Taken by the Alpha, page 1
part #1 of Knotted Omega Series
Taken by the Alpha
Knotted Omega 1
Laxmi Hariharan
Scarlette Brooke
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
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1
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Zeus
“Boo!” I bare my teeth.
The soldier cringes, and sweat beads his forehead.
“Really, Z?” My second-in-command narrows his gaze.
I raise my shoulders then let them drop. “Okay, a bit over the top.” But, cut me some slack, okay? I like to play with my prey.
Besides, I have a flair for the dramatic, one of the few redeeming features I inherited from my bastard of a father. Except, oh, wait, I was the bastard in that relationship, given he’d never acknowledged me…not until I had my fingers around Golan’s neck and recognition had dawned in his eyes. Too late, Pater. Thirty years too late.
The soldier’s skin is stretched so tight over his cheekbones that I expect it to crack any moment. The reek of piss stinks up the warehouse. The fool, clearly a beta by the way his shoulders are hunched, has wet himself.
I yawn aloud. The sound of my jaws cracking seems to snap the man into action, for he staggers forward, followed by his partner. They haul a rolled-up carpet between them.
Strings of thread trail from the edges to sweep over the wooden floor. The patchwork on the outside of the carpet is peeling. The fabric seems so innocuous, so unassuming, it’s precisely that which sends all of my instincts on alert.
A sliver of awareness ripples over my skin. Thud, thud, thud, my heartbeat accelerates. The fine hair on my neck rises.
What the bloody hell? I can’t take my gaze off that damn rug. “Unfurl it.”
The edge of impatience in my tone must have signaled the impending flare of temper, for Ethan, my second moves forward—not that the soldiers will dare try anything. The stripes on their vests mark them out as emissaries of the Leader of Scotland, and Kayden doesn’t have the balls to put them up to breaking into my stronghold. I drum my fingers over my chest. Nah! It’s exactly the kind of move, I’d expect that twat to try to pull off.
Adrenaline laces my blood. I curl my fingers into fists.
That piece of shit wants me out of the way so he can take over my position. Well, he and most of those gathered here. Don’t everyone rush all at once. I snicker.
The Scot nearest to me pales.
He expects me to kill him. The body count I’ve left behind in the past year ensures that most fear me. But I might spare these men; for now, and only because it keeps them guessing about when they are going to die. Can't have them getting too comfortable now, eh?
I lean forward on the balls of my feet.
The sudden movement draws a gasp from the beta. He bends and places his side of the rolled-up cloth on the floor. The other man follows.
I take a step forward. Honestly, I don’t show any other outward sign of threat. I don’t even peel back my lips, or speak…well, okay, I glare at the soldier on the right.
With an audible gulp, he turns and scampers down the big hall toward the still open doors. His partner blinks then scoots after him. My gaze is already on the piece of fabric left behind.
“I don’t think it’s wise to open it, General,” Ethan warns.
Since climate change unleashed tsunamis and wrecked Earth’s sublayers thirty years ago, trace metals all but vanished. Electronics can no longer be powered up, and technology collapsed, leaving no means of communicating. The only way to check what’s inside that rug is the old-fashioned way. To open it.
“Consider yourself heard.” I crack my neck from side to side. “You’ve done your duty, Second, so can we get this charade over with?”
Sure, his concern is genuine, and yet it doesn’t sit easily with me.
Not since he betrayed the ex-General, aka my dear departed father, by aiding me in killing the old man.
“Allow me, sir.” Solomon, my third, grabs the open seam of the curled-up mat. He heaves, but it doesn’t budge.
Ethan moves to the other side, and together they tug at it. The cloth unfurls…and flattens out into a pool of turquoise and green.
The illumination from the solitary skylight far above floods over it and the entire rug shimmers.
My pulse races. The breath catches in my throat. My heart hammers and I am sure it’s going to jump out of my ribcage.
The next second, a figure springs up from the carpet and launches itself at me. Head bent, dressed all in black. There’s a blur of movement, and a blade whines through the space.
I slide aside.
The breeze displaced by the stranger shimmers over my neck. A flash of pain cuts through me as the blade nicks my skin.
I thrust out my leg, and the intruder goes sprawling to the floor, only to turn in a move which should have been near impossible.
It calls attention to the lithe lines of the body that is wrapped in that jumpsuit. The figure launches itself back at me, and I bend my knees and throw the intruder over my shoulder.
There’s a thump, then the sword skitters across the wooden floor.
I swivel around and close the distance to where the infiltrator leaps up from the center of the carpet.
