Feral Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 1)

Thane’s grip on my arm is firm as he escorts me back to the infirmary, his anger rolling off him in waves.

But it’s not directed at me. His glare is fixed straight ahead, no doubt imagining wringing Valek’s neck. Still, being this close to an emotional alpha sets my nerves on edge.

I’m not sure he could wring Valek’s neck. Thane’s raw power is broadcasted in every move he makes and every word that comes from his mouth, but Valek is equally powerful in his own right. Equally dangerous.

They’re all beasts in different ways.

Thane, a noble lion.

Plague, a skulking crow.

Whiskey, a roaring grizzly bear.

Wraith, a lone wolf.

And Valek?

Valek would be a cobra.

Thane may have won this battle, but he did not win the war. If I were him, I’d be keeping my boots on my door at night so I’d know if a snake slipped in.

Either way, I lost. I didn’t escape.

Even worse, I proved I can’t be trusted outside.

If I thought I was in prison before, what fresh hell awaits me now?

I keep my head down, trying to make myself as small and unobtrusive as possible as we enter the infirmary.

Plague looks up, his expression unreadable behind that unsettling mask.

‘She was out with Valek,’ Thane growls, finally releasing me. ‘Why was she left unsupervised?’

‘She wasn’t,’ Plague replies evenly. ‘Whiskey was with her.’

Thane scoffs. ‘That’s the same damn thing and you know it.’

A sigh hisses through Plague’s mask, distorted and mechanical. ‘I’ve been working on something anyway.’ He turns, rummaging through a drawer, and my heart starts to pound as he withdraws a metal collar. It gleams coldly under the harsh infirmary lights.

What the hell is that?

‘It’s the kind they use on prisoners,’ Plague explains, his tone almost apologetic. ‘I’m afraid it’s not exactly decorative.’

Panic surges through me, primal and overwhelming. They’re going to collar me like an animal. I bolt for the door, but Thane is faster. His arms wrap around me from behind, pinning my own arms to my sides as I thrash and struggle.

‘No!’ I hiss, trying to kick him in vain.

But even if I managed to connect with his legs, I doubt he would feel it. They’re all built like brick walls. Especially Thane.

Beasts, all of them.

Plague approaches, the collar open and ready in his hands. I writhe in Thane’s grasp, kicking and twisting, but it’s useless. He’s too strong, his hold unbreakable. The cold metal touches my neck and I flinch, a whimper escaping me as Plague secures the collar with a decisive click.

Thane releases me and I stumble away, my hands flying to my neck. The collar is snug, not tight enough to choke but impossible to ignore. A constant, tangible reminder of my captivity.

Of their ownership over me.

Tears sting my eyes but I blink them back furiously, refusing to let them see me cry. I won’t give them that satisfaction. Instead, I glare at Plague with all the venom I can muster.

I don’t say it, but I think it.

Fuck you.

‘It’s for your own safety,’ Plague says, his tone infuriatingly calm. ‘We can’t have you running off into the woods. And it’s better than an embedded tracking chip, isn’t it?’

I want to scream, to lash out, to make them hurt the way I’m hurting. But I know it’s futile. They hold all the power here, and no amount of fighting will change that.

Not yet, anyway.

The battle, not the war, I tell myself.

So I swallow my fury, my humiliation, and turn away. I retreat to the corner of the infirmary that has become my makeshift cell, curling up on the narrow cot with my back to them. The collar is a heavy weight against my throat, a constant, inescapable reminder of my helplessness.

I can hear Plague and Thane’s murmured voices as they discuss something, but I tune them out. I should have taken my fucking chance when I had it.

Not that I think I’d have had any easier of a time escaping from Valek. Despite his teasing, I don’t think he would actually let me go.

But he’s right. I would need weapons.

Weapons, rations, medical supplies.

I know what it takes to survive out there. I did it for long enough as a child, but those woods and plains were far more hospitable than these mountains, which are so frigid and filled with carnivorous beasts who would eat me alive in a matter of hours, best case scenario.

Not that these beasts are much better.

I press my face into the thin pillow, trying to block out the world, to escape into the darkness behind my eyelids. But there’s no respite to be found, not even in my own mind.

Memories flash through my head, disjointed and chaotic.

The Center, with its sterile white walls and cold, clinical hands. The guards, their leering faces and bruising grips. The other omegas, their eyes hollow and haunted, all fight long since beaten out of them.

And now, these alphas. These monsters.

Thane with his imposing presence and dark, unreadable gaze. Plague, his voice calm and clinical even as he takes away the last shreds of my autonomy. Valek, all sharp edges and mocking cruelty, his eyes glinting with a hunger that chills me to the bone. Whiskey, his boyish face belying the predatory gleam in his eyes, always watching, always wanting.

And Wraith…

I shudder, curling in on myself tighter.

Wraith terrifies me the most. It’s not just the constant echoing whoosh of breath in the tubing snaking from his gas mask, or his immense physical size, or his utter silence save for the occasional growl. There’s a darkness in him, a barely leashed violence that I can feel like a physical force whenever he’s near.

They’re all dangerous, all alphas to their core. And now I’m at their mercy, collared and caged, a plaything for their amusement. The thought makes bile rise in my throat and I swallow hard, fighting the urge to be sick.

I can’t let this break me.

I can’t let them win.

I’ve survived worse than this, endured horrors that would shatter a weaker soul. I’ll find a way out of this, somehow. I’ll bide my time, play their games, let them think they’ve tamed me.

And when they least expect it, I’ll strike.

I’ll fight my way free or die trying.

Because a quick death is preferable to a life in chains, a life as their pet, their property. I’d rather feel my blood spill hot and red than feel their hands on me, claiming me, breaking me.

But I have to be smart.

I have to be patient.

I can’t let my desperation make me reckless, can’t let my fear drive me to foolish action. I need to observe, to learn their routines, their weaknesses. I need to gather my strength, to heal and to plan.

And most of all, I need to harden my heart.

I can’t let their strange moments of apparent kindness sway me, can’t let the loneliness and the yearning for affection weaken my resolve. They are the enemy, now and always.

And I will never, ever let myself forget that.

No matter how gentle Plague’s hands may be as he tends to my wounds, no matter how Thane’s eyes soften when he looks at me, no matter how Valek’s mocking words hold a glimmer of understanding, of kinship in our shared brokenness.

They are alphas, and I am their prisoner.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

There can be no trust between us, no true connection. Any softness they show me is a lie, a manipulation meant to lower my guard.

I won’t fall for it.

I can’t afford to.

Exhaustion tugs at me, the events of the day weighing heavy on my battered body and mind. But I fight it, unwilling to let sleep claim me, to be vulnerable in their presence.

I need to stay alert, to be ready for anything.

So I stare at the white wall, my eyes burning and gritty, the collar an ever-present ache around my throat. And I wait, coiled tight as a spring, for the next move in this deadly game.

Valek was right—I am a rabbit.

A rabbit in a snare.

But even a trapped creature has teeth and claws.

And when the time is right, this rabbit will bite.