Merricks Book - The 12 Sectors - Redeeming Her Alpha (authors rough cut)

Chapter 9

Zinn

Survival of The fittest. 

He'd called her breeder. Although Zinn knew what the word meant, she didn't like it. Or him.

He smelled good—in a way that made her mouth water. A savory, spicy musk she'd never encountered and had no name for. There might be some pretty under that hair, too, but he was as horrible as any of the men from the valley. Not bothering to try to hide the fact that he'd planned to leave her and Petar to save himself and his own. Zinn knew his word might be meaningless.

Desperation lowered her to make hard choices. This choice would help them all. It had to. Putting distance between them as Mer opened the gate, Zinn forged ahead, leaving the two alphas to argue over who would carry the baby.

He said he wouldn't forget she'd trapped him into a bargain. She didn't know if he planned to hurt her or not. What would he do if he discovered the "lock" on the gate had only been a latch? Focused on the separation from his child, her trick slipped under his guard. If she'd tried to walk away with the little one, he would have found it, eventually.

The tunnel opened up to a deep crack of rocky incline. It was raining, adding difficulty and insult to their escape. As if things weren't bad enough, fate felt the need to spit on them, too. No matter.

From here, with a foreign part of the mountains facing her, Zinn wasn't sure where the other entrance to the warren was—behind them, somewhere.

Escaping her chores and grieving losses, Zinn had spent her time exploring the warren's creaky, gloomy places, uncaring if she risked her life. Hunger and cold feet always drove her back to the gathering room, warming herself in front of the ever-burning fire. Even if the group hated her, she still found more comfort in their salvaged home than she did alone.

Being alone worked under her skin and along her nerves, scratching at her mind with danger and uncertainty. Too much time alone, and Zinn felt like she lost a tether to reality.

That need for companionship worked against her lack of self-preservation. Despite knowing she'd lose him, she helplessly fell into caring about Petar. Before him, there were other children in the nursery. Helping raise them was a bittersweet wound. It hurt to recall their names.

Zinn suspected all the omegas had the same inborn need for the group, for sisters, alphas, and family. Powerless to resist this inner need, they grouped up together like herd animals in a storm, even if they hated each other or hated the need for companionship so much that they twisted it up to look like something else.

Breeders.

They taught her to think of males like Mer as studs—unsafe, clawing creatures. Cruel walking nightmares. It shouldn't upset her that there had been a term for her as well. Unacceptable. With the decision that Zinn would never have permission to breed, she'd resolved herself to unfulfilled dry heats.

"A pregnancy might harm deformed omegas. It might harm the child. Your body isn't whole or capable of motherhood." That's the message the elders and sirrah gave Zinn when her arm didn't improve after her maturation cycle.

The stud missed the message.

Mer would understand soon enough that she was only guessing where they were. He wanted to get back to the goat pit, and Zinn only had a vague idea of where it was—down, away from the warren and closer to the valley, where hungry males might hear the bleating of a goat.

The necessity to get away from Bastete and keep a distance from the male she'd bargained with, leant Zinn fresh energy. There were no stars in the dark sky, but she knew where the trees were, and had a decent sense of direction. If they followed the broken seam of earth with the trickle of water winding its way down through mossy rocks, they'd be going in the right direction.