Alpha Alpha Alpha!
“Your officer guy. Daniel Cyrus. He’s the sweetest fucking thing ever. And he gave me his phone, so I can make some calls.”
“Oh, yeah?” I shift uncomfortably, my womb cramping as I lean against the bar, struggling to stay upright.
“Yes. We’re all getting out of here, Olive. I’m not sure when, but we will. And then I’m going to ride Daniel’s dick into the sunset, while bathing in the blood of my enemies.”
I cough.
“He feels like shit about dropping you off, by the way. He’s on our side now, for our cause.” She continues. “He said you were running away from an Alpha?”
My head swims and my thighs squeeze together.
I don’t have the energy for this conversation.
I can’t tell her about Brock or Dylan just yet.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Are okay? Is your Heat coming?”
I groan, and she sets her drink down, signaling to the bartender.
“Bitters and soda water, please. Her stomach hurts.”
She wraps her arm around me and pulls me close to her. I inhale her scent, her spun sugar essence surrounding my senses. “They mix suppressants into the bitters for us,” she murmurs in my ear. “We smuggled them in two weeks ago.”
I nod as she hands me the drink.
“You’re incredible,” I whisper as I sip.
“We all are,” she promises me. “It’s a team effort. And none of these idiots know.”
The drink helps a bit, but my arousal is still off the charts.
“They’re having us stay here until the board meeting dinner is over,” she says. “Let’s go check out the dessert bar.”
My evening is a whirlwind of Hannah staying by my side and chatting with some of the other women.
They’re from all walks of life. Teachers, doctors, actresses, scientists.
The oldest Omega is sixty-five, and she talks about her grandchildren with tears in her eyes.
Every Omega is furious with the system, but they’re playing the game.
Just biding their time until opportunity strikes.
Monica makes an appearance, sporting a busted lip, and she looks away from me the moment our eyes lock.
I don’t have the energy to be mad at her anymore.
She didn’t understand.
Now, she does.
I close my eyes and moan at a particularly painful cramp while the guards watch us, and Hannah orders me another soda and bitters.
“My fucking loser cousin is going to be here,” she mutters, as I slouch over the bar. “He’s cooking for the board members.Assholes.”