Anna

The quake shook the building, and we lost power. I turn away from the window and walk to find Tamika, who isn’t at her desk. I tap my com unit and hear nothing.

“Alpha?”

“Yes, Omega.”

I turn. “Jesus! Scared the crap out of me.”

“That is my least favorite human expression. The image it evokes is unpleasant.”

“What’s going on?”

Raven casually strolls into his office, and I follow him to his desk. He picks up the desk and carries it out of the office. He returns and kicks the chair. It rolls out. He presses a hand to the opposite wall, which I could have sworn was simply a wall, but now I see it’s a door-wall thing made on Regha. Those don't require any tech. It slides open and reveals a pile of books, boxes, leathers, furs, and Viking-style weapons like axes no human could possibly lift and carry. Raven’s hoarding heaven.

I follow him into the space. Things are piled on top of each other all the way to the celling. “Wow.”

“Indeed,” he says and kicks a box. The kick prompts an avalanche of falling items, and I step outside. Raven stays as things fall on top of him.

Once the dust settles, I wiggle my nose. “What are we doing?” I ask.

“Remodeling.”

“I love new things.”

“These are old, Omega. But they’re coming back.” Raven digs into the pile and rattles out an unpleasant sound, probably the same one he uses just as he’s about to kill someone. He bends and grabs metal…handles and starts pulling, his back muscles straining. I get out of his way as he pulls out a large metal object covered with a white cloth and drags it to the window in place of his desk. Raven stands next to it, black eyes on me. “On Regha, Terror is called the Alpha Collector,” he says. “In the past, this meant that he collected Omegas and brought them into what we called an Omega compound. Now it means when it comes to Omega females, it is his sole responsibility to know where each and every one of them is at all times. You were unregistered.”

“We’ve gone over this. I refused to put a label on my forehead saying how I’m good only for breeding.”

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