Chapter 1

“It’s too bad you had to get old,” Trey sighs. I’m kneeling at his feet, chin pointed down in perfect submission. Unfortunately, the floor is cold instead of the plush warmth of the rugs of his home, and I’m currently naked as I kneel.

I’m not old, but I am older than my Alpha likes his girls. I’m the youngest omega he’s found at ten years of age, and he jumped at the chance to pay my parents whatever they wanted.

At the stab of pain in my chest, I push the thought away, because I don’t like to think about the past.

The time where my name was Harley Rivers is long gone. I’m not that wide eyed, innocent little girl anymore, something Trey has made sure of. Now, I stay silent, conditioned to being his perfect little omega.

“Why didn’t the hormone suppressant pills work,” Trey complains. His hand fists in my hair, pulling my head roughly back. I no longer make sound, even as the pain makes my eyes sting with tears that will never drop.

“Look at you. Wren, you have breasts now. Why couldn’t you stay my little pet forever?”

I stare at his forehead because he doesn’t like eye contact from me unless he commands it. His Alpha bark is so strong, I have a feeling that if he could, he’d command me to never grow up, always to stay his little omega.

Instead, he gave me pills that practically stopped my development. Unfortunately, not only is this type of medication incredibly dangerous for an omega, it’s also not effective indefinitely.

I started growing hair at nineteen that I made sure to wax, which is the reason why he kept me so long. I also would have bound my breasts if I didn’t spend so much time naked around him.

Every hint that I was growing more mature I attempted to erase, because I was terrified this day would come.

Whenever Trey was angry with me, he would tell me about the auctions. There are several of these omega auction houses in the Minnesota area, but he typically goes to the Jefferson City Auction House to see what they have available.

He’ll make the trip at least once a month, but hasn’t been able to find any omegas in the age group he enjoys.

So Trey has kept me for the past ten years, even beyond the prime time he likes, desperate to keep my body as prepubescent as possible.

“Why,” he snarls, slapping at my breasts, and making me cry out. “Now I have to sell you! How could you do this to me, pet?”

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” I whisper. I am, though not for the reasons he thinks. I would much rather stay with the devil I know than the one I don’t.

The stories of the men who Ophelia, the auction organizer, brings in to buy her omegas aren’t for the weak at heart. Trey doesn’t believe in being gentle with his words, so he told me all about it the last time he fucked me.

Although, fucking is something you can only do if both people consent, and I never once have. No, instead Trey has used his Alpha bark when he fucks me so that my body acts willing, while my mind screams for mercy. So I despise my body for finding a way to mature, forcing me closer to my first heat.

Trey wants a child, not a mature omega with needs and cravings, and heats.

“I know you are, pet,” he croons. We’re in one of the back rooms of the auction house, because Trey asked Madam Ophelia if he could say ‘goodbye’ properly.

She simply asked him not to leave any marks before she led him here. Omegas bounce back quickly, so that doesn’t mean Trey won’t hit me.

“Alpha Trey,” Madam Ophelia murmurs, peeking her head in. She’s an omega like I am, and in her forties. It’s hard for me to believe that an omega would be left in charge of anything, but she has a benefactor that she’s proven herself to, and they split the profits unevenly.

What can I say? Trey talks a lot when he’s with me. Who else am I going to tell?

There are a lot of things I know about, but I’ll never repeat because of his Alpha bark commanding me to keep it to myself. I wonder how long until his bark will wear off once I’m no longer his property?

The lonely musings of a long abused omega aren’t something anyone cares about, so it’s probably a moot point. This is the way our world works. Omegas only have the rights their alphas give them, and if they’re unmated, then they have none at all without a family to protect them.

“Yes, Madam Ophelia?” Trey drawls. He seems to make up his mind about something, muttering, “Maybe just one last time.”

Continuing to hold my hair in his fist, he uses his other hand to stroke his cock. Even at fifty-five years old, his erection is thick and large. His knot is already beginning to fill, and my eyes widen before he’s shoving my head down, so that he can smear pre-cum along my lips.

“Open, pet,” he grunts, his bark clear in his voice. Trey isn’t an alpha you can say no to, so people bend over to give him anything and everything for fear of his power.

