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Thunder crashes overhead, punctuating his words with nature's violence. My wound throbs, blood mixing with rain and slick as my body continues its betrayal.

Another wave builds, and this time I feel it—the moment when conscious choice starts slipping away. My vision blurs at the edges, rational thought fragmenting as biology takes control.

"Tick tock, little omega," Vex murmurs, his voice a dark caress. "How much longer do you think your mind will hold out against what your body needs?"

The answer terrifies me: not long.

I look up into those inhuman yellow eyes—predator's eyes, killer's eyes—and make the only choice that isn't really a choice at all.

"Do it," I whisper, the words tasting like ash and survival. "Claim me."

Something dark and hungry flashes across his features. "Say it properly."

Heat builds to a crescendo that makes thinking impossible. "Please," I gasp, hating myself for begging but unable to stop. "Please claim me. I need—I can't?—"

"You need my cock," he finishes, voice rough with satisfaction. "You need me to fill that empty cunt and knot you proper. Say it."

The words should shame me. Instead, they send another wave of desperate arousal through my overheated system. "I need your cock," I whisper, each word a small death. "Please."

"Good girl." The praise makes my core clench with need. "Now let's get you somewhere I can properly ruin you."

He lifts me fully into his arms, and despite everything—my fear, my rage, my humiliation—my body melts against his heat. The solid strength of an alpha who can handle whatever violence my heat will demand.

As he carries me deeper into his domain, one thought cuts through the biological haze: I am Amelia Miller, and I will survive this claiming.

Even if I have to become something else to do it.

"What's your name?" he asks as we move through the darkness.

"Amelia," I manage, my voice already thready with need.

"Amelia." He tastes my name like he's planning to devour it. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you in."

The promise should terrify me.

Instead, as another wave of heat rolls through me and my body prepares for the violent claiming to come, it sounds like exactly what I need.

CHAPTER 5

THE FIRST CLAIMING

Amelia's POV

The cave system swallows us whole, tunnels branching through living rock like arteries through a massive body. Vex navigates the darkness with predatory confidence while I memorize every turn, every junction—left, right, descending passage, fork left. Knowledge remains the one weapon they can never strip from me completely.

The air grows warmer as we descend, carrying scents that speak to careful habitation: wood smoke, preserved meat, the metallic tang of weapons maintenance. This isn't some primitive shelter but an established territory, maintained with methodical precision that contradicts everything I've been taught about Prime intelligence.

Heat builds in relentless waves, each surge stronger than the last. My skin feels like it's burning from the inside out, hypersensitive to every brush of his scales against my flesh. The wetness between my thighs increases with humiliating consistency, my body preparing for what my mind still rejects. A whimper escapes before I can stop it—high, needy, the unmistakable omega call that makes me hate my own voice.

"Listen to those pretty sounds," Vex growls, his pace quickening as his own scent sharpens with territorial satisfaction. "Your body knows what's coming."

His musk intensifies, becoming richer, more potent—the distinctive signature of an alpha entering rut. My treacherous biology responds instantly, another flood of arousal dampening my thighs despite the fear coursing through my veins. My head tilts sideways without conscious direction, exposing the vulnerable line of my throat in instinctive submission.

"Stop," I hiss through gritted teeth, fighting against biological imperatives that feel stronger than conscious will. "I'm not just some breeding vessel."

"Your cunt disagrees," he rumbles, breathing deep of the scent trail I'm leaving. "It's practically weeping for my knot."

The passage widens suddenly, opening into a chamber that destroys my assumptions about Chimeric living conditions. Stone walls rise into shadows that speak of significant height, while carved recesses hold an organized array of supplies—weapons hung with military precision, preserved foods in sealed containers, even books wrapped in protective cloth. Water trickles down natural formations into collection pools that reflect dim light from phosphorescent moss growing in careful clusters.