Your Omegas Are Mine 1| Euodia's Sun | Omegaverse Apocalyptic Reverse Harem

45-End of Chapter 14

Quinn

They were tugging her through alleyways, and then doors. Her body was slammed into a truck, tossed so clumsily her head snapped against the metal. Quinn crumpled to her knees the moment the shock came, electricity running through her neck.

The blood loss confused her, and her wound remained gaping, wide open. The tears filled her eyes almost immediately, a rush of hot rage at the screams from an Omega supervisor. Their words were accusatory they didn't want answers. And she knew they had settled on the outcome regardless of what she said.

Elysian wanted her to die, and she would die. The tears pricked in her eyes. She was fucked the moment she came here, there was no escape. It didn't matter if Float was with her, didn't matter if she was the best fucking slave they'd ever seen in their lives. One wrong move and her castle had fallen.

And Quinn had done nothing to deserve this. The Omegas were screaming, they stomped and roared. The smash of their weapons loud by her ears. She flinched at their attempts to get her to speak. WHAT DID YOU DO?

Her voice was odd, pitched and dry. "I showed him my hands, he drank from my wrist."

Beta! Do not lie!

There was a snap, a hiss and the pain was upon her again like a storm upon her skin. She screamed. The heat of it was blinding, blood bubbled free from her throat splattered down her lips. She heaved; oxygen lost from her throat. She was drowning.

What did you do?

"I showed him my hands, he drank from my wrist." Her voice bubbled from her throat, and she screamed. Blood pulsed in her throat, burned in her veins. She must have peed herself or vomited, Quinn didn't know.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

"I showed him my hands, he drank from my wrist."

The questions repeated, a rush of water was spilled cold and spicy over her face. It all seemed like a dream. A heated mess of never-ending torture that made every second longer. The darkness arrived, carried her in its hands. And then it was gone.

Her eyes were crusting. It hurt to wake as she inhaled and exhaled the hot heat. Her head had risen, lips dry. There was no anaesthesia for what they did to her, each thick needle pierced through each major artery. Reality hurt more than death, and they knew it did, relished with wicked smiles to the screams from her peers.

Her legs were parted, a thick tube shoved dry into her urethra. She gagged.

Her lids fluttered open once again and this time tears welled up in her eyes. Every part of her burned, ached like salt rubbed thick into raw open wounds. Her body hung from above tubes thick across her body. Quinn struggled to move but the pipes burned, sunk deep in her throat, her arms, and her ribs to harvest blood the quickest way possible. She was covered in them and stuffed deep in her throat was a feeding tube.

This was punishment for touching a King.

An endless death. She allowed a small, pained whine. Each breath was an inferno, and through the glass she could see the murky movements of Omegas, muffled chatter spilling through the partition. But no rage came, only a quiet forlorn acceptance. Escape was almost impossible. Float flickered before her, but even that seemed useless. She could burn through the tubes. But the glass enclosure would take a while to break, she could run but then what? How far were they from the wastelands? How far would she have to run?

God, Quinn was exhausted, tired of trying in another world of shitty, fucking men. All Quinn ever wanted from this world was peace.

Her eyes burned with tears.