CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Seven years before

Mir didn’t know or care which alpha had paid for their time, as the table full of hot food, including an entire roast chicken and a leg of lamb, drew every ounce of attention.

The tantalizing aromatic scents clouded the air and their thoughts. Saliva flooded their mouth, as the brown, greasy chicken skin promised perfection. They hadn’t seen a whole chicken, let alone a hot, freshly roasted one, since they’d left home, and that had to be at least a year ago. Their focus jumped to the club-shaped leg of meat next to the chicken. They’d initially thought it was lamb, but it could have been goat too. It didn’t matter, because even if they got to taste it, they wouldn’t know the difference. The Reeve family budget hadn’t stretched to red meat, apart from the occasional pound of pork sausages for which Mir had traded eggs.

A quick glance showed their competition. The fancy, curly blonde-haired omega cuddled into an alpha’s arms as he sat in an armchair. Her rounded, soft hips and belly, screamed of a protein-rich diet, unlike Mir’s sharp elbows and stringy muscles. As always, both omegas were naked.

Mir had only seen this omega when they had group meetings, usually to witness the punishment of an omega or a beta. But her name escaped them. Not that they’d bothered to remember it, because on two of the three occasions that had happened, Mir had been strung up by the wrists and feeling the bite of a lash. The bitch looked down their nose at them as if Mir was a sloppy turd. But her time would come, it always did.

‘Special’ omegas like Mir always started, and remained, in the basement cells. But fancy fresh ‘stars’ who spread their legs willingly in the upper rooms eventually ended up down with the dregs, the broken, the uncooperative, and the hidden.

One of the demoted omegas had described how the fancy omegas lived. If you were popular, obedient, and worked hard to please the alphas, you shared with a few others, got actual beds, and had a proper bathroom with warm water. Mir was one of the most popular omegas, but if anyone praised Mir for obedient behavior, they’d probably hang themselves with their shackles.

By the look of this one’s bouncy curls and radiating smugness, Mir bet she even spent time in the bar. Which might have been where she’d been chosen for whatever this was. Mir kept quiet, waiting to find out what they’d have to do to get the food if that was even an option. Tease the omega and make them beg was a favorite alpha game. They’d do a lot for a few minutes at that table, but begging wasn’t an option.

“Well, what’s it going to be?” their opposition’s alpha asked. Mir hadn’t even looked at theirs who held them by the back of the neck. He was taller and more muscular than Mir, wore a kilt and a beard, and smelled like an alpha just like all the rest. The food was by far the most interesting thing in the room. Their belly growled as Mir contemplated the possible success of a grab-and-stuff strategy. They might get a mouthful of food, but the punishment beating would probably make them throw it up anyway. “Because if it’s a beauty contest you’ve already lost.”

“Hell, yeah, you have,” the blonde piped up. “They must have picked up that dog at a pound. All bark and no bite. One raised hand, and she’ll piss herself. I know the sort; they’re all bluster until they know their place. As you can see from the scars, plenty of people have taught her. Why would you even want that? Send it back, it’s already polluting the place, not that she’s ever been up here before.”

Mir waited, letting their fury build and fester. They’d never met either of these alphas, and they probably had no idea what Mir could do. But this time, if one of them lost concentration, it wouldn’t be them Mir would go for.

Please, let this be the time I can actually do what I’ve been dreaming of since the first ‘high’ bitch sneered at me. I’ll teach you what a ‘dog’ can do. Even her scent made Mir’s teeth grind. Omegas were as territorial as alphas when in heat, and although Mir didn’t want either of these alphas, instinct still provided the urge to force out a rival.

The omega didn’t seem to realize what she was letting herself in for as she continued to bitch and preen for the alphas. “They keep the low life underground with the other vermin. I’ll take care of both of you.”

“Shut up,” her alpha said absently and continued talking to the only important person in the room as far as he was concerned. “But you have to admit, she’s a hell of a lot more attractive than your big ass scarred bitch.”

