Page 3 of Bad Omega

Over the generations, criminal alphas were exiled from the tribe and forced to live on the outskirts of the Zone, out near the Wall. The power of the Source is weaker out there, and with time the Farlanders became twisted, both in body and in mind. It’s said they eat betas to survive. Some of them even eat other alphas.

What they do to omegas, I’d rather not say.

The one standing in front of me looks like something that crawled up out of the depths of the earth. Wet clay has been smeared all over his body and left to dry into a flaky, gray-brown skin. His face is even worse. The mud has been laid on thick, obliterating almost everything human about it. It fills the hollows of his cheeks and has crusted around his nostrils. His mouth is nothing but a dark fissure. Only his eyes seem alive, wet and bright beneath the cracked mud.

I turn and look back at the three young alphas who were chasing me.

They’ve come to a halt a few paces behind where I’m sitting. Their eyes are every bit as wide as my own, and they only get wider as more figures emerge from the depths of the forest.

Source, there must be a dozen or more, all of them slathered in mud like their leader, all of them reeking of the same putrid scent. Their weapons are primitive, even by Zone standards—little more than sharpened sticks, really—but they look deadly enough, and they are pointed at me and the three young alphas.

The leader laughs: a dark, ugly sound.

“Looks like we caught ourselves an omega, boys…” His nostrils flare as he takes my scent. “And a ripe one at that.”

He’s technically wrong: I may be grown, but I still haven’t gotten my first estrus yet. Then again, these Farlanders probably have a different definition of ripe.

I spring to my feet and slowly walk back to the three young alphas. Not that they’ll be able to offer me much protection. I suddenly feel awful for getting them into this mess.

Getting yelled at by my daddies is one thing.

Getting brutalized by Farlanders is something else entirely.

“You should run for it,” I tell them under my breath. “It’s me they want.”

“No, omega. We won’t leave you.”

I appreciate the young alphas’ chivalry, but I doubt their ability to live up to it. Even in single combat, they would be no match for these big Farlanders. And outnumbered four to one? No chance.

Not that it makes much difference, I suppose. The Farlanders clearly have no intention of letting any of us get away. They have us surrounded. No matter which way we turn, a spearpoint blocks our escape.

The leader steps in close, getting right up in my space. His breath is rotten meat.

“What are you little pups doing out here in the woods alone?”

I don’t answer. Neither do the young alphas.

The Farlander sneers.

“Looking for someplace to do a bit of rutting, I reckon. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Ain’t that right, boys?”

His underlings chuckle in agreement.

“Come here,” the leader says. “Let me get a good whiff of you.”

I stiffen as he grabs me by the arms and leans in close to snuffle me. One of the young alphas steps forward with a snarl of challenge, but a spear tip presses against his throat, stopping his advance. The flesh dimples around the sharpened point. Just a little more pressure, and he would be in a world of hurt.

The leader looks at him and grins.

“Don’t worry, lad. We aren’t gonna kill you. Not ’til we’ve finished having our way with the omega, leastways. You’ll get a chance to watch everything. Behave yourselves, and we might even let you have a go at her before you die.”

Then he lifts a handful of my hair, sniffs it.

“Smells sweet,” he says. “Better’n that Farlander cunt we’re used to.”

The others rumble with excitement.

The leader draws a knapped stone dagger from a sheath on his hip and raises it to my chest. One by one, he snips the laces holding the front of my top together. When the last one goes, the top bursts open, and my naked breasts spill free. His eyes get big.