Page 79 of Ruined Omega

I raise my hand in farewell, and the eyes blink twice, then disappear.

Something tells me that I haven’t seen the last of that mysterious, solitary omega. For now, however, our destinies lie on different paths. I have no clue where hers will take her. As for me, my destiny lies with the Alphas now, and our path leads to the ruins.

PART FOUR:

THE RUINS

CHAPTER 27: ABADDON

I’m looking at an empty cage.

The first orange spears of the sun are slanting over the eastern treetops, stretching long shadows from the rusted iron bars across the pit of mud where the Alphas and their omega are supposed to be.

But they aren’t there.

A fire burns inside my ribs.

“Who was standing guard?” Despite the rush of rage and adrenaline coursing through my veins, my voice is slow, steady, and cold.

“Gork and Mork were keeping watch, Master,” a Farlander says.

My gaze follows his pointing finger toward the two dead bodies sprawled on the ground a few paces away.

From the looks of it, they died a swift and relatively painless death. They are fortunate. Had my new pets escaped and left them alive, Gork and Mork would have weeks of torture to endure.

The need to punish someone, anyone, surges over me. I grab the Alpha who spoke by the throat, biting my fingers deep into the soft flesh beside his larynx.

“Don’t lie.” My voice is hoarse with anger. “They were not ‘keeping watch.’ They were clearly killed while they slept.”

The Farlander’s eyes bulge. His mouth opens and closes silently like a landed fish as he desperately tries to suck wind into his pinched throat. His terror and agony gives me little pleasure or solace. It is so paltry, so insignificant in comparison to my own.

With a quick, snatching motion, I tear his larynx out. Blood pours down his chest. Wet gurgling sounds issue from the ragged hole. He collapses, feet kicking briefly at the dirty ground, and then he is dead.

“Where is my witch?” I growl.

“Here, Master.” Her voice is a claw scraping on slate.

I turn toward the sound of her voice. She is inside the cage, her pale, thin legs shlucking through the deep mud. Her spiky black plumage shakes with each step. Something catches her eye. She stoops, extends one wiry, pallid arm, and picks at the muddy surface with her bone-talon.

“What have you got there, Sickorax?”

“Medicine,” she answers. “Outsider medicine. All melted now in the mud. Omega threw it away.”

Of course she did. The medicine is no use to her now. She is an omega with a pack of strong and resourceful Alphas to protect her and pleasure her. I’m sure she will bear them many strong litters of pups.

And they have me to thank. I am their matchmaker.

The thought sickens me.

It’s like a thousand fire ants eating their way out from the center of my guts. The hateful fire behind my breast bone burns brighter. The blood speeds through my veins. I am unable to restrain my rage any longer.

“FUCK!”

My roar is so loud it shakes the ground. So loud it rattles the iron of the cage. Hot, blood-tinged tears roll down my marred face.

“Fuck the Source! Fuck the cursed Zone! Dark gods, that I could only burn this festering canker off the face of the world!”

I grow silent, and the entire village grows silent with me.