The alpha kept hold of Mir’s neck and brushed the back of his index finger down the side of Mir’s face. The intimate touch sent a wave of repulsion rushing through them and they jerked away. His grip tightened in warning. Mir tried to relax. Catching an alpha unawares was the only way they’d ever gained a temporary advantage.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in this case, Four is the most beautiful omega in the whole of fucking Malthusia. Because, dear cousin, tonight our competition is an omega fight. Last one conscious, or breathing, wins.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the blonde said, but her sneer vanished as alertness widened her gray eyes.

The other alpha’s mouth fell open as his gaze shot to Mir. Mir gave him a grin, not being punished for fighting was almost as welcome as the prospect of the mouthwatering food. “They won’t let you do that; these bitches are valuable.”

“I already asked; that’s why our choices were restricted. You had first choice of omega, and I chose the competition. That was the deal.”

“Yeah, but I thought it would be something sexy, like first to knot or most climax sort of thing. Sounds good, right?”

“Does to me. Breaking a nail on that bitch’s hide would be a waste,” the blonde whined, batting her thick, make-up-covered eyelashes at her alpha, manicured and clear varnished long-nailed finger lifted to his lips, and outlined them in what Mir thought was meant to be a seductive gesture. Mir cringed.

If they got to fight, Mir would be breaking a hell of a lot more than a nail. But the blonde was right, if they chose first to knot, Mir’s alpha would probably lose. Mir never gave in easily, even if there was literally food on the table. But if it was most climaxes, Mir would have the petite blonde beat hands down. Although winning that competition probably wouldn’t get them any extra food. By the time their stupid omega body let him go, the food would be gone.

“You don’t think omegas fighting is sexy?”

Mir tried to turn to look at the alpha who had picked them for this ‘entertainment’. The grip on their neck tightened, and warm breath brushed their temple. “Think you can take her?” Anticipation drenched his voice, as much as lust controlled the tone of most alphas in Hell.

Mir met their opponent’s eyes and put as much dominance in their voice as they could. “Depends what my prize is.”

The alpha’s growl made Mir want to sink to the floor, but they lifted their head instead. Mir was a bastard calf, and they’d never fucking give in.

“How about me not beating the crap out of you before I fuck you?”

“How about no beating, no fucking, and free access to that table?”

The other alpha barked out a laugh. “Should’ve agreed to the fucking competition, cousin, because either way, it sounds like you lose.”

The room spun, and Mir’s back banged up against the wall of the bedroom. A black-bearded alpha snarled down at them as their feet barely touched the floor. But the alpha’s grip on Mir’s throat wasn’t tight enough to cut off their air supply. The dominant move made Mir’s channel clench, needing to be filled. Hate for this broad-shouldered, hairy, bear-like alpha, battled with self-disgust.

“Don’t fuck with me, bitch.” His growled words flooded their cock with blood.

“Don’t want to,” Mir lied as slick slid down the inside of their thigh, “but if you fuck me as hard as I need to get the mating reaction, I won’t be able to mess up that pretty face.”

The pressure eased up on Mir’s throat, as cold black eyes narrowed. “You think you can?”

“A black eye, a split lip, or just a bloody nose before I choke her out,” Mir shrugged, “your choice.” The boast was only part bravado. Mir had caused every injury they’d mentioned as a proto-alpha, but they’d never choked anyone unconscious, although since coming to Hell, it’d be done to them enough times to understand the technique. Nerves bubbled, but only about his honesty. Letting their inner anger out on one of the stuck-up bitches who constantly looked down on the other low omegas without consequences was a wish come true.

“If you win, you get the food. If I see blood, I won’t touch you. Break a bone, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch you either. But if you kill her, I’ll take you out of here.”

Mir’s jaw dropped in disbelief, and the alpha smiled. “You like that idea, huh?” He wants me to kill her? The idea should have shocked them down to their bones, but Mir felt nothing other than anticipation for the struggle. This place was fatal for every omega eventually, and a chance of escape, even if it brought the life of this omega to a premature end, was worth it. Once out of here, Mir was positive they could get away from this heavy, slow alpha. They’d steal a boat, get across the channel to the continent, and they’d never have to worry about anyone else, ever again. All they had to do was hang on to the chokehold for longer than they’d already planned to finish the job.

“What? What did you say?” The blond omega squeaked.

The alpha dropped Mir and turned to his cousin. “I said, I’d take her out of here if she kills you.” The sweet smell of her fear rose in the air. “But the same goes for you too.”