The colors fade, the room shrinks around me. My vision narrows in on the face, to where the dark cloth has unraveled from around the head of the newcomer. Eyes of shattered green blaze at me.
The hair on my nape rises.
It’s her, the woman from my dreams.
A strand of dark-red hair slinks free.
The scent of rain on cool dawn air bleeds through the space, interlaced with that sugary essence of slickness.
Blood rushes to my groin.
Every instinct inside me goes on alert. “Omega,” I rasp.
2
Lucy
I lift my chin, then farther up, then all the way up, to meet his gaze. To call the General massive is an understatement. He is a monster. A man-mountain, the biggest, most powerful alpha I have ever seen.
His blue eyes blaze at me.
A ripple of fear mixed with something else—lust? Anticipation? —tightens my stomach.
His face is all hard planes and dark angles. Long black hair flows to his shoulders. His lower lip is full, obscenely so. It should soften his looks; instead, it only heightens the sense of danger that clings to him like a rich coat.
It’s the exact opposite of the faded vest that embraces his torso.
His clothes strike a jarring note in the middle of the most prosperous pocket of this city, which is where we are, but it suits this alpha. Declares exactly what he is: an asshole who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else.
Who takes pleasure in surprising his friends and outwitting his enemies—no, he doesn’t have friends…doesn’t need friends…or lovers or… How would he be as a lover? A dominant? A male who’d take without mercy? That feminine, omega core of me quivers in anticipation.
A pulse flares to life between my thighs.
An age-old instinct deep inside awakes…and insists this alpha will pleasure me. He’ll bite me, lick me, suck me…and a piercing wave of desire twists my stomach.
Heat flushes my skin, and yet I feel cold, so cold.
I try to take a step forward, but my feet feel weighed down.
The alpha thrusts out his chest, and the force of his dominance crashes over me.
My breath catches.
I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but stare at his face, drink in his features. Open my heart and absorb every last particle of impact that his sheer charisma has on me.
I want to trace that long, hooked nose of his. To close the distance between us and bite his square, pronounced jaw. Lick it, nibble on it, then pull his head down between my thighs until his hard whiskers rub across my sensitive core.
Heat floods my skin.
My nipples tighten.
I don’t need to look down at my breasts to know they’re thrusting out, their sharp edges a palpable outline against the material.
He must know the effect he has on me, for the strong cords of his throat ripple. His sculpted chest seems to widen as he straightens and plants his arms on his trim hips. His powerful shoulders block out the sight of the room. His entire presence sucks up the air in the space. The strength of his personality is a visceral force that crashes into me and threatens to overpower me. I want to reach for the throbbing space between my legs and relieve the pressure that is building in my womb. What is happening to me?
“Do you know what I do to those who challenge me?” He growls.
The rich sound grates over my sensitized nerve endings and shudders straight to my center.
My thighs quiver, my stomach trembles, and I thrust my pelvis forward in blatant invitation. What the hell? It seems my body has already arrived at a decision and the rest of me is struggling to catch up.
I grit my teeth. “I am sure you are going to tell me.” Every instinct in me tells me to cower…to give in to him. But I cannot. Will not. The part of me that is honed to fight back, insists I resist.
I jut out my chin.
My heart pounds in my rib cage, and a pulse flares to life between my thighs.
He growls again, and the sound tugs at my nerves. The vibrations roll over me and surround me. Cocooning me in the center.
It’s like nothing I have ever heard before.
Moisture pools in my core. The scent of slick bleeds into the air. I gasp. No, not now. I can’t be heading straight into a heat cycle, not when I am here on a mission. Is it the adrenaline of the attack that has brought on this sudden wave of need?
His lips, those sensuous lips, tighten.
A vein throbs at his temple, and his cheeks flush as he looks down at me from his superior height.
I should feel emboldened that I am having an effect on him, the most powerful alpha in all the land, but instead a writhing need to challenge him tears at me. To ask him. To give in to his every demand. And that confuses me.
“You are an omega but not a submissive?” He frowns.
The hackles of my neck rise. I had not expected this alpha to figure that out.
Genetic mutation brought on by climate change has divided the human race into three subspecies: alphas, betas, and omegas, and I happen to belong to the weakest of them. But the warring sides of my personality have made me an anomaly in this world where alphas take, and omegas are raised with the expectation of being bred.
“It’s why you should let me go. I am not suitable for reproduction.” My stomach trembles, my palms begin to sweat. I am trying to rationalize with a savage.
Accelerated cellular transformation over the past few generations has equipped the alphas with the ability to knot the omegas and increase the chance of impregnation.
