Page 24 of Petals and Strings
My stomach churned at the thought of my cell. The memories that had started to surface before Theo tried to sedate me now coming back, flooding through and chasing away the ones of my family.
Now that they were unleashed, they refused to be ignored.
Rough hands gripped at my skin, touching me, taking. My legs were wrenched apart and teeth sank into my chest.
My hand tightened around a weed, and I pulled hard enough to pop it out of the dirt and tossed it aside, using the task to ground me as the feelings washed over me. It kept me present as they hit, showing me what my brain had tried to protect me from.
The cell was cold and hard, no luxury outside a dirty, thin mattress that wasn’t fit for a dog. I wasn’t given showers, simply hosed down in my cell and having to scrub at the grime in the few seconds I had to wash them away.
It was also the only time my one dress was cleaned.
No undergarments… they’d only get in the way of our purpose. To be bred, taken, to produce children they whisked away.
Another weed, another tug, and a deep, desperate breath of fresh soil and air. The warm sunshine kept me here, the feeling of the slight breeze making me feel like my mind was split between reality and the past.
My cell creaked open but I was too weak to move. The last forced mating was brutal and not long enough had passed to heal.
Someone scoffed. Disgusted.
“This is the alpha who will command you, omega,” the stale coffee and cigar scented alpha said. His voice was even and calm, like he felt no shame for his actions. So, it was the other alpha who was disgusted.
Yet, he had paid to be here. To use me.
“She’ll be good for you,” my captor promised. To him, we were objects, possessions, ones that made him plenty of money.
His footsteps retreated, the cell door closing with a bang. It wasn’t locked, there was no need when I couldn’t fight back or escape.
“I paid a lot for you, I’m going to enjoy this, omega,” the alpha said as he waved off my warden. “Present.”
The last was a barked command, one my exhausted omega couldn’t fight. We did as we were asked, the dress shoved up with rough hands before I was forced to give my body away with no fight.
He was the last of the alphas who didn’t bite me. Another failed attempt at breeding me during a forced heat. One I didn’t even feel the effects of.
He’d spent days trying. I was only conscious for half.
Then I had a stretch of time where I was left alone outside of being hosed down and fed. Time that I didn’t have to be touched or abused. Didn’t have to listen to my captor tell me what was going to happen.
The next time he came I was forced to take a bite. The half-bond was like poison in my veins. It drowned out the heat drug they’d injected. My screams were loud but they loved that.
The memories of those times were blurry. Small, shattered pieces of the pain and desperation I felt when the drugs took over. I needed what the alphas had, but I hated every second of it.
Hated myself. Hated them more.
My body wasn’t my own for years, as they cut through the bond, forced us to break it as the alphas bonded to new omegas. More alphas bit me, overlapping, never-ending bites that tore my flesh.
They didn’t care. When I presented they didn’t have to see that aftermath.
We were playthings, tools, used over and over for selfish alphas.
I heard the other omegas, but never saw them. Screams, moans, sobs. The constant background noise during every waking hour.
My omega retreated after the first bite, terrified and desperate to hide from the perverse mocking of what a true bond should be.
More came and went when I showed no signs of pregnancy. After that it was like a challenge to them.
The moment I realized my omega was gone, that my heats weren’t true heats, I let their words fall off of me, too grateful that no child was ripped away from me and forced into whatever life they saw fit.
We were there for breeding, selling our babies to the highest bidders, and never to be seen again. If I couldn’t make it out alive, at least I wasn’t bringing a life into this hell.
