Page 17 of Omegas Don't Cry

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Thealphasdon’treturn, and I’ve long stopped wondering what time of day it is. In all honesty, I lost track of time long ago. Around the time my grandparents were murdered.

Time just seemed to freeze after that.

This is just ridiculous. How long do they plan on keeping me here? Will this be my life from now on?

Shit. Do they plan to keep me here during my heat? Do they plan to…?

Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no.

This can’t be happening. I can’t be in the same house with those alphas during my heat! There’s no telling what I will do. It’s my first, and my behavior will be unpredictable, erratic. I wanted to be alone at least for when the time finally came, but the lions only brought me back to their den.

I close my eyes, thinking of my happy place. I’m back with my grandparents at our country cabin. I’m sixteen years old again. It’s Sunday morning. I’m baking cookies with Grandma, and I can almost smell her delicious chocolate chip again.

Why did I have to awaken as an omega? If I had just turned out beta, then I may have still been with my grandparents. We never would have had to go into hiding, and I would have been happy. I may have even gone to college.

I just wish I could turn back the hands of time and go back to that simpler time, back when I never realized how big the world truly is.

Back when I was ignorant.

Shit. I start to cry, and it’s a miracle my eyes can still produce water. It’s a miracle I can still feel after all this time.

Omegas are very good at masking their emotions. They don’t like emotional outbursts at the OCC. So if we want to survive, then we have to keep our mouths shut.

Such behavior could get an omega sent to the slaughterhouse, and it’s a wonder how we even survive our heats under their cruel mercy. We’re overly emotional, hormonal creatures, yet they expect us to be obedient slaves?

I shiver beneath the springs of my new bed, wrapping my arms around my legs. The tap drips in the sink, and I made up a little song to go with its rhythm.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, little omega…

Unless you want the big bad alphas to get you.

Yeah, it’s terrible, but I’m bored. And I think it would make a lovely nursery rhyme for children.

A growling reaches my ears, and I realize that I haven’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. They fed us nothing but slop at the OCC, but it was still enough to sustain us and give us the nutrients we need.

I miss food. Real food. I used to have such a sweet tooth. I haven’t had cake in a long time, and sometimes at night, I dream about stuffing my face with chocolate cake.

My stomach goes off again, and I wonder vaguely if this is how they’re going to kill me. Death by starvation.

Again and again, my stomach rumbles, and I double over in pain.

I’m going to die like this.

***

Roman

I peer down at the camera feed on my phone, gazing at the empty cell. It’s been hours since the omega disappeared beneath the bed, and her body must be cramping from lying in a fetal position for so long.

But what do I care? If it were up to me, then she would have died already. But stupid Sebastian had to bring her back to the estate.

Has he lost his goddamn mind? Bringing an omega to the house is suicide. Her first heat could arrive any day now, and we’re in no way prepared. Her perfume even spiked on the ride home, and I had to open a window.

I could taste her on the roof of my mouth, and all I could think about was rutting her perfect little ass with my swollen knot and making her moan.

This isn’t good. I’m supposed to be the sensible one, and I’m already fantasizing about knotting her. I'm normally well-controlled around omegas. If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be able to do my job as a hitman.


Tags: Violet Fox Paranormal