As for omegas, the onset of heat cycles at puberty compel most to seek out an alpha to rut them through it. Nature’s way of balancing out the dwindling population count, helped by the fact that heat suppressants are banned. Even black market supplies of the precious chemicals have run out.
I’d managed to hide myself away during the worst of these phases, had never felt compelled to lay with any alpha, not until this monster.
I need him, yet I want to fight him.
I must show him he can’t just take. Not without paying a price first. Not without begging, pleading, making me scream.
Anticipation stretches my belly.
An age old instinct inside me jolts to life. My core clenches. My knees quake, and I push my boot-clad feet into the dirt for purchase.
He angles his head and peels back his lips. “On the contrary, it renders the entire process so much more interesting.”
There is so much cruelty in his look…so much lust…so much everything.
My skin tightens.
Every single emotion that I have fought against my entire life, denied myself, all of it drips from his gaze.
I can’t tear my gaze away.
I clench my fingers, my muscles strain, and I try, once more, to move. It only sends another pulse of pain through me. Being in this particular alpha’s presence is weighing me down, making me feel like I am already in his control.
How is that possible?
The General takes a step forward, and his scent slams into me. Earthy, woodsy, and liberally laced with pheromones.
I am sure he can see every single emotion, every nuance of the feelings that tremble over me right now.
My belly clenches. My womb spasms. Slick pools between my legs and slides down my inner thighs.
His nostrils flare. He leans back on his heels. One side of his lips rises in a smirk.
The alpha knows exactly what he wants. His eyes gleam. His features flush.
Fear twists my insides. My limbs tingle.
It’s as if I am watching everything unfold in front of me from a distance.
Setting my jaw, I square my shoulders, only for another burst of pain to radiate out from my center.
I arch my back, thrust my breasts out at the keening need that grips me.
I wrap my arms around my waist and cannot stop the groan that ripples up my throat. Even to my own ears it feels more like an invitation, a call to the alpha to do what he was born to do to an omega. To mate me, knot me, and make that pain inside me go away.
To fill that emptiness that is once again writhing, gnawing, and tearing at me, growing inside me with every passing millisecond until it feels like I am one big mass of yearning that will not stop. Not until he slams into me, and no, no, no! This can’t be happening.
I’d starved myself of food for days to weaken my libido; I’d also calculated the time of the month to make sure I am between heat cycles. I hadn’t counted on the proximity to this particular alpha sending me straight into one.
My head spins with the overload of endorphins that my overwrought nervous system is dumping into my blood. All brought on by his presence. Him. He’s the reason why my body is responding with such primal need. The omega in me recognizes him. Only him.
My pulse thuds in my head; my vision blurs.
Pain cramps my womb, and I double over.
The shortage of omegas has led to alphas exploiting them, taking them at will. As he no doubt intends to overpower me now.
I will not let him do that. I straighten in time to see the General stalk toward me. His masculine presence tugs at my nerves, pushes down on my skin, sinks into my blood. My head spins.
Heat sweeps over my skin and heads to my lower belly. My core weeps.
All of my life I have tried to deny that I am an omega: the receiver, the nurturer whose insides are ravenous for an alpha’s touch, who has been deprived of the sensory stimulation that only comes from an alpha’s rut. Now, his scent, that concentrated testosterone, sinks into my blood, forcing a reaction.
The General growls.
It’s a long, drawn-out purr that seems to emerge from the very depths of his masculine body.
The hair on my neck stands on end.
Liquid need radiates out from my womb, bleeds through my skin, and flares up in the air around me.
My womb cramps, and a fresh burst of slick gushes down between my legs to wet my pants. I don’t dare look down, don’t dare acknowledge the liquid pooling under me.
I should be mortified, ashamed at my public display of what I am…an omega meant to be mated and bred, who cannot physically hold back her reaction, not in the presence of this prime male specimen, and yet the survivor in me says I need to fight. Fight! My shoulders shudder, and I straighten my spine.
The General slams his fist to his chest. “Leave us,” he roars.
The aggression comes off him in waves, surrounding me, cocooning me. Is he trying to shield me from the sight of his own men?
Footsteps sound, then fade away. Of course they'd rush to obey him. No one will dare stand up to him, and I'd walked into this predator's lair and challenged him. Sweat beads my palms.
The doorway to the warehouse slams shut. The echo resounds through my head. The blood thumps at my temples. A pulse flares to life between my legs.
“You scared?” His voice bleeds through the space.
"What do you think?" I grit my teeth.
"I think I am going to enjoy breaking you." He peels back his lips, and my knees tremble. The fine hair on my nape stands up.