The other alpha’s eyes flicked to the doorway, clearly not happy. “Whoa, cous, I never said I wanted to be involved in anything like this. This was meant to be a fun weekend, not—” he waved a hand between the two omegas, “—whatever this is.”

“Relax. Do you think they can really hurt each other?”

Mir tuned the alphas out as they concentrated on the only avenue they’d ever been offered to escape this place while still breathing. They wouldn’t lose, but could they go though with ending a person’s life? Don’t think of it as a person, just do it quick, like with the chickens. Their chicken-killing technique involved speed so the animal didn’t experience too much distress. Blowing out a breath, determination to do this right, and never think about it again, ruled Mir’s mind.

Wrapping their thumb over their fingers, Mir sidestepped the standing alpha, took two running steps and planted their fist on the nose of the omega still seated on the alpha’s lap. Blood bloomed, spraying on the white tablecloth and the alpha’s pale yellow and brown kilt. The omega shrieked, hands going to her face, but the alpha shoved her off his lap onto the floor. He grabbed a napkin, wiped ineffectively at the dark stain on his pale kilt, a sneer of revulsion twisting his features.

“What the fuck? I just fucking bought this,” he growled.

Big alpha arms wrapped around Mir’s torso from behind and dragged them backward, almost lifting Mir off their feet. “Hey, I didn’t say go yet.”

Fury blazed at being stopped; they would have to start again now. “Didn’t know there were going to be fucking rules, did I?”

The blonde stared at her hands, at the blood on her fingers, and her jaw set. “You hit me.” The disdain in her voice that such a piece of shit would deem to touch her sent Mir’s angry even higher. All thoughts of ‘quick and not frightening her’ evaporated.

“Yeah, and I’ll do it again, bitch, as soon as he lets me go.”

The one holding Mir spoke up, clearly amused. “I think yours gets a free hit for the false start.”

With both hands under her armpits, the seated alpha bent down and boosted the blonde to her feet. “Go on, honey, knock her block off.”

The alpha holding Mir, the one who was fucking betting on them, tightened his grip.

Fury obliterated sense. As the bitch walked forward, arm pulled back, Mir used the alpha to push off and kicked her in the head. She staggered sideways, and no way Mir would give her time to recover.

Mir slammed their head back connecting with the alpha’s nose, and he released them with a roar. Lunging forward, Mir grabbed the fluffy blonde hair with both hands. Instead of fighting back as anyone with a lick of sense would do, she grabbed for Mir’s fists. Idiot. Idiots lost. Idiots died.

Most omegas might have been content with pulling another’s hair, even ripping some out; Mir used it as leverage to drag her over to the heaving table, and then slam her forehead on the sharp wooden corner. A dull thud echoed through the room. The omega began twitching as if she was a puppet and the puppet master was shaking their hand. Mir released her, or they tried to. Her long hair had tangled around Mir’s fingers.

Mir’s focus narrowed down on the blood-stained yellow strands. It felt as though they were cutting off their circulation, polluting them. Mir ripped their hands free. The omega’s body slumped to the floor; the tremors stopped. Mir had killed hundreds of chickens and that… that looked just the same. But it wasn’t, it so wasn’t. Mir stood, breathing hard as the adrenaline drained, but they couldn’t tear their gaze from the person they’d killed, as they tried to feel something, anything. Numbness or fury, this was what this place did.

But I’m getting out. The thought exploded in Mir’s brain, but a heavy hand landed on their shoulder and flung them into the arms of the dark-haired standing alpha.

“What did you do? What did you fucking do?” The alpha who had chosen the blonde knelt by the side of her crumpled body, fingers fumbling for her neck.

“Fuck, you’re not even marked,” said the alpha holding them, as his gaze raked over Mir. Only a few spots of blood marred his white shirt to tell the story of his fun afternoon entertainment.

Holding Mir at arm’s length, he glanced over their shoulder at his cousin. “Is she dead?”

“No, but her eyes are twitching; her brain’s fucked.”

Mir swallowed, mind on the promised prize of freedom. “Do you want me to finish her?

