Page 3 of Retribution

I fucking hate her so much.

Ophelia insists on examining my body, going over it with a pair of tweezers for any hair that isn’t supposed to be there. The sting of pain is something I can barely feel since everything is numb from the frigid water earlier. It’s a small mercy.

“Dry off,” she mutters. “We have to do something with your rat’s nest.”

I’m surprised she hasn’t simply cut off my waist length hair. I’m not allowed simple things like a hairbrush, so she has to have someone detangle it. Other inventory omegas are allowed simplethings like a hairbrush, even their own blankets, but I swear she gives me blankets covered with the worst possible scents.

Please, someone please buy me.They don’t even have to keep me long, I’m more than happy to relieve them of their lives.

Chapter Two

Isolde

“Stand here and wait,” Ophelia demands.

There’s a very powerful alpha who has just dragged in his “too mature” omega through the door, and needs her attention immediately. I noticed he has beady, narrow dark eyes, and tawny hair that’s cut short and messy. I can see his wealth and privilege in his perfectly cut suit, shiny shoes, and intense gaze.

The omega who walks next to me with her gaze averted has long brown hair hiding her face, her body thin like mine. My heart aches for her. I doubt life will get much better for her now that she’s here.

The best option would be for her owner to take her back or to be sold immediately. The unknown is safer than what the omega would find here.

Leaning against the wall in the black, over the top lingerie Ophelia chose for me, I watch as they disappear into a back room. The corset on this top has a collar, a reminder of who I am. A slave. The entire outfit down to the thigh highs and lacegarters is hyper sexualized because that’s all I am for Jefferson City Auction.

I watch as omegas are hustled off to be prepped and primped, reminding me of the wavy curls my hair now lays in. Dark eye makeup is meant to make me appear sultry, but I’m not sure that Ophelia’s makeup artist hit her mark.

Everything about me screams ‘sex pot,’ while I feel weary instead. I can’t stand a moment more of this place, but force myself to bide my time and wait. Patience will get me the fuck out of here.

A very angry alpha bursts from the room, his pheromones sour as he strides out. My alpha pheromone blockers must be fading since I haven’t taken a dose in several days. I’m unsure if this is something Ophelia planned for, or if she simply forgot with the stress of this auction. It’s definitely a more high profile event than usual.

The omega who disappeared earlier into a room to say ‘goodbye’ I assume, reappears with Ophelia herding her to get ready to be sold. It’ll be a very quick process, something even I was denied after years of waiting to be sold. It shows that this girl means nothing to Ophelia outside of a paycheck, while she finds great pleasure in hurting me. This is personal for her.

The omega makes eye contact with me for a moment as she passes, her hazel eyes resigned to whatever fate is coming for her. Life has already broken her, it appears, and her last owner wasn’t very kind.

Maybe she’ll get lucky and find a good pack. I’m actually hoping for the opposite though so my blood lust can be appeased.

I get a chance to see her again as Ophelia marches her out in a white see-through bra and thong, surprising me. This omega is gorgeous, though she has to be freezing as well. The girl is also wearing a heavy collar around her throat. Fuck. She’s marchedout of my view to join the line of omegas waiting for their turn to walk across the auction stage.

I’m beginning to get a little worried that no one has come to drag me out there with the rest of the omegas, a cold sweat breaking out at my neck.

Did she change her mind?I can’t handle even one more night of “training.” My hopes are raised to be sold tonight. Please, don’t let something have happened to that plan.

Ophelia ignores me, the bitch, bustling around the back area ensuring everyone is where they need to be, all while I pretend not to care. She’s quite literally making me sweat. It feels as if the minutes are melting away, just like my possibility at freedom. The auction attendees are raucous and loud, the very ground underneath me vibrating from their yells as they bid excitedly.

Finally, Ophelia walks over to me, frowning. “Why are you still standing here?”

I simply gaze at her, because anything I could possibly say would get me backhanded. Blowing out a breath of frustration, she motions for me to follow her.

“It’s just as well for you to get the dregs of society,” she mutters. “Whoever is left out there will be looking for a deal.”

What she’s saying is that the crowd is getting rougher as the auction wears on. There are only three omegas left in front of me, and I hurry to keep up as the line moves. I don’t care who it is that buys me.

Please just get me out from these four walls.

Finally, it’s my turn, and my feet feel leaden as I force them to keep moving. I’m not wearing shoes, my feet only lightly protected by the thigh high stockings that I’m wearing. There are men and women alphas in the room, all of them lighting on me.

I’m the last omega. Fuck, there’s so much pressure there.

Turning to face them, I listen to the beta who is the auctioneer as he begins to speak.