Omega Mine

Once they reached the top of the staircase, it was only a few hurried steps to the door at the end of the hall. Without preamble, the Omega guard with a death grip on her arm knocked on the heavy door twice, shoving her through the entryway as soon as it opened.

Josie stumbled forward, irritated that, twice now, she’d been essentially shoved in front of the same asshole Commander, struggling to remain upright.

“Ah,” Commander Ortega said as soon as he caught sight of her, leaning forward in his office chair, elbows resting on his desk. “Perfect timing, Jameson. Samuel was just inquiring about our guest.”

Josie’s feet were rooted to the floor as she cast a wary look around, swallowing thickly when she spotted the Beta lurking in the far corner of the room behind her, his green eyes glowing like emeralds. His lip was curled in a snarl, jaw clenched as if her very presence enraged him.

For a moment, she worried that he’d notice the scent on her clothing was fading, but his expression remained the same as he inhaled, burning a hole into her head with his glare.

“Would you like me to wait outside while you visit?” Jameson asked, his tone neutral and his expression bored.

Commander Ortega smiled warmly. “That won’t be necessary. I’d like your report, after all.” He looked at Josie, holding up a finger and moving it in a spinning motion. “Turn, and let me see how you’ve fared after a night with the beast.”

Prickling with anxiety, Josie did as he asked, torn between cursing him out and hanging her head in fear of his response. Instead, she kept her stance rigid, head held high as she did as instructed. What was he going to do when he realized she was almost completely unscathed?

There was a beat of silence as she finished pivoting, facing the desk once more.

“Interesting,” Commander Ortega bit out, his smile going cold. “It seems the beast was uninterested in you. Unless the marks he’s left behind are under your clothes.” He snapped his fingers. “Samuel, undress our guest.”

Josie’s eyes widened as hands came from behind her, grabbing at the sweater she was wearing and ripping it over her head.

Whatever bravado she’d had before fled in an instant as her sweater was tossed unceremoniously to the ground, leaving her in a thin shirt and bra. His rough hands found the bottom of her shirt next, but she began to struggle against him, refusing to be undressed.

“Stop,” she cried vehemently, fingers biting into Samuel’s hands. Her nails broke his skin and he hissed, dropping his hold on her shirt only to slap her on the back of the head. Her head snapped forward, hair flying in her face and ears ringing from the pressure. Jameson moved out of the corner of her eye, catching her before she could fall to the ground.

“There is no point in us stopping until we see for ourselves the damage that has or has not been inflicted.”

“I heard what he did to her,” Jameson said suddenly, releasing her to address Ortega. “Would you like my report on what I was able to discern?”

Commander Ortega nodded, holding up a hand when Samuel reached for her again. “In just a moment, Samuel. Let’s hear Jameson’s report.”

“Her forced her to bathe him,” Jameson began, dropping his hold on her as soon as she was standing upright. Her face heated. He’d heard that? “I then heard him force her to pleasure him, and afterward, he shoved her head into the water of his bath because she was crying and he wanted to drown out the sound. He did this to her repeatedly.”

Her eyes widened at the bold lie, afraid that he was going to be caught, and they’d both be executed on the spot. Samuel was breathing hard behind her, and Commander Ortega narrowed his eyes, only furthering her belief of their inevitable demise.

Oh fuck, we’re going to die–

The Commander’s lips twitched, and he began laughing, slapping his hand onto the top of his desk as if the thought of her being assaulted was hilarious, and not something horrendous and twisted.

“I’m surprised you have any fight left in you after a night like that.” He chuckled again, wiping at his eyes before pinning her with a hard stare. “Still, why are you unblemished? That beast isn’t known for his gentle handling. I don’t even see a bruise on your face.”

Josie swallowed thickly. “He–he told me that he wouldn’t hit me because it would ruin my looks,” she lied, hoping that it was a suitable explanation. She did her best to keep her heart rate nice and easy, her voice steady. She was already freaked out enough that if Samuel noticed any slip up in her demeanor, it could easily be explained by fear, but that thought didn’t make anything easier, especially as fear was a real, living, breathing entity inside of her.

Commander Ortega’s eyes roamed over her figure, a calculated look in his eyes that made her shiver, dread knotting in her stomach. She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, for the first time wishing she was back in Grayson’s cell, that he was standing between her and this pathetic male.

“You have a bite wound on your neck,” he stated, his tone too casual. “Is that from the beast?”

Josie’s hand automatically snapped to her neck, covering it.

Fuck! Part of her had been praying that it would just go unnoticed, but her hair was all over the place from being jostled, and her sweater was gone. The wound must have been easy to spot, even though it was smaller.

Josie nodded, afraid to speak as he tilted his head. “It’s interesting that he would behave with such restraint after such a thing. Seven is known for his love of bloodshed, for ripping out throats, and yet all he did was nibble on yours.”

“He’s cruel to me,” she admitted, clutching her hands in front of her and squeezing to stop their shaking.

“Oh? Please elaborate. What else has he done to you?”

“He choked me and threatened to kill me several times. He said I was a gift and he could do whatever he wanted with me.” She kept as close to the truth as possible, hoping that her sincerity would help her get the fuck out of here, but based on Ortega’s behavior, Jameson was right. She wasn’t going to leave this place.

She refused to let that sink in, not wanting to howl her frustrations like a wounded animal in front of the predators around her.

