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"G-games?" I stutter.
"We know you’ve been sneaking around South Loop, hanging with that gutter trash pack, Dante. But you will not make fools of us. We will not allow any omega of ours fucking around with that waste of space, pain in my ass, Red Dante," Kenneth snaps. "He thinks he’s such a champion. As if everyone doesn’t know what goes on in that club of his. It’s full of ripe omega pussy. He makes everyone think he’s a good guy, giving them a place to work."
Jonathan scoffs, "Right? How stupid do omegas have to be to think stripping is somehow a leg up in the world? I'm sure half those bitches are fucking the whole pack. Lucky bastards."
I swallow the rock in my throat, but their energy grows more intense as they work themselves up.
"We’re done letting you whore yourself out. Now, the wedding is only a couple of weeks away, and we think it’s about time you move in and start getting comfortable."
They don’t know Dante are here, I realize.
I haven’t been very careful, especially since I learned the truth about Stevens. They’ve obviously seen me out around South Loop with Dante or had someone tailing me, considering how high-profile Kenneth and Saul are. But they don’t know the truth, who Dante are to me.
They don't know that they’ll come for me. I wish we had bonded. They’d be here in seconds. But they’re right downstairs, I remind myself. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.
Kenneth twists my wrist, and I whimper, trying to pull away. "You need to let me go. Please. They’ll wonder where I’ve gone."
"No one gives a shit where you are."
"My mother—"
Saul laughs. "Where do you think we got this idea? We’re paying a lot of money for you, the last thing she wants is for you to sully your reputation before the wedding."
I tug my arm, but he doesn't relent. "I’m not marrying you, you lunatics! Let me go!" I screech, but with Devon blocking the door, Kenneth and Jonathan holding me down, and Saul watching me with disgust and a little bit of lust, I really start to panic.
There’s no way out, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I tug again, and he relents, so I run for the bathroom, hoping I can lock myself in until my mates come looking for me, but Kenneth’s big arms wrap around my waist, and he tosses me on the bed like this is just a game.
I scramble off but he barks, lacing his voice with alpha dominance, "Stop, Imogen! Sit!"
I immediately collapse, and it takes an effort to shake off the bark, but I keep struggling while Kenneth tugs me to one side of the bed.
I pull with all my might against Kenneth's iron grip, my pulse pounding in my ears. I'm powerless against his hold. My heart races in my chest, the rhythm echoing my rising panic, and my cries are useless as Kenneth tightens against me. Jonathan slowly pulls open one of the dresser drawers, and the soft sound of fabric whipping draws my attention over. My fear, a shaking beast inside me, transforms into genuine terror.
Kenneth holds my wrists while Jonathan ties the rope, binding them together. He roughly tugs my arms to the bedpost, tying both to the frame.
"Relax, Imogen. We aren’t going to hurt you. You’re our omega. But you’ve been misbehaving and need to be taught a lesson." Kenneth tuts, then pulls the ribbon out of my hair.
I scream, but Kenneth just rolls his eyes and barks, "Be quiet, Imogen!" My voice gets trapped in my throat. I can't breathe.
Jonathan takes the ribbon, and in a full circle moment, with my OFA identity as a perfect obedient omega who only did as she was told in hopes of a good life, they use the ribbon they made me wear to tie my ankles together, so tight it strains and digs into my skin.
"Please don’t do this," I beg.
"We’ll be sure to let everyone know you send your regards and will see them all at the wedding."
I scream. I scream at the top of my lungs, so loud I expect glass to shatter. But they just watch me, dead-eyed. Devon winks, then raps his knuckles against the wall. "Soundproof. Scream all you want."
Three of them quickly exit the room, but I keep screaming. The door shuts, locking me in with Saul. "I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’re not the same woman we met. I expect you to use this time wisely to find her because when we return, we will have a nice long talk about becoming that lovely ripe omega we paid for."
"I’m not a piece of property. You don’t own me!"
"That’s where you're wrong. Don’t worry about that now. We’ll see you after all the guests leave. And Imogen?" Saul says, just as his hand clasps the door knob. "I can’t wait."
When he opens the door to leave, I scream again, hoping my voice will carry, but then it’s shut, and I know the room is soundproof because it feels like a physical wall of deafening silence once they’re gone.
My wrists and ankles are bound, and I’m tied to the bedpost, so I can’t go far. And no one can hear me scream.
Is this what the world wants of their omegas? Blind obedience? If I misbehave, I’m tied up, barked at to be silent, to sit still?
