Page 16 of Omega Ruined

I reached for the door, ready to barge in and claim our woman, but the handle didn't turn. "Open it now!" I barked at Josh, who took a step back, dismay on his face.

"She's not here," he said worriedly. "This one ran and she's being punished."

"Our omega is being punished?" Kienan looked ready to tear the building down. "Go get her."

"I-I can't," Josh stuttered. "She's in the basement and no one can get down there except Brandon. And if she goes missing from the hole, they'll know someone let her out."

Kienan and I looked at each other, eyes wild. I'd never felt this close to insanity before.

I need that omega. Now.

"When does her punishment end?" I asked shortly.

"In a week?"

"We'll be expecting your call." Kienan spun on his heel and started marching toward the elevator.

"Wait, there are still two floors. Maybe you want a different one?" Josh called hopefully.

"Nope." Kienan stepped into the elevator and I got on after him. Josh scrambled toward us, but we were already on our way down.

We ignored the confused receptionist and marched out to the car before Kienan peeled out of the parking lot. Moments later, we'd cleared security and were speeding down the highway.

"I didn't imagine that, right? She's our mate?" I asked, suddenly worried. What if I'd been thinking about this for so long that any decent-smelling omega appealed?

"She's ours," Kienan agreed. "Now we just need to get her home."

Chapter ten

The Hole

Time had no meaning in the hole. The darkness closed in on me, making it feel like a physical presence that pressed against my skin. The only way to keep it from turning fear into outright panic was to reach out and touch the walls, the metal door, and to think about things I'd seen and done. Basically, your brain could help you escape, even if you were still stuck in the tight space.

From time to time, a slot in the door would slide open with a painful screech and a plate would be shoved through. If I didn't grab it right away, the guard would let go and the plastic plate would topple to the ground, dumping the small amount of food onto the dirty floor. That only happened twice in the beginning. After that, I held my hands under the slot when I heard the footsteps in the hall outside.

The food was nothing like what the cafeteria served. I swore it was made up of whatever leftovers omegas didn't eat. Drying mashed potatoes, stale bread with a smear of peanut butter that had obviously been out so long it was crusted over, andlimp, lukewarm vegetables that tasted like they'd been reheated multiple times.

I couldn't prove it, but I figured the guard came roughly once a day, judging by how hungry I was by the time that plate of food came through the slot. The lights in the hall were always the same, so there was no good way to tell and the one time I asked, my food was thrust so violently at me that it fell into the drain. Even with my stomach rumbling, I wasn't brave enough to eat it after that.

With nothing else to do, I spent a lot of my time lost in the bonds. They were fainter now, but I could feel the men's happiness. They didn't seem to worry one bit about the omega they'd so callously thrown away. Instead, I felt the warmth and love they should have shown me, but directed at another.

Sleep was another escape. I drifted in and out of dreams, some of them good, most of them bad, until it became my preferred method of checking out.

Until the day when the entire door was pulled open and the hall lights blinded me.

"Back to work, bitch." A guard grabbed my arm and hauled me up.

My legs wobbled, despite my attempts to pace my tiny cell for the first while. Then I'd given up. The fact that I could barely stand made me wonder if my punishment had been longer than anticipated.

"Stop acting weak and get moving." He jabbed me in the back with a familiar rod and my entire body spasmed from the electrical shock.

By the time we made it up the stairs to my room, I was tripping over every step and getting a tongue lashing from the guard.

"Clean yourself up, you have an alpha in half an hour," he sneered, shoving me into the room and pulling the door shut.

For a long minute, I just sat on the floor, trying to process the abrupt change from darkness to light, from dank, musty air to the freshly cleaned scent in my room. When my head stopped spinning, I scrambled to my feet and staggered into the bathroom.

The old, smelly robe went straight into the laundry and I stepped under the hot water, luxuriating in how nice it felt. But time was limited and I had to hurry and scrub myself from head to toe, shampooing my hair twice to get it fully clean. When I was satisfied that I no longer smelled like the dungeon, I dried off and donned the fresh, new robe hanging on the back of the door.