Page 7 of The Omega Trials: Part One

My breath comes in fast pants. When I raise my hand with the ring, it’s now my turn to laugh. The sound is rough and scratchy but victorious.

The man’s face twists as he looks at my raised hand. My middle finger has already doubled in size and is turning an ugly purple. It zigs unnaturally where I slammed it in the gate, making it impossible to take off the ring now.

“You want it?” I stare at him brazenly through the bars. “Come get it.”

It didn’t take long for me to end up back in chains.1

At the sound of my yell, two of Vincent’s guards came running to the basement and quickly wrestled me to the ground. They weren’t particularly big men, but I could tell by their strength they must be alphas. Fighting the two of them felt like fighting four normal men.

I huffed into the dirt, feeling it blow back and stick to my sweaty face. My hand trapped under me screamed in pain, and I thought I was going to pass out. I might as well have. The pain overrode almost everything, my memory of being dragged deeper into their underground prison just a blur.

I don’t know where I am, but I’m strung up, arms stretched wide. My heels dangle an inch from the ground, and the only thing taking the weight off my shoulders are my toes grazing the ground. There isn’t much slack in the chains, and my bare back scratches against the rough wall.

Unlike the previous part of the basement I was held in, there isn’t any electricity here, just a flickering wall torch.

It’s this fire that casts Vincent’s face with ghastly shadows as he enters. My stomach knots when I see the gratified smugness written across his features. One of the guards from before looms in the doorless archway that connects this dank room to the corridor. He stands with his feet wide and hands behind his back.

“It’s bad business to damage your own property, but seeing as you’ve already done that . . .” Vincent’s black eyes flash up to my swollen hand and a cruel smile plays on his lips. He laughs with a jovial shrug. “I don’t see why I can’t.”

Without taking his eyes off mine, he puts out his hand and the guard places a wide silver circle in it. Vincent holds it out in front of him as he takes a predatory step toward me.

“All my girls get the privilege of wearing this.” I swallow deeply, realizing it’s a crude collar. “It’s a reminder to everyone who visits these walls that they belong to me. Fuck with what belongs to me, andI’mthe one you’ll have to deal with.” His tone is threatening and matter-of-fact.

“And you, my darling”—he drags the cold metal along my cheek, and I fight the urge to wrench my head away—“have fucked with my property.”

He moves so fast, I don’t see it coming. In a quick, but no less powerful strike, he hits my injured hand with the collar.

“Ah!”I howl then grind my teeth together, forcing myself to contain the staggering pain. I hang my head to gather my composure, sucking down air through my nose.

Slowly, I raise my chin to find him watching me with a cocked head, as if he’s waiting to continue until he has my full attention. Smugly, he holds out his hand again and a heavy pair of blacksmith prongs are placed in it.

He uses them to grip the collar and hold it in the torch’s flame.

Despite the cool, damp air, even more sweat beads on my brow as my stomach plunges.

It doesn’t take long for the metal to glow an incandescent yellow. I’m going to be sick.

The guard passes him another set of prongs, and Vincent uses it to hinge the collar open. My heart beats faster than a hummingbird’s wings, and I forget how to breathe as he stalks toward me. I can feel the intense heat when it’s two feet away.

“And it seems you also need a reminder of who you belong to—”

All I know is glowing red and blazing agony before everything goes dark.

1. Play “In My Blood” by Tommee Profitt, Fleurie

Tribute

Titus

2months later

Here’s the thing about the Echelon: everything is a fucking mind game to them. They say they wear those tacky as fuck masks to protect their identities. Because technically, all noble-blooded alphas and omegas are legally required to take chemical suppressants to mitigate their superior biology that led to the aristocracy.

There may have once been the need for anonymity, but the Echelon is now powerful enough that they can get around any government mandate.

Members of the Echelon may no longerbethe official government, but the current regime is just as corrupt, and the Echelon holds more power than most citizens know.

If an unsuppressed Echelon member were discovered by the government, strings would be pulled, the issue would immediately disappear, and they could go on living their life free of fear or restriction. Meanwhile, I have to race out of fights, Ecker has to wear colored contacts, and we all have to go by a different last name because if we’re discovered, there’s no one to back us up. We’d be locked up and forcefully suppressed.

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