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I sink my fingers into her hair and yank her head back.
“You’re coming with me, so be a good girl and stop fighting,” I say.
Tears glimmer in her eyes, but she grits her teeth and glares up at me despite her terror.
She swallows and pulls in a ragged breath.
Expecting her to plead for her life, I scowl when she screams out a warning. Thumping comes from the vent. I release her hair and cover the bottom half of her face with my hand. She opens her mouth to bite me, but I wrap my fingers around her jaw and force her teeth together.
I nod for the closest man to investigate inside the duct. He lifts the grate and shouts before lunging forward, but his shoulders won’t fit into the tunnel. He curses and yells, but the scurrying moves further away.
The tiny sprite writhes against me. I lift my weight from her but keep her wrists pinned high on the wall as I check her pockets. Finding nothing, I growl and manhandle her with ease, stripping three layers of fabric off her top half and four off her bottom half until she wears nothing but ill-fitting panties and a long, tattered t-shirt.
“Leave two men here. No one comes in or out of this room without me knowing,” I say as I lift the female off her feet. She grunts as her stomach lands over my shoulder, and for a moment, guilt twists my guts, but I shove it away and stomp toward the door.
The room stinks. She stinks worse.
It’s nothing a shower won’t fix.
Underneath the grime and filth is a soft, feminine body just waiting to be plundered. With her disguise stripped away and her pussy so close to my face, I know without a doubt what she is.
She’s an omega.
Myomega.
The halls clear as I stalk around each corner, no one daring to block my path. I ascend the stairs, passing the main deck and continuing upward until I reach the level below the command station. All the while, the female squirms and fights on my shoulder, but never calls out.
She knows no one will help her. She’s mine. No one would dare go against me.
Not after I crushed my last challenger’s skull with my bare hands. Since then, the upper decks have known a level of security never seen before.
I gesture to the alpha stalking behind me. He stops in his tracks and takes charge of the rest of my men. They disburse into their assigned areas as I step over the threshold to my lair.
I close the hatch and spin the handwheel until it seals. With a hiss and thump, the sounds of the world fade away, leaving me alone with a tiny, terrified female.
My tiny, terrified female.
Her knuckles dig into my lower back as she pushes herself upright. I smirk at her little gasp of surprise and stride across the room.
Every horizontal surface on the left side of my den holds stacks of clean, soft things. I’ve scrubbed, sun dried, and hoarded every scrap of decent material I could find, waiting for the day I found my omega. Towers of blankets and pillows crowd the shelves while carpets, curtains, children’s toys, and a mishmash of other soft items line the walls. My sleeping pad and single pillow lie in the center, ready for me to return for another night of restless sleep.
Except, I won’t be alone tonight, and I won’t be sleeping.
Pots full of dirt and drooping seedlings line the right half of the room. Despite my best attempts, nothing survives beyond the initial stage of growth. Even with the sun streaming in through the high, wide windows and a steady supply of clean water, I’ve never harvested a single item from my indoor garden.
That’ll change now that I have my omega.
I stalk through our den and into the washroom.
She releases another gasp, testing my control.
Pride swells in my chest as she silently studies the fixtures. Rusted and sporting a few chips along the edges, the shower, claw-foot tub, and washbasin are nowhere near perfect, but a fresh coat of glossy shine prevents them from rusting further. She forgets to fight as she takes in the soap and herbal fragrances lining the counter and back ledge of the shower. Her eyes catch on the stack of fluffy, white towels sitting on the bench near the door.
An odd mix of utilitarian and luxurious, our washroom offers the best amenities on the entire cruiser. I know because I’ve pilfered every room.
Or so I thought. Now I wonder what other treasures roam the nooks and crannies of my ship. I prop the shower door open and shift to set my female on her feet, but she jerks, hoping I’ll drop her if she upsets my balance.
I wrap my fingers around the back of her thigh and growl. She stills. Her trembling works through my shoulder and her scent thickens in response to my low rumble. I fight the urge to sink my teeth into her hip.
