Page 28 of Ruined Omega

The bike whispers down the highway, driven forward by its automatic controls, carrying me toward the Quarantine Zone.

I reach one hand into my pocket, fingering the bottle of pills

It provides little comfort.

PART TWO:

THE ZONE

CHAPTER 10: BAEN

Source, this is a miserable job.

I huddle beneath the limbs of the scraggly tree, but it provides scant shelter from the sheets of rain that are rolling over the wasteland, churning the dead earth into a thick soup of mud. The downpour is so dense, I can’t see more than fifty yards in any direction. Hell, I can’t even make out the Quarantine Wall, even though I know it’s out there, somewhere off to my left, writhing across the landscape like a steel ribbon.

Yes, a miserable job indeed.

And to make matters worse, that asshole Taliesin is late.

Anyway, I think he’s late. With no sun to tell the hour by, it is difficult to be sure. But my internal clock is never wrong, and I sense that it has been at least two hours since he called me on that damnable human speech-machine. I’ve tried to raise him on it several times since then, but every time, there has been no response. All I know for sure is that he said to meet him here in two hours.

Well, it’s been two hours. So where the hell is Tal?

And what did he say in his last message to me? Did he really say he was bringing the target with him? Surely not. She’s an Outsider. A hive dweller. Surely she would not willingly let herself be brought back here to the Zone, right?

Source, if he’s bringing the target back here, then something must have gone very, very wrong.

Or perhaps, just perhaps, something went right.

For Tal, I mean. I grin at that thought. Yeah, maybe grumpy old Tal fell madly in love with the target, and he’s decided to take her as his mate.

I wouldn’t put it past him. Tal has always been enamored with the Outsiders and their way of life. Six months ago, when our high leader Addom proposed the mission to the Outsider’s city, Tal was practically tripping over his own dick to volunteer.

Me, on the other hand…I got stuck with the raw end of the bargain. I’ve been stationed for months, standing guard at the rendezvous point. It’s fucking wolf shit, it is.

I slump back against the trunk of this tree and try to expel my frustration in a heavy sigh. I glare out at the gray curtains of water falling from the sky.

By the Source, what did I ever do to deserve this?

Actually, I know the answer to that question all too well. The other Alphas are jealous of me. Jealous of the attention that I get from all the pretty young omegas.

Well, it’s not my fault, is it? It’s not like I’m one to go looking for trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact. Most of the time it’s those wild little omegas who are the ones trying to get into my loincloth.

It’s not my fault that I know how to make those little omegas howl.

My real talent is my sense of smell.

All of the Alphas have powerful noses, but mine is the best in the Zone by far. I can sense when a young omega is going into first heat before anyone else. Hell, sometimes I even know before the omega does. Then it’s just a matter of sticking close by the omega in question. Sooner or later, we’ll be left alone, and when that happens, it’s game on.

An omega in heat can’t keep her hands off me.

And being the young gentle-Alpha that I am, it would be downright rude to refuse them.

Besides, it’s all just harmless fun. I never actually fuck them—that could result in a pair bond, and I don’t want that. I never go around bragging about my conquests. I would never shame a poor, young, unbonded omega that way. And once they finally are bound to a pack, their Alphas are none the wiser. They never question their precious omega’s oral skills. They assume that she’s simply a natural. They have no idea that she’s been schooled by a master.

Source, when you stop and think about it, I’m practically doing them a public service.

But then there was that mess with Kronin’s daughter, Azia.