In the same way, I can’t do anything but open my mouth as his acrid scent surrounds me. His cock almost smells like burning rubber as he thrusts his hips up as I swallow him down.

He’s trained my gag reflex away, so all I can do is curl my nails into my palms as the foul odor floods my senses, and it feels as if I’ll never breathe fresh air again.

He pulls me so far down his shaft, my nose bumps his pubic bone. Shifting, he begins to fuck my face in earnest.

I can taste the familiar taste of battery acid as his pre-cum begins to hit my taste buds. My every instinct screams how wrong this is. He’s not my mate, he isn’t pack, and I’ll never find any of that as an omega sex slave.

These are the thoughts my mind screams every time Trey commands me to do something against my very nature.

Yet, I do it because I have to.

“One last time,” Trey grunts. “Take my knot down your tight little throat like my good omega. Come on.”

There’s a smaller hint of his bark, and I can feel my throat preparing to take his knot. There’s nothing I can do, even as I scream in my mind.

“Alpha,” Ophelia murmurs, stepping forward. “The omega must go on stage now. We don’t have time for you to knot her, Sir.”

Trey huffs, pushing me until his knot fills my mouth but doesn’t go any further. It’s enough so that he becomes my everything. I can’t breathe unless he allows me to, and my throat burns as he rocks his hips, as if he’s about to ignore Ophelia anyway so he can knot my throat.

“She will always remember that I stole her soul,” Trey growls. My nose begins to run as he continues to slowly rut into my mouth. I can see the vestiges of his humanity are unraveling, and I don’t know why.

He’s never lost his control like this before, certainly not over a blow job.

Ophelia takes a deep breath before sneezing. “Your omega smells very sweet, Alpha. She’ll fetch a lovely price today. It speaks volumes about your control that you’re able to keep yourself in check,” she says.

Smart omega.

A moment later, Trey snarls, pulling me off his dick and flinging me away. As a much larger male, the motion makes me roll along the hard ground before bumping into a table that stops me.

“This is why you’ve been on hormone suppressants for so long,” he growls. Peeking up from my arms that are covering my face, I see he’s barely keeping it together.

Some alphas can’t be around mature omegas, because the need to go into a rut is too strong. It seems Trey is one of those alphas. I can’t say his decision to buy little girls says much about him either, though.

Standing in jerky movements, he shoves his engorged cock back into his pants with a wince.

“You’re not worth the risk!” he yells, spitting on the floor. “I’m leaving, be sure to wire the money after she’s sold, Ophelia.”

I have snot running down my face, my eyes sting from not being able to breathe, and my chest is heaving. Still, not one tear is released. I think they all dried up when I was ten-years-old, facing an alpha three times my size, realizing my life was over.

Dramatic? Not really, when this is the state of my life.

Trey storms out of the room as I slowly sit up, eyes wide. Ophelia sighs, shaking her head.

“You’re a mess,” she mutters. “Don’t just sit there. Get up, get up!”

Ophelia forced Trey to realize how close he was to losing control by complimenting him on it, hoping that it would help him to snap out of his rut. She didn’t do it to help me.

Scrambling to my feet, I stare for a moment before she huffs out a breath and grabs my arms, pulling me into motion.

“Good for nothing omega slaves,” she mutters as she moves through the doorway and into the back hallway.

I can hear someone calling out bids to a roaring crowd I can’t see, somewhere in the building, and I glance around as I walk, watching omegas of all ages crying.

There’s one girl who watches on silently, her chestnut hair thick and wavy. She’s wearing a pair of tiny black shorts and a blue crop-top, which is a lot more clothing than I currently am in my naked state.

I meet her blue-eyed gaze for a moment before Ophelia forces me to continue walking. Every one of these omegas have one hell of a long day ahead of them.

Their faces blur as I’m pulled and yanked, even though I’m following Ophelia compliantly. One more omega pulls my gaze before I disappear into another room with the Madam. This girl has long, auburn hair, her body thin but strong. The black lingerie is over the top as she leans against the wall as if waiting for what’s next.

I wish I could have that same fuck-off mentality, but I’ve seen too much, and a pool of dread fills the pit of my stomach from what’s to come.

