Page 16 of Sidone

“I’m not hungry.” I walk into the bedroom and slam the door, then turn the lock, a clear sign nobody should be coming in unless they wanna get chewed up.

I hear the front door close.

It happens in an instant. My knees fold, my body locks, and I face-plant on the carpet. Groaning inwardly, I assess my body. I can move my extremities but not my middle. My spine hurts so bad, I could cry. I can’t cry. Alphas don’t produce tears. Transition, an event where a bonded Alpha sheds green armor in favor of red armor, has come upon me. It’s a good thing the Omega can’t see me like this.

* * *

Kade

At breakfast, people treat me like some sort of celebrity. Either that or they’re scared of me. Well, not me but my Alpha, who just happens to be a grump in the morning. The buffet is adequate, but nothing I’d write about in my cooking diary. With bacon, eggs, and two slices of toast on my plate, I snag the last of the orange juice and find a table on the patio to enjoy the view.

Endless blue Pacific with gentle waves. Sunny with no chance of rain. I love my city. There’s nothing else like it in the States. The beach, the weather, the people, all of it. Crunching bacon, I dip my toast in the yolk of my sunny-side-up eggs.

A pair of men are approaching the restaurant from the beach, one with receding white hair, blue eyes and… He looks familiar. An older woman points at the man, and the man smiles and waves. Why yes, I think it’s the former vice president. Wow, I didn’t think this guy was still alive.

When the Horde invaded, I was too busy playing minor league baseball to notice when my parents divorced, when Dad started going to church regularly, praying the pair of us made it, or when the White House fell and the chaos that resulted from it. Dad shielded me from the worst, and the imposed Silence hid most of the bloodshed shown on television.

The former VP climbs the wooden steps and enters the hotel from the restaurant’s deck. I follow him inside the restaurant and get a second serving, fruit and desserts this time, while I wait for Sidone. After seventy-two hours of fucking, we didn’t part on good terms this morning, and I wonder if she’ll join me at all.

* * *

Sidone

My brain issues commands, but my body can’t obey. As it dries, my armor crusts, and I shed, leaving my body exposed in all the soft places and also my thighs. My brother Vemlox’s red armor also covers his soft places and not all of his body. I think I’ll turn out the same way. It’s a good thing I locked the room. My Omega won’t see me helpless and weak, lying on the floor.

Though I’m unsure what his reaction will be when he returns from breakfast, if he returns at all. When challenged, I admit I can be unyielding, sometimes even when I’m wrong. Silence doesn’t bother me. It plays in favor of my people, and I stand by my king and prince on this issue, but I also know humans favor tech, as do the Teleans. Not all tech is bad. There are some nice things about it, like perhaps my Omega’s coffeemaker. It makes my Omega happy to drink the stupid morning brew, and I should’ve probably just kept my mouth shut.

I won’t change for him, but I can learn to yield him the small stuff. He has needs too. He wants to do nice things for me, and I ought to let him. Resolved, I try to get up and grunt, frustrated I can’t stand. But I can crawl. I’d rather stay down than crawl. I’ve crawled enough in the past. Never again.

How long will the transition last? I recall Vemlox’s transition took a bit over a span. By next sunrise, I should have red armor.

Relax and rest it is, then. The irony doesn’t escape me.

Serpent’s balls, I hate stillness.

The front door clicks, and footsteps enter. More than one pair. My Omega brought company. I’m not in the mood for people, of Regha or of Earth. My earflaps snap up. This is a reflex response. My ears always listen; it’s just my fucking eyelids that I can’t lift, though I try and try, willing them to open. Nope. Can’t do.Rest, Sidone. You can’t control the transition.

The bedroom door handle jerks, and I wait for my Omega to call out. Instead, the door slams against the wall with a loud bang. I smell him before I hear him. Fear seizes my thoughts, and a shiver runs down my spine. A strange feeling. I’ve never had shivers.

Mr. VP moves stray hairs away from my face, his touch gentle. “There you are, my pretty girl,” he coos. “You’re most beautiful when you’re down, quiet like a lamb.” He chuckles and stands back up. I can’t see him, but I hear well and smell even better. I don’t need eyes. In captivity, he kept me in the dark. While breaking me, he taught me how to see with my other senses. One day, maybe even today, when I take his life, I’ll try to remember to thank him for it.

“Hurry up before the guy returns,” he orders the men he brought with him.

Panic makes my heart race. I moan, cursing this bastard. They know about my Omega. They better not touch him!

The men reek of expensive cologne, strong citrus and lavender. The scents make my stomach rise. I swallow and prevent vomiting in my mouth as they try to pick me up. Their grunts make me smile. Inwardly, of course. I can’t twitch my lips. I am an Alpha female, heavy boned on a normal day. Today, I’m extra heavy and also difficult to carry as my body is locked in a spasm. This means they can’t just throw me over their shoulders, they have to pick me up by my arms and legs.

Two men carry me.

I would rather die than become VP’s captive again.

But here I am. Yet again.

Gunshots sound in the room. The men drop me, and I hit the floor. My brain rattles. I smell my Omega and want to crawl out of my skin. I fist my hands. Only two of my fingers move.

More gunshots.

A rough hand grabs my elbow and starts dragging me across the carpet. The rug burns my sensitive skin. The man lifts me into a sitting position and forces my back against the wall. I sniff out blood. It’s difficult to sort the smells in the room, and I can’t tell who’s bleeding. There are at least five men with their cologne, sweat, blood, and other smelly human waste. I can’t tell which of them is with me. “Stay put,” my Omega says.

---