Page 9 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

"Hard not to. Council's making bank on those fights."

"Heard they pulled in three billion last quarter just from the Premium Matches."

Bitter laughs all around.

"Premium. That what we're calling death matches now?"

"Hey, rich alphas pay good money to watch omegas tear each other apart."

Bile rises.

Swallow it down.

Kill them, shadows whisper.Make them pay.

Not yet.

Not strong enough.

Keep listening.

"Fighting rings are nothing. You hear about the deep water programs?"

"The jewel retrievals? That's old news."

"Not the way they're doing it now. Using omegas as bait."

"What do you mean?"

"Chain an omega underwater. Wait for their distress pheromones to fill the water. Watch how fast those trained alphas learn to hold their breath."

"Jesus."

"Got recovery times down to three minutes. Alphas will do anything when they smell an omega in danger."

"That's fucked up."

"That's progress. Council's making a fortune selling those recovery teams to private collectors."

"How many omegas they lose?"

"Who keeps count?"

Want to scream.

Want to tear walls down.

Want to...

Door opens.

White coat enters.

Clipboard in hand.

Fresh needles on tray.

"Good morning, 495. Ready for today's trials?"

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