Page 3 of Hunting Their Omega

Her hand was around my throat in a flash, cutting the words off before they could pass my lips. “Ungrateful, insolent breeder. After all the Council has done, all the tireless workwe put into making you understand your place—a place many other females would give up rank and title for—you dare speak those words?”

I kept my face impassive, not wanting her to see me cower.

“Recite your vows,” she demanded.

I met her frosty stare. “I serve the Council and the Goddess. It is my honor to uplift their wishes and bring the gift of life to the unit that claims me. For with me, they give new life, and I am given purpose.”

They were hollow words, recited with practiced conviction.

The Den Mother nodded sharply. “Repeat them to yourself at night. Remember them well. It is your sole purpose, your only use. Without the womb between your thighs, you would be nothing. It is only because of it that you have been cared for and kept safe, and now, with your heat emerging, it is finally time to repay everything you owe.” She took a menacing step forward. “Thank the Goddess, child. Things could have been much worse.”

“We’ll take it from here.” The Alpha’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and his large hand wrapped around my upper arm with bruising force.

He yanked me down the steps, and the crisp night air bit at my skin in the fading darkness. I wanted to fight, but what would be the point? The outcome would be the same either way. He shoved me into the backseat of a sedan and removed his hand like it physically pained him to touch me.

Most people—including the officials—either despised Omegas for their ability to breed or coveted them for the same reason. After Lysandra, the dark High Priestess of Witches, placed a blood curse on shifters five hundred years ago, making all Alpha and Beta females infertile, Omegas gained a new status in society. We weren’t spared from the curse, though. Instead, we were remade by the Goddess as a gift after the Black War, an ancient war between shifters and the witches who sought to enslave us. It was an attempt to keep the shifter population from going extinct altogether, but Omegas were already rare, so it wasn’t long before violence tore through shifter ranks. Omegas were ripped from the arms of their mothers by those seeking to secure mates and offspring for themselves. There simply weren’t enough of us.

Omegas became Council property. We belonged to no pack—bore no last name. Everything we knew was stripped from us the day we turned six. Upon finding out the child was an Omega, some pairings would opt to give them to the Council in their infancy. I couldn’t blame them. Raising a child and knowing it would be taken from you the moment they hit the legal separation age was torture.

I couldn’t even remember my parents’ names. It was almost as if I had no life before the Omega boarding house. Captivity was all I knew.

We were breeders.

Faceless. Nameless. Worthless. A burden.

Even our claiming marked us as things, commodities to be won.

“Excited to finally feel a cock between your legs?” the Alpha asked, sneering.

I blinked, eyes wide with shock.

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t act so surprised, little Omega. There are some who might think differently, but we know what you really are.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, regretting the question as soon as it left my mouth.

“A hole.” He looked at me in the rearview mirror, a wild, dark gleam in his eyes. “To be claimed and bedded and filled until your womb rots. What an honor.”

“One you haven’t been gifted,” I shot back.

A growl tore through the car as he whipped around in his seat. The Beta placed a hand on his shoulder, and after a sidelong glance, he turned back to the front.

The tension remained, and his hate-filled eyes flitted from me to the road every few minutes, but thankfully, no more was said.

The road grew rough, and the car jerked and shook as it made its way over a gravel path. The sparse foliage thickened, and a dense forest the likes of which I’d only dreamed of rose around us. My wolf shifted in my mind, moving closer to the surface, taking in the scents of fresh pine and earthy oak. Her desire to shift and run free was palpable.

I didn’t even dare to hope.

It would be a kindness if our unit didn’t immediately impregnate us.

That thought inspired feelings I didn’t want to explore.

How many males would claim me? I frowned, pulling at my lips. Back at the boarding house, we learned units were made up of males who had already bonded in childhood. Male ranking systems differed from females slightly. There were both Alpha and Beta males and females, but Omegas were only female. The closest male equivalents were Gammas, who were exclusively born male. Their rank was the balancing force of the Omegas. We were the nurturers while they were the protectors.

Together, all three ranks could be paired in a multitude of ways. However, it was rare to have more than two Alphas in a unit. The groups could contain anywhere from three to, in rare instances, six males. I shuddered at the thought of being responsible for providing six males with an heir.

The Hunt was a rite hosted by the Council every three months where males were allowed to choose a mature Omega for their unit.

We weren’t privy to the details. All we knew was that every Omega participated, and the results would decide our fate.

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