Nothing good comes from the auctions. Nothing at all.

Thirty minutes later,Ophelia pushes me back out of the room. My face is cleaned up, my makeup redone, and a collar is now fastened around my throat. I was too shocked to fight her before it was on me.

My fingers are twitching from stress, and it feels as if I lost time after the collar. My mind is trying to protect me, but I think the ship has sailed on that project.

There’s a tiny partially see-through white bra on my body, sculpting and lifting my breasts. It shouldn’t be possible for this thing to work, but it does. The thong Ophelia must have forced me into is riding up my ass, and is incredibly uncomfortable.

Taking a breath, I remind myself that I can and will survive this the way I’ve survived everything.

Through sheer determination and grit.

There’s a line of omegas in front of me, and Ophelia pushes me into a place.

“You’ve been quite the hassle to deal with, omega,” she complains. “The least you can do is sell well tonight.”

Ophelia stomps away as I sigh. All thoughts I was gathering to decimate her sad little existence of power scatter as I smell salted caramel popcorn. The scent is so strong, I sway where I stand.

The acrid, stale scent Trey left behind is quickly chased away, and salt sits on my tongue before it marries the sweetness of caramel. Finally, the taste of popcorn follows, making me bite back a whine.

I’ve never whined in my life. What the fuck is happening to me?

There have to be hundreds, possibly thousands of alphas in the audience that’s hidden from my eyes by a curtain. Fate is truly a bitch for one of them to be my scent match.

It’s considered almost an old wives’ tale by omegas to be blessed with finding their scent match, and mine is here.

A warehouse in Jefferson City, here to buy an omega. Shuddering, I ask myself which God’s cheerios I must have pissed in, because that’s the only explanation for my scent match to be here.

The line moves forward, and I stumble after them, my mind a mess.

I don’t know if I should wish my match will scent me and buy me, or if I should wish for the opposite. Who is she or he, and why are they here?

Thoughts bombard me from every direction until the time flies past and I’m being shoved out onto the stage. The bid caller sneers at me as he sees my collar, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck to bring me closer to the edge of the stage.

A sea of men and women shout in front of me as my eyes widen.

“You’re in for a treat!” the beta yells out. I can tell he’s a beta by his lean muscles, and he’s not as broad as most alphas. I also don’t think an alpha would lower himself to work here day in and day out without losing control the way that Trey almost did earlier.

“This collar tells me this little omega was bred for slavery, and will do anything you wish,” the beta continues. I was sold into this world, but otherwise he’s right. I’m weak, and utterly at the mercy of an alpha’s bark.

“She will be your perfect breeding machine or kinky little fuck toy. Her name doesn’t matter because when her heat takes over, she won’t care what it is either. Smell how sweet she is, friends!”

I’ve never had a heat before, but I don’t feel differently. I’m not perfuming the way the books I’ve read in Trey’s home while he’s been away detail, and I don’t have puddles of slick flooding my panties.

I don’t understand why he’s lying to them, unless it’s to sell me for a higher price, because I don’t even feel extraordinarily warm either.

The beta makes me second guess myself though, and panic starts to flow through me. God, please don’t let me go into heat here, that would be disastrous. Trey’s hormone suppressants have made my body very confused, so I don’t know what’s possible anymore.

“I’ll start the bidding at one-hundred thousand dollars, friends! Can I hear the next bid?” the beta asks.

Numbers fly around the room as people scream so quickly it makes my head spin. My lashes flutter as a roar fills my ears that has nothing to do with the yelling in front of me. My anxiety is high, my teeth are starting to chatter in the freezing cold room that should feel warmer, and all I can fucking smell is caramel salted popcorn.

All too soon, I hear a voice that ends the bidding. “Two million dollars!”

“Sold!” the beta yells eagerly. I can’t imagine that much money, and I sway on my feet. “Little whore, you will stand your ground, you hear me? You’ll be out of my hair in the next few moments, and then I’ll never have to deal with you again.”

The beta is angry that I’m feeling lightheaded, and he drags me to the stairs, where someone helps me down them. My bare feet stumble as I walk, words of shock and sadness filling my thoughts.

What will become of me? Whose new shiny toy will I be now?