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My eyes scrape over her, over the ample chest and the wide child bearing hips. No wonder she looks like the definition of omega. It’s all fucking fake.
She leans even closer. “The doctors knew I was going to be a beta. They tested me when I was ten. Every year, they tested me until it was clear that I wasn’t going to present as anything other than beta. And my daddy really didn’t like that. At first, he wanted to have me change into an alpha. He thought it would give him more power. But I convinced him an omega is a better choice. I don’t want to be the one taking care of someone, I want to be taken care of. You understand, don’t you?” She says it conspiratorially, like we’re in on this together.
“It’s so much nicer when you don’t have to think about anything. Just let your alphas handle any little mishap that comes up.”
I frown. “That’s not how alphas and omegas work. It’s symbiotic, Claudia. Yes, alphas supply stability and safety to their omega, but omegas provide grounding and balance to the pack. They take care of them, help them just as much as alphas help omegas.” She tsks, like I’m wrong. But I just keep going. “If that’s how you view pack life, no wonder no one wants you.”
Pain erupts in my head, making my ears ring, and it takes me a moment to realize she punched me. I’ve only been hit once before and that was by an alpha trying to kidnap me, so her little omega punch isn’t nearly as bad as that. But it still makes my drugged up brain swish inside my head, and then ache fiercely.
“Ow,” I groan. “Jesus, Claudia. Really?” My hands yank at the leather binding me. “I’m tied up! What the hell was that for?”
She folds her arms over her chest and sniffs, looking down her nose at me. “You never fucking shut up. No. You’re always talking about things you have no fucking clue about. I’ve done my research, cherrybomb.” There’s no hiding the flinch at her use of Swift’s nickname for me and she smiles meanly. “I’ve studied omegas for fucking years. Practiced the omega whine and the submission. I’ve put in the fucking work. And what have you done? What do you actually know about being an omega?”
Her points hit a hell of a lot harder than I care to admit. I don’t know what it’s truly like to be an omega. That I thought I was a beta for the last twenty-five years means I’m not naturally submissive. I’ve tried to smother my omega instincts to whine and purr and nest. I hate that I broadcast what I’m feeling all the fucking time through my scent.
The only thing I actually like about being an omega is my pack, having a scent match, and being knotted. Everything else is… bullshit, in my opinion. Especially since Swift has made it clear that even if I wasn’t an omega, they would pick me. They all have.
I lift my head and meet her gaze. “I might not be a traditional omega, Claudia. But I am an omega. I’m their omega. Even with all your study and practice and surgeries. Even with your theft of my hormones and my scent, that is something you will never be.”
My ears ring and I taste blood as she hits me again. I blink the spots from my eyes to find her shaking out her hand and hissing in pain. Her knuckles split and oozing blood. Fucking good, she deserves to hurt.
“They don’t want you,” she scowls. “Not really. How could they? You look nothing like an omega. Look at you. You’re not even pretty. You just got to them first.”
“Claudia,” a wry voice chides. One that I recognize all too well. “That is enough.” Dr. Funkle rounds the chair I’m in, sliding into the pool of light. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a pack to comfort?”
I stiffen at that. The last thing I want is for her to go to my pack while they’re distraught over me. Claudia is a master manipulator with using omega wiles on alphas. How many times in the last week has she whined at just the right time and made one of my alphas comfort her? How many times has she looked at them with her big blue doe eyes and they’ve given in to her? With the bond between me and Luca gone, he won’t have any resistance to her.
Claudia, I think harder at Swift. Don’t trust fucking Claudia.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Claudia snarls at him. “This is your mess. You promised me she wouldn’t present as an omega, and look what the fuck happened. Fix it.”
She stomps out of the room with that directive, wide hips swaying in her skirt. I hear the door close behind her and then I’m left alone with the man who did this to me. Who used my body as an experiment for years.
Chapter 33: In which we finally get answers
We haven’t found where they’ve taken our omega.
Ethan is working on it, but the assholes found a blind corner in a parking garage and changed cars there. Drove our omega out in a new vehicle that we have no clue about the make or model. There were twenty cars that left the parking garage shortly after they entered, and Ethan is following up on all of them.
So far, he’s had no luck.
The rest of us are just standing around with our thumbs up our fucking asses while we wait.
I’ve already put the call out with our men, already have them scouring the city for any sign of Sadie. I have our most fierce enforcers mobilized, ready to go at the drop of a fucking hat, and we have enough weapons strapped on our bodies to start world war three. We’re ready to get our girl. We just don’t know where the fuck she is.
“Shoulda put a fucking tracker under her skin. Was gonna. Didn’t want to risk losing her again,” Swift mutters to himself. Under normal circumstances, I might have called him on his overprotective bullshit. I know Sadie thinks I’m the one that’s overbearing, but I’ve got nothing on Swift. Once he finds something he wants or cares about, he’s fucking obsessive.
If I’d known Swift was the first of us to find Sadie, I wouldn’t have fought so damn hard. I’d have known he wouldn’t let her go.
“But I was trying to be fucking respectful,” he continues. “Didn’t want to freak Cherrybomb out. Should have just done it while she was asleep, so she’d never know.”
“Can you get a sense of where she is?” Logan asks. He’s pacing. Logan never fucking paces. He’s always a sea of calm in our pack bonds, but here he is, moving back and forth across the hardwood floor.
“If I could,” Swift grits out. “We wouldn’t be sitting here. She’s fucking scared, though. And angry.”
Good. Anger will keep her spirit up, will keep her from falling into despair.
“I’m trying to let her know we’re coming, but I don’t…” Swift looks down at his hands. “We have the pack bond, but I never try to monitor it.” It’s true. Swift is always a swirl of emotions in the bond. Whatever he’s feeling, we feel too, unless he has it shut down tight. It’s always one or the other. Everything or nothing. And I know there’s no chance in hell of him shutting out Sadie right now. I don’t want him too, and I doubt she would either. I’m sure she’d rather have all of his emotions connecting him to her than nothing.
