AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tears prick my eyes. I did it. Somehow. Maybe. I saved them. But…did I save me? I try to blink my eyes open, but my limbs are slick with sweat and the piling that’s crushing me is immovable. If Cyprus couldn’t do it and he’s an Alpha now, I suppose it’ll just have to stay there.
“Kiandah,” my brother growls, “You did it. You took away the flames…you’re ascending…you’re an Omega…”
I know that I’m ascending, but it doesn’t occur to me that I am ascending as an Omega until Cyprus says the word out loud. I can hear him calling for help, calling for people to help me first. I can hear my mama shouting my name, shouting for my sisters, shouting for my dad, but I can hear papa’s voice, too. He must have made it. Now, he’s shouting for me, too.
“Kiandah!” My brother roars. I feel him trying to move with renewed urgency, hands and feet clawing over the floor as he tries to rise. I wonder what's startled him now, what's coming. Is there another beam going to fall and take me out for good?
And then I hear wood cracking and know I'm dead...but the beam doesn't fall. Instead, a gale of cool air floods the church — or what's left of it — and my brother starts shouting with renewed fervor. “Get away from her! Get the fuck away from my sister…” He descends into coughs and my heart goes out for him.
The beam at my back lifts and I can suddenly take in air. I breathe so deeply, but most of what I get is smoke. Most of what I get is pain. I’ve felt this pain before, too. The burn is familiar. It hurts, but I’m not scared of it. No, I’m scared of the fingers on my arm turning me over. They’re heavy and thick, even meatier than my newly ascended brothers are. They’re also sharp, like he’s got claws.
And then I flop onto my back and see that yes, he does have claws. He’s also displeased, his eyebrows drawn down over his sharp nose. His full, red lips are turned down at the corners. His white cheeks, dusted with stubble, hold color. Not like he’s embarassed — though I’d pay good money in the afterlife to see him shy or embarassed or coy just once — but like he’s pissed off to see me. His black hair hangs down towards me, streaked with grey at the temples.
“Omega,” he sneers.
Something horrible harpoons me in the gut. It's so out of place, it makes me wonder if I’m already dead, because I don't feel pain. Right now, I feel pleasure instead.Crippling lust.I hope I pass out, but I remain horrifyingly conscious. Feeling like I ought to say something, I open my mouth. “Yaron…”
Ohmygosh. The familiarity with which I speak to him assaults me with a fresh wave of horror. My lust grows, tripling, quadrupling, becoming something of catastrophic proportions.
Lord Yaron's nostrils flare. He hisses, “That ismy Lordto you, murderer.” And then he crouches down on his haunches at my side and leans in very close, so close I can smell his haunting cologne. It slaps me like I would slap him, if he’d let me. If we were lovers. But that’s a thought for the afterlife. Yes, in the afterlife, I’ll hold his chain in between my fingertips and train him to be my very good boy. The very best boy.
But this isn’t the afterlife, because instead of kneeling at my feet, he kneels at my side and wraps a massive, furry and clawed hand around my neck. “I should leave you here.”
That's fine. I don’t mind. Just save… “Cyprus,” I mouth, more than speak. There’s something in my mouth that makes talking an impossible feat, but I still try, still fight for him. “Save him… Innocent…” My eyes flick up over my head, towards where he lies pinned but I don’t know if Lord Yaron sees it.
He squeezes, crushing my wind pipe and I lose the ability to breathe entirely. “You may be an Omega, but that will not spare you or your family’s punishment. For your crimes, you are sentenced to life imprisonment and I will take great pleasure in inflicting every torture unto you and your kin that you inflicted unto those Alpha families.” His fingers hold me tighter. “You will suffer.” My core contracts. The lips of my labia pulse with maddening pressure. “You will rot.”
Pleasure slices through me like itty bitty shards of glass, but when he slides his hand from around the front of my neck to the back and lifts me off of the ground, pain finally manages to club its way through them. I don't scream. Lord Yaron's just admitted to planning to torture me. I don't suppose my screams will sway him now, and if he gets off on them, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I don’t imagine he’d get off on them, though. No, in my head, he’s still perfect. And when I pass on to the afterlife, he’ll still be my good boy. The very best one.
But for now, I’ll deal with the splintering, cutting pain in my back, chest and lungs and I’ll deal with the brutal way he stares at me and accept that he’s a demon monster with no compassion and no empathy. He’s Lord Yaron. Every bit as cold as I’d imagined him to be, only now, all that ice is directed directly at me.
Lord Yaron knows who I am. My worst nightmare and greatest dreams are coming true. I grit my teeth through the pain in an effort to smile at him politely and say,Pleased to meet you, but instead I cough blood all over his chest and clothing. He carries me out of the church and tosses me into a wagon where, despite his words, someone starts to administer to me.
I don’t manage to pass out until the doctor shows me a needle and inserts it into my throat.
I met Lord Yaron.
That’s not quite how I thought that would go.