“I find your answer fascinating, Josephine.” Commander Ortega stood to his feet, chair scraping back along the hardwood floor. “Seven is a creature relying on baser instincts that were beaten into him when he first came into government care. He is a beast. A thing. He shouldn’t have preferences, or desires that go deeper than the surface. But clearly providing him with a ‘gift’ has made him think he has a say in anything, which is simply not the case. He has no rights here, and giving a thing like him thoughts like this is dangerous, you understand?”

Josie’s mouth dried, her heart skipping a beat as Ortega moved around his desk, coming closer until he was standing right in front of her. The smell of scotch, excitement, and cigar smoke swarmed around her until she thought she would be sick from it, doing her best to hold her breath.

“Tell me you understand, Josephine.”

“I understand,” she said automatically, though she really didn’t, and that scared her more than anything. What was he saying?

Commander Ortega grinned. “Excellent.”

He swung at her, slapping her so hard across the face that her head snapped to the side, pain searing her cheek. She was too dazed to move, to do anything but focus on the burn that seemed to spread across her entire body.

He’d just hit her!

“Hold her, Samuel.” Strong arms latched around her torso at his command, keeping her trapped to a hard body as the Commander curled his hand into a fist. “I had planned on releasing you if you pleased me today, Josephine, but now I believe I have something infinitely more fun planned.”

He struck her again, his fist connecting with her lip and splitting it open. Her head flew back, smacking into Samuel’s hard chest and she groaned in pain, her face throbbing, her head feeling as if it was close to exploding from being rattled so much so soon.

“You see, I find it disturbing that Seven believes he is entitled to anything, even over how you look for him. He should have been eager to rut you and kill you, and yet he’s kept you in pristine condition, as if you were valuable. So, I’m going to beat you until I’m satisfied with your appearance, and then Jameson will return you to your new room to teach the beast a necessary lesson. I hope Seven will realize and understand, like you do, that you are here to do as I wish, whenever I wish it. That his thoughts and feelings do not matter. Nor do yours, as you are to be punished.” He shot Samuel another smile. “When I’ve finished making an example of her, bite her neck and replace that horrendous mark with one of your own. We can’t have Seven being possessive over a human whore.”

She’d known that Commander Ortega was seriously unhinged after their first meeting, but this was next level. He thought she was a human being, a person who was supposed to be under his protection, but he didn’t care in the slightest, only concerned that Grayson was developing a nurturing/kinder nature.

God, if only he knew why. She didn’t want to think about how merciless and vindictive he’d become after that.

As it was, he didn’t want his prized prisoner to develop a conscience, but she’d never expected to be used to ensure Grayson’s subservience. It sickened her as much as it terrified her.

“Please, don’t do this,” Josie begged, the metallic taste of her own blood spilling into her mouth from her busted lip as she began to struggle uselessly against the Beta. “I don’t deserve this!”

Commander Ortega rolled his eyes. “I’ll check on your progress in a few days’ time. I hope for your sake that Seven begins treating you as he should have originally, so that we might avoid any future unpleasantness.”

She barely had a chance to open her mouth to utter another protest before he shut her up with his fists.

Seven paced in his cell, feeling more like a caged animal than he had in years.

He’d woken a few short minutes after being tased, his skin feeling as if it had been lit on fire, and Josephine had been nowhere in sight. It had been hours since then, and she still hadn’t returned, which meant that she’d either been released or something had happened.

Given the harsh realities of this life, he expected the worst. That she’d been killed, dragged from his cell while he’d been useless to defend her. Useless.

Seven shouldn’t have cared that she was gone–hadn’t he been irritated by her from the start? Only, he did care. Her absence had shaken him far more than volts of electricity ever could have. Although he didn’t know why she had such an effect on him, he was practically vibrating with rage, having bloodied his knuckles from pounding on the thick metal door to his cell until he’d dented it in a desperate attempt to break out and find her.

His skin had already healed, which was normal for one like him, but now he was left with nothing to do but speculate on what had happened to her.

Josephine…

Seven snarled, spinning back around toward the door, fully intent on shoving his fist through the metal and tearing the door down or breaking his hand.

His ears twitched as he heard a commotion from the other side of the door as people walked in the hallway, slowly moving toward his cell.

He inhaled, eager to see if he could catch any scent that might remind him of her, eyes widening as the metallic odor of her blood hit his senses. The steps paused in front of his door, followed by a pained, feminine moan that had his hackles raising, body coiling with tension as a key was shoved into his door, twisting the lock.

“Get back, Seven,” Jameson hollered from the other side, voice tired and resigned. “If you attempt anything, I won’t leave her with you. Do you understand?”

Seven growled in answer, lip curling into a feral snarl as the door was pulled open, blinding light coming in from the hallway. His eyes adjusted to the harsh glare as Jameson knelt just inside the cell, depositing Josephine onto the concrete floor and backing away quickly. The door slammed shut behind him, locking again as Seven prowled to her side, the scent of blood and fear permeating the air, clogging his nose and throat until he felt sick with it.

What the fuck had they done to her?

She was curled into a ball, shaking and facing away from him, head tucked protectively into her arms. She emitted small, frightened whimpers, almost too low in the room to be noticed, but he heard every single one. His blood boiled as they sank into his chest like knives, cutting into him.

“Josephine,” he rumbled, crouching down beside her. He reached out, grabbing her wrist to pull her hands from her face. She flinched as soon as his palm made contact with her skin, another soft cry escaping as she reluctantly unshielded her face.

Seven’s breath froze in his lungs.