Chapter 1
“She is not to feel pain.”
A command like broken glass grinding into an open wound. Sharp, gouging—the kind of abrasive threat that would make a grown man feel Death breathe down his neck.
The physician’s hands stuttered, his work dabbing blood from mangled fingers faltering. Such hesitation betrayed much more than the Beta’s anxious scent. This was a male who knew one wrong word would see him a corpse. “I’m afraid that is impossible, sir.”
Hovering overly close, Caspian snarled. “What did you just say to me?”
In the short minutes since the physician had begun examining his captive mouse, the First Alpha’s fine mood had decayed. Raging victory at her chicken-scratched promise of loyalty faded. The glory that had beaten through his chest upon seeing her pale flesh marked by his many bites, depleted.
The ruby-red rivulets of blood that ran from the garish wound where his teeth had pierced her throat were no longer beautiful.
The glassy-eyed albino was a fucking wreck—one stuttering exhale away from the reaper.
Keeping an unwavering eye on his prize, Caspian put a hand on her ankle, one of the few places on her body that was not damaged, as he addressed the frazzled Beta physician who’d been dragged from his bed in the middle of the night.
“No Pain! And no scars will remain.” This he could give her, stroking his thumb over the protrusion of her ankle bone. “Do you understand me, doc? Only the bite on her neck is to be left alone.”
From where he paced beside the bed, Toby issued a challenging growl. Clipped words followed a twitch in his cheek. “My claiming mark will remain on her shoulder, Caspian. Do you hear me? Remove it, and you force me to bite her again.”
Chest expanding in an angry breath, Caspian was cut short when the physician interjected. “Gentlemen, I cannot erase this kind of damage with a handheld cauterizing laser. All of these wounds will scar, though I will do my best to keep it minimal. But skin cell manipulation requires delicate application of the larger equipment in my clinic, days of careful monitoring, possible surgery depending on the depth of the damage. She should be brought—”
The very idea inspired pulsating fury in Caspian’s chest, a cage of unbending black encasing a shriveled, beating organ. “Suggest taking the Omega from this den again, and I’ll slit your throat.”
One threat against the old man, and Caspian’s mouse finally turned her head. Their eyes met, muddy brown to bloodshot violet, and a look of such heartbreak took her from vacant to wretched. It said, please. It urged the target of that glance to settle and be calm.
One thing it did not do was challenge; not that look. The mouse gave him a look of complete and miserable surrender.
Where had the warrior gone? The mouse brave enough to face his brawn with little more than a bent piece of cement-caked rebar?
Where was the hellion who’d taken his leaking cock with a scream, bucking her hips to pull him deeper even as she’d tried to throw him off?
What of the Omega who had set her teeth to his throat, and dared mark him as if she might claim ownership?
How she had howled and spat curses with her eyes. How she’d choked on Toby’s then Kieran’s cocks, guzzling down their cum once knotted and trapped beneath Caspian’s full weight.
He’d filled her to the brim with seed, forced her to hold it all in so it might swim around her belly and let the fiery thing know she was outmanned. And still she’d fought, grinding Caspian’s knot deeper, howling her rage as that perfect cunt fluttered and sucked.
Caspian had fucked her every possible way, knotted her more times in those maddening hours than he’d ever taken a woman. It wasn’t about keeping her pinned. It was about filling her with more, forcing submission upon the hellcat who had, without question, bruised several of his ribs and torn several pretty gashes into his skin.
The urge to get more cum inside her, to sink his teeth into the wriggling, vicious mouse’s flesh… he’d been drunk on it. High on her scent, intoxicated with the strangling grip of her pussy.
On the broken thing’s strength.
He’d fucked her face down, scraping her tits over old, wet cement. Flipped her over once the first knot shrunk and shoved his way back in so he might see her blown eyes when he brought her to another ragged climax. All claws and teeth, she’d also taught him that a little Omega severed from sanity was as dangerous as she was fun.
Volleys of blows had struck his temple. But when his little mouse went for the eyes…
Had he been weaker, he would now be blind.
Delicate fists were trapped, but only after she’d broken his nose. Sent him roaring as he knotted her a third time and fucked her into a pulp while his men were in a riot of applause. Hundreds saw. The Syndicate, their slaves… the females daring enough to leave the pen and gawk.