Page 63 of Beta Lies and Cursed Lives
Rai and Aubrey split up to investigate the artwork as well.
Willow looks at me. “Cursed Omegas are very different from those without power, as I’m sure you know. We have our own specialists within the rebellion who have studied our physiology and behaviors.” She gestures with her chin to a small painting.
Colt and I look at the depiction of a young man in a large bed, completely covered in pillows, cloth, and other plush items, draped with more cloth and sheets like a big tent. Around the bed are two females and one male, smiling with obvious adoration.
“For instance, Cursed Omegas don’t feel the overwhelming urge to nest.”
I stiffen, my lips pursing as I bite the inside of my cheek and my free hand absently travels to my jeans pocket, the lump there giving me comfort.
Colt’s face swings into view in front of me, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips, and I know I’ve been discovered.
“Socks?”he says inside my mind with a small laugh.
I pout, my face heating.They’re small and I can keep them with me...
His hand clasps the back of my head, bringing my forehead to his lips for a light kiss.
“We believe that the stress of being Cursed, always pursued, always at risk, lowers the instinct to create a stable home environment. And what’s more…” Willow hesitates, gestures to another painting a little further away.
Rai and Aubrey join us to view a nude female Omega in a state of bliss, receiving the bites of her three Alphas at once. “Omegas were never supposed to be born having spontaneous heats.”
My gaze snaps to her. “What...what do you mean?”
She sighs, head shaking. “Omegas are supposed to be able to control their heats. We were never meant to be slaves to them. Research has shown that heats had always been ‘off’ by default. Going into heat was how we used to find our mates.” She gestures at the painting. “We would have huge gatherings every year, Omegas, Alphas, and Betas from all over the world would meet in hopes of finding their destined packs.”
Willow moves down the wall and gestures at another painting, this one far larger than the last. A vast gathering of males and females, all in beautiful ball gowns and tailored suits, mingling and drinking, laughing and dancing to live music being played on a raised platform in the back. To one side, a group of four exits through a door, smiling and laughing with joy. In another corner, a group of five are fornicating, a female Omega’s dress hiked up to her waist, a male Alpha on his knees pulls at her panties, slick visible on her thighs. One of her hands is under the skirt of a female Alpha standing beside her, who grips the Omega’s blond hair at the back of her head, lips parted. The Omega kisses a male, bent over, pants at his knees, ready to receive one of the other male Alphas lining up behind him. Something tells me this male is a Beta.
The imagery doesn’t embarrass me now. These were fated mates, fated packs. They were meant to be together and allowed to be, openly and freely. Accepted.
“Omegas were only unable to control their heats in the presence of their fated mates,” Willow continues. “It was how we knew who we were destined for. It’s why we would all gather like this and give everyone who was of age a chance to find their packs. To live happily. Forever.”
Aubrey stares at the painting with a pained expression, and the compulsion to embrace him is strong. But I refuse. He never wanted comfort from me, and I won’t be rejected.
Colt squeezes my hand again, and Rai turns to me, love in his impossibly dark eyes as he sweeps hair from the side of my face and smiles down at me.
Anger boils up inside my chest, though. “How does nobody know about this?” I demand.
Willow looks at me with sorrowful eyes. “The victors write the histories.”
How dare these Betas take away our history. Take away our freedom.
There’s a twitch behind my ribs.They must pay.
I couldn’t agree more.
She moves down the wall again, a frown on her face as she points to the painting now in front of her.
People in suits shout angrily in a courtroom, a female on the stand, a varied group sits in judgment.
“Omegas could turn their heats on whenever they wanted. It was meant to be a way to better ensure mating led to pregnancy, but some Omegas turned their heats into weapons. Formed false packs out of infatuation or a desire for power. When that started happening more, the oppression began. The culling.”
She takes a couple of steps down the wall and hangs her head, eyes closed.
When I look at the painting in front of her, the sound of dismay that tries to escape me can’t. I can barely breathe. Colt releases my hand to hug my body to his, Rai’s hand rubs my back tenderly. Aubrey stands like a statue beside us.
Gaping, severed heads, male and female, sit atop a line of pikes in the background of the image, piles of bodies in various states of decay in the foreground. I lean in to get a closer look when I notice something etched onto the foreheads, then choke when I realize they’re omega symbols, seared into the flesh there.
Willow’s voice is quiet. “The most elite and powerful packs and bloodlines were falling victim to false pack formations the most. So they pushed back the hardest. Death.” She swallows hard enough I can hear it. “They’d come for the Omega children and execute them, too. Decimate the bloodlines. They thought back then that the control was a mutation. But they were wrong. We were always able to control them, we just never abused the power, until temptation was too much for some.”