Mir saw the blow coming, but with the alpha grip on them and the speed, they didn’t have a hope of avoiding the slap that seared their cheek and snapped their head to the side. Ears ringing, and with spots before their eyes, a shove sent them to their knees.

“You stupid bitch,” he raged. The kick to Mir’s belly had their vision blackening at the edges, but through sheer force of will, they pushed the clamoring darkness away. They blinked, sight still not kicking back in, but their hearing worked.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” They’d never heard such panic in an alpha’s voice. Somewhere at the back of Mir’s mind, they knew they should be scared, but right now, all they could do was try to contain the pain and keep on breathing.

“What do you mean? I thought you arranged this?”

“I was bullshitting. I thought they’d just—” the alpha broke off, and Mir imagined him miming a pathetic slap.

“Ok, ok, let’s think. We’ll claim it’s an accident. That this one just went nuts.”

Metallic blood coated Mir’s tongue from a split lip, but not as much as fury burned in their veins. Pushing themself up, despite the ripping pain in their belly, they focused on the cousins, rather than the body of the omega.

“You fucking cowards. And you call yourself alphas? Grow some real balls and—” The second boot to the head stole every thought.

Mir spun toward consciousness, the familiar panic-inducing scent of disinfectant assaulting their nose far more than the pain in their still-empty belly. They tried to move, to open their eyes, strained with everything they had, but none of their muscles heard them.

“The other one can still be used as a surrogate, right?” The hated voice of the Owner asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t put anything valuable in there; with that much brain damage she might die at any time. But she could also survive almost indefinitely if we keep the machines on.”

Mir strained even harder as the voice of the fucker who’d put them here discussed using the omega they’d hurt as a living incubator. If Mir had put a little more effort into that shove, she would be out of her misery now. Panic hit. Had they done something to make Mir like that too? Was this it? Hearing and feeling pain but nothing else? Mir’s mind screamed into the void.

“Noted. Diagnosis on this one?” They sounded as if they were discussing livestock, not people.

“Concussion. Lacerated lip. Torn knuckle, although it took a while to find due to all the blood from her victim on her hand. Most serious is a small tear in the spleen that’ll heal on its own if she’s left alone for two to three weeks, and then nothing too energetic for another couple of weeks.”

“Good. We need this one in the program. Their spirit is extraordinary. If I hadn’t had a camera in that room, I might have believed the accident claim of those two clients.”

“Even with the boot mark on her belly?”

“Well, it is Four. She makes everyone a little crazy, including you, doctor.”

“She won’t if she’s sleeping, and judging by that heartrate monitor, she’s wide awake, and hating up a storm despite the muscle relaxant.” Amusement radiated in their voice. If Mir got free, the doctor would be their second victim, closely followed by the Owner.

Ice crept into their vein, flowed toward their heart, and the loose grip Mir had on reality fled.

Mir woke again, still strapped down to the gurney, but this time, the room was quiet and almost dark. The only light came from a small lamp on the white workbench to their right.

Mir hated being down here, hated the smell, hated the clinical, uncaring doctor with all their dark, dirty little soul. At least the reason they was here wasn’t to have a pregnancy terminated.

This time, it was because Mir had destroyed a life. Laying in the dark, Mir searched their emotions. Once, they’d loved, had defended their family fiercely. Mir wasn’t capable of those feelings anymore. Hell had raped, beaten, and humiliated every sliver of compassion and regret out of them. Given the same choice, the same slim chance of escape, they’d do it again, and again. Simply surviving in this place left no room for empathy. The empathic withered and died. Mir would survive, if only to end their tormentors.

Maybe Mir was the unthinking animal they claimed. But it seemed that was exactly what the Owner and the doctor wanted for their program.

The memory swirled, changed.

Mir’s hand was again in the blonde hair of an omega, but this time they was in a bathroom and both Mir and the omega were dressed. The thud as the omega’s head hit the countertop was the same, but this time, Mir didn’t stop. They pulled Natelle’s head back and slammed it into the white work surface again and again. The initial bloody mark on the pristine porcelain expanded and flowed. And all the time, Tavish’s voice came from behind Mir.

“Go on Mir, do it again, smash that bitch.”

Not an ounce of remorse or horror brushed Mir’s mind. Instead, they felt satisfaction, a rightness, that they was destroying a rival.