Quinn returned with blood on her tongue, and water sluiced over reddened skin.
A thick acrid fluid had been tossed over her frame to end the sweetness of Heat. Warm sewage poured down the sodden remains of her frock. The stench burned in her nose, but only the waste of Alphas could end the scent of the most revered Omega in the city.
Rowan's scent had been heavy, had grown richer with his orgasm; sticky and pumping with the pheromones that begged for an Alpha's knot. Just the tiniest whiff of his perfume could bring forth the all-consuming urge to dominate and mount.
If Quinn were to return to the House of Fern as drenched in his scent as she was, the Alphas could have gone feral, choosing to breed her instead in their blind search for a ripe Omega. For Rowan's nutty goodness had clung to her hair like a vice even when urine was smeared across her flesh, and her body was rubbed with ash and doused in ice.
It took a couple more tries for her to be truly freed from his Heat, and through it all she'd been docile and kneeling, not an ounce of complaint spilling from her lips. This had pleased the Omegas, and their treatment only grew kinder as they scrubbed her skin raw. Their smiles had stretched over their cheeks as she allowed their manhandling.
'I wouldn't mind a Beta,' some had whispered, bidets in hand. 'She's so docile, so quiet. Like a little lamb.'
'Perhaps, I could talk to my pack,' was the giggly reply. 'It would be so easy to have her.'
Quinn had resisted the urge to scowl, fist clenching briefly as she listened.
Mina had been all smiles—one that stretched so far across her face that gums showed. Her Alpha leader had been pleased. Quinn was a fat, juicy prized pig sent out for slaughter. And surely, Mina as the head rancher, must have received the spoils of the kill.
A hundred stamps had been Quinn's rewards, stars that sent her soaring towards a higher-ranked D that bordered at the edges of a C. She could have easily climbed the ranks if not for her own inability to reproduce like a normal Alpha. Her lack of Ruts was a weakness that hindered her independence and ability to roam the streets.
This had her scowling, her fingers wrinkling the edges of her result slip.
But she didn't care for the prestige, cheeks paling as she read on. Quinn was to be freed from her post as a mere cleaner attached to a nameless mass. She would now enter the realms of dedicated servitude.
She was to be a blood slave.
Blood slaves were Alphas that showed exemplary control.
They were docile and quiet, and hence allowed to exist mildly in society. Her face could be seen, and Omegas would learn her features, taste her fluids. There would be no bags to store her blood, but pipes would remain attached to her skin like a cork to a keg.
Quinn was to be drank from; She would be fresh like a cow in a dairy, an orange juiced in a vending machine. She would be pumped from only when necessary. Quinn was to be stationed behind a café, chained to the ground beside roasting beans, and warming tea leaves. She would be a novelty and a choice on the menu.
A walking blood bag of convenience.
She'd gagged, offended, horrified. It seemed that after weeks of new Alpha blood bags, the vampires were now open to the idea of drinking from an Alpha. And there was a push for a group to be stationed at eateries. A buffet of girls.
A need for the freshest supply.
How disgusting.
Quinn had tried her best to keep herself still, but the tremble had begun in her joints. The panic surfacing once again. The horror that clouded her features had forced a bead of sweat free. Her reward was to be a pet, to be chained to the ground with her fluids extracted from her like some sick, twisted foreplay. Her body churned, the fear of recognition returning to her mind.
They'd find her, rip her beating heart from her chest.
Perhaps there was no need to be concerned. Her brows had furrowed. After all, the Omegas had seen her face again and again. Yet her cover had remained, and no one seemed to be able to identify her status. But she couldn't be too sure, not with the bruises fading from her cheek, purples turning yellow.
"Isn't it delightful?" Mina had chirped, seemed to mistake her fear for excitement. "You'll meet so many Omegas! Go to so many places! You'll have a pack soon, no doubt. I've seen the places you've been assigned to." Her voice dropped into a whisper, low but perky. "They're frequented by strong, influential Omegas. If one of them were to choose your blood, they could pick you—"
"Of course," she'd answered, her voice so solemn it would have seemed as if Mina had announced the day of her death. "I am grateful for the opportunity." Her eyes had grown downcast, fake cheer in her voice. "Thank you."
