The Blood of the Omega Slave

Essie

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I never heard the sirens. They did not ring out, nor did they blare; only the sounds of men bursting into steel doors like paper and the screams began emanating from somewhere along the northern corridor.

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I leaned against the walls of my cell and counted: breaths, cracks in the ceiling, intervals between footsteps. The counting kept my mind from venturing into the horrors that could be happening mere meters away from me.

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I had been counting since childhood, ever since I realized what this place was, and what they meant to do with me. I was not the only prisoner that they held here. The place housed other people too, werewolves snatched from various packs for all sorts of purposes. They could be experimented on due to some unique traits they possessed. I heard tortured screams all night, desperate pleas first thing in the mornings and eerie silence after a prisoner had been forced out their last breath. The boy two rooms away couldn’t even say a single word anymore after being subjected to too many experiments involving his healing powers. The lady at the end of the hallway hadn’t seen the sunlight in three whole years since her eyes could see beyond the natural realm. And I was their most prized possession.

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Their steps grew nearer. I knew what was going to happen in a week. The handlers had said it clearly to me with maleficent glee in their eyes. It was time for my first insemination. One of their patrons had bought the privilege. I did not know who he was. There was no need for me to know that.

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The prophecy tied to my blood ensured that the pups I birthed would be invulnerable to harm, immune from pain, and unbeatable in combat. It did not matter who the father was. Whatever child grew in my womb would be born a weapon.

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This was how valuable I was. This is what had made me a prize long before I could comprehend anything. The prophecy had been leaked by someone within my family. My parents were alive after my kidnap, but they did not rescue me, and after a while, I forgot why they never did.

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My prison door fell from its frame. It wasn't unlocked. It was ripped free and put aside as if it weighed nothing. He came into my cell; towering, broad shouldered. His dark brown skin seemed to sparkle and his eyes darted as if he searched for me out of habit. In four steps, he made his way across the room and seized my arm.

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"Come," he said.

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I didn't resist. I knew the price of resistance.

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They all seemed to know where they were going inside the building, as if they knew it by heart. We met Marcus in the hallway. The man who owned the building. Fat and white and already sweating.

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"Hey," he said, pointing his finger. "This one stays here."

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That fat, stubbornly finger had been inside my mouth: when I bit him, sinking my teeth so deep that I hit bone. He never touched me after that.

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My escort stopped. Marcus made a grave mistake by taking a step forward towards me. One punch was all it took for him to fall down. The man didn't falter as we continued forward.

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We traveled for a considerable amount of time. I remained quiet while sitting in the back seat of the car, gazing out the window and trying to determine where I would end up, my thoughts spiralling. Another facility. Another handler. But the same setup dressed in finer attire.

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The facility we entered was large and well-managed. The sort of operation that had been going on for years under the management of a perfectionist. There was lush, rolling fields and flocks of people. I could feel their eyes stabbing at my back.

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After taking me to a room within the facility via a cedar-scented hallway, the man released my arm and turned around to face me.

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"Alpha Christoph," he said. "This is my pack."

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He studied me as everybody did. They always seemed to be calculating something.

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"You won't be hurt," he said. "You'll have a room, some food, clothing."

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I waited.

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"But you will not leave without my consent."

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"A better cage," I stated, my voice croaked.

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"Protection," his jaw clenched.

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"From whom?"

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"From anyone who covets whatever you have with you."

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But at that moment, he walked up to me and though all my instincts were screaming for me to back down, I refused to budge, because he stopped right in front of me, and then his hand reached out and touched my jaw, gently yet the callouses were anything but.

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"Pup after pup," he whispered softly. "That is what brought you here. Your body will build an army for me that is stronger than anything on earth. As long as you can."

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He rubbed my cheekbone with his thumb and I felt like ice formed in my belly.

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"You're going to be so delicious, Essie. I've waited so patiently." He whispered.

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He let go of me and made his way towards the door. The lock clicked from the outside.

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I stood in the center of the room and counted breaths and did not cry because tears could not save me anymore.

The small window above my bed beckoned me, I moved to the window and peered through it.

There was a lone man, walking leisurely through the compound with his hands buried in his pockets. His eyes met mine when he walked below the window. He paused briefly. He did not regard me the same way as Christoph. He simply stared at me then nodded briefly and resumed his walk.

I watched him till the darkness swallowed him up.

Dex

I found Christoph on his way to dinner. He moved through the northern corridor with a dominating gait. Dark trousers, a deep charcoal shirt with the sleeves folded back to the elbow, the leather crest-band sitting heavy on his left wrist. Two guards trailed at a respectful distance behind him.

I fell into step beside him. "The omega..." I began.

He didn't look at me. "What about her?"

"We know what that facility was. We know the kind of operation they ran." I kept my voice even. "What we don't know is what they did — or didn't do — for her while she was there. She could be carrying injuries that haven't shown themselves yet: malnutrition, infection or any thing hidng beneath the surface." My voice dropped into a whisper. "She needs to be examined and she needs to be fed. Tonight."

"She seemed fine to me, Dex. She’s just a little confused."

"If she gets sick — truly sick — because we didn't spend an hour on her care, and something goes wro