Page 77 of Ruined Omega

I gesture at the Alphas to be quiet and to let me do the talking, then I turn back to the nameless omega.

“We need the keys,” I whisper. “Do you understand? Keys…”

The omega tilts her head like a confused dog.

“Come on,” I say.

I move along the perimeter of the cage and motion for the omega to follow. The Alphas follow too, a few paces behind.

As we come around to the place where the guards lie sleeping, the omega tenses briefly. She sniffs the air, then, overcoming her fear, she proceeds.

She is very brave.

I turn my attention to the sleeping guards. My guts are squirming with nervousness now. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what we will do. But after a moment of searching, my eyes find what I’m looking for. A glint of metal in the starlight. My heart leaps.

The keys.

“There,” I whisper in the softest voice I can manage. “Keys…”

I extend my arm through the bars, pointing at the iron key ring that one of the Farlander guards is holding loosely in his curled fingers.

The omega looks at my face, then at my pointing finger then, then back to my face again.

“Keys,” I whisper again and nod in the direction I’m pointing.

This time, the omega’s gaze follows the line of my finger and keeps going until she sees what I’m pointing at.

“Keez…” she breathes.

I nod eagerly.

The omega sucks in a deep breath, steadies her nerves, and moves forward on all fours like a prowling cat. Her tread is utterly silent. She pauses briefly to sniff the guards, then crouches over the one with the keys.

Her small hand reaches for the metal ring. She starts to lift it.

The guard stirs and mumbles in his sleep. The omega freezes, waits for him to settle again, then continues lifting the key ring.

My mouth is dry. I try to swallow, but my throat muscles don’t work. All I can do is stare wide-eyed as my anticipation tries to eat me from the inside out.

The omega gives the ring a light tug, but it doesn’t come free from the guard’s grip.

She tugs again, a little harder this time.

Nothing.

The Farlander’s fingers are hooked just enough to keep the metal ring in his grasp.

For a moment, a sense of defeat presses down on me. My heart drops into my gut with a silent thud.

But the omega doesn’t give up.

She takes a strand of her long, tangled hair and holding it like a brush, she tickles the fat of the Farlander’s palm. His fingers twitch once, twice.

The keys slip free with a faint jangle.

For a moment all of us freeze. Me. My Alphas. The omega. The tension in the air is palpable. We stare at the two guards, waiting to see if they wake up.

They don’t.