Quinn had returned to the house, forlorn and silent with only the eyes of her fellow Alphas burning into her skin. The flooded beginnings of jealousy stewed in their depths for her luck, her higher rank, and her abilities.
They heard the rumours, knew that she'd been given some opportunity to excel. And somehow had managed to conclude that she'd contacted an Omega in Heat from the scent of Alpha so heavily pushed into her skin. The snarls were on their teeth.
To end it all, Quinn had given them an idiotic smile, hands pulling out her stamps. Her money was exchanged for a jar of salty spread for their meals. The dark sticky paste dolloped upon a plate over a dinner of gruel and shared with as many as she could.
It made the stale, sticky watery meal taste just a little better. And her tongue heavy with the pungent ferment of the coagulating salt. But even then, she'd toyed with each cloudy mouthful, more water than it was grounded seed. And it slopped, wet and gooey on her spoon with a blunt acidity of brassy coins and the rust of metal.
Her lips pursed, disgusted, but the Alphas by her side swallowed it all down as if it were chicken or beef.
How did you do it? Their glares had transformed into awed beams, they'd clambered around her, whispering their questions. How do you do so well? She'd pursed her lips, folded hands as she cleaned off her plate, resisted the urge to retch. But there could be no show of disgust for the food, not in the eyes of so many who had been so thankful for the meal.
"I have a technique for the scrubbing. Five times to each tile, with the weight of your body on your hands," she'd answered, a feigned motion of her wrist. God, they'd kill her if they knew. She cleared her throat then, deciding to add on more. "And I am very strong from my time in the wastelands."
They'd agreed to that, nodding. They had all known of her prowess as a scavenger and couldn't deny that she was stronger and smarter than they were. And she released a low sigh of relief, expelling the tension as they bought her story.
"You must be overly polite, spend most of your time speaking to an Omega prostrated on the floor. Kiss the floor, and you should be on the right track."
To this they'd laughed, seemed oddly reassured, shaking their heads. Then, what was it like to see an Omega in Heat?
"Good," she'd answered, "I didn't see anything, I was on the ground, bowed. He smelled sweet. I cannot say more because I am Beta, and my nose is not as good as yours. And that was the only reason why I was allowed into that room." Quinn had feigned a small sad smile, shook her head as if she truly hadn't seen a thing. "The Omega did not care for me even when in Heat. I am inadequate as an Alpha, and they all know this." The truth flickered in her mind, danced in her eyes as she lied. "I worked fast and left quickly."
God, she'd left after she'd shoved a dildo in Rowan's ass, watched him squirt and squeal through his orgasm. His cock throbbing—Quinn swallowed, smile twitching. Her words seemed to appease them, their smirks growing at her own lament.
A chortle rising from the crowds as hands ran across her shoulders, fists slammed against her flesh in jest. But the tiny punches were far too hard for just friendly play. Their envy continued thrumming through their souls but their egos were boosted, the knowledge that she was never competition in the first place quelled their need to dominate.
And her words and actions were enough for her to go to sleep that night with no knives at her throat.
Quinn had pulled Float free, released a steady breath when it hovered before her eyes blinking blue. She'd glanced at the dwindling currency from Solar's generous donation, scowled and wrinkled her nose.
There was no way she could afford to pay off the Alphas forever. And perhaps it was her mistake for beginning the expectation that she would share her bounties; however, it was also the quickest way to get into their good graces. And it seemed like a good decision to allow her peers to believe that her benefits would become theirs.
Her eyes turned to the Hearts, widened at the five new sparkling pink icons. She didn't know how she'd earned them, had fed nothing to the system. But she made quick work to browse the store looking at her options. Her breath caught in her throat when her fingers hovered over the item of her dreams.
Hiding in Plain Sight- With this turned on, Omegas will not be able to recognise the user, and will quickly forget them within a day. The effect of this weakens with love, and soulmates will always recognise their other half.
She'd snorted at the line as the purchase was made.
Perfect.