Page 16 of Dark Company

Karis

A soft beeping seeps into my brain, melding with the images that flash before my eyes. Mother cooks at the stove while Father sits with me on his lap. Annora is there, but she’s far younger. Are these repressed memories that float in the ether of my subconscious? Or is this all a dream—a fantasy that feels all too real?

I reach out to touch my mother, but every time, she drifts further and further away. Though I don’t want to leave the comfort of my father’s arms, I want to graze my fingers along the fabric of her dress to see if she’s actually solid. Deep down, I know it’s not possible. My parents have been gone for quite some time, leaving me alone with Annora as my mother.

Just thinking her name sends a frisson of rage over my body. Even in this tranquil dream, I can’t deny the fact that she lied to me. The vision morphs, snatching me away from my parents and plopping me into the kitchen with Annora. I watch, silent, as she makes my breakfast.

When I was younger, far too little to swallow pills, she ground them up and put them in my drink. Vitamins, she said. Supplements. Things to help you grow big and strong, just like Daddy. As if he needed any extra help. As an Alpha, he was large. Even if I don’t remember him with the clarity I would like, I knew that much. He was always a looming presence that brought peace into my heart.

How long have I taken those pills? I wish I had something in my brain that recorded every moment from birth that could allow me to go back and see when the first instance was. It had to be before I was capable of rational thought. All I can remember is the chalky taste on my tongue and the scent of fear that followed her wherever she went.

We were both so young, but that scent drilled itself into my brain, as if it were a part of her, of us. The moment the pill was taken, the scent faded, leaving her with the natural sour smell of anxiety that normally plagued her.

Is this what she was always so stressed about? They didn’t talk much at school about masking a dynamic. Probably because it was so rare and illegal. No one wanted to hide who they truly were, so why her? Why us?

There had to be something that I didn’t know. It had to be more than just the fact that my sister hated me and wanted me to be forced into a beta existence when I could have lived like a queen. I saw how the omegas were treated. True, there were rights they didn’t have, luxuries they couldn’t afford, but they had the bond, the undying love of an Alpha that would crush the world to make them happy.

They didn’t have to clean or work. They could laze about with their only job being the children. In my mind’s eye, I wrap my hands around my waist, willing for a child to implant itself, even if it’s an immaculate conception. It would give me a proper purpose.

Until now, I never dreamed of children or marriage, but that was because I was forced to think like a beta. I didn’t want an Alpha just for the relationship; I wanted him for the protection and luxury his status could afford. That was before I knew I could accept a bond. I could be one of the few that felt their mate swirling inside them.

The schools briefly touched on the idea of a bond but didn’t go into any details, seeing as none of us would have any. The Alphas that were in class with me had their own form of education, where I’m sure they learned far more than us beta females. My true knowledge of the bond came from banned books that were tossed about the schoolyard and read in secret.

I always resonated with the omegas, wishing I could spend my life lying about in a nest while my Alpha waited on me hand and foot. I was never created to work, and yet, with her decisions, Annora took that option away from me. She forced me into a life of servitude, and for what? She worked herself to the bone when she could have been one of the pampered.

Knowing her, she’d say she did it for me, but none of this has ever been about me. If it were, I would have had a say. No. It was all for selfish reasons. She probably never told me because she was worried I’d go to the High Echelon, and she would be right. If I had known while back at Stanlion, I would have gone straight to the authorities and forced them to change my mark to that of an omega.

True, my sister would have probably ended up in trouble, but I would have been safe. Deep inside, my stomach churns as I weigh the pros and cons, unable to believe that I would have just sold her out like that. But it’s who I am. I always get what I want, even if my family tries to stand in the way.

Besides, as an intact female, it’s not like her punishment would be all that terrible. It couldn’t be any worse than us having to live this fake life in fear all the time. In truth, wouldn’t it have been a relief to just get it over with? The constant anxiety must have weighed on her. Wouldn’t that be punishment enough?

Sorrow lances through my heart, even as I am stuck in this dream, and it hurts. It fucking hurts. The incessant beeping permeates the fog, and my head whips about, searching for it. It’s a familiar cadence, almost as if it’s in tune with my heart. Pausing, I look about, noting the haze that covers every surface. The colors are muted and bland, almost as if they are devoid of color, but not quite.

I search for my sister and parents, but they are nowhere to be found. Agony thrums through my body as my fingers grip the familiar tile of the kitchen counter. I want to cry out, to beg for someone to come back and take me out of this realm of nothing and back into reality, but I can’t speak.

There are no whispered words breaking the spell, no utterances that will set me free. Tears stream down my face and plop onto the counter, but even those are silent. All that exists is the sound of beeps that drill into my brain and my heartbeat that answers in kind.

My love, my love, don’t cry.

Let the suns guide you.

Let the moons shield you.

My love, my love don’t cry.

The words are soft, almost like a whisper or caress in my mind. I whip my head around, looking for the source, but there’s no one there.

Shelter is found in the morning.

In the burning suns that warm your skin,

In the haunting moon as it guides your path,

All along the dusty road.

My love, my love, don’t cry.

Turning around, I see a long hallway filled with darkness except for a pinpoint of light at the end. In that speck are a pair of hands reaching out to me, beckoning me forward.