Page 67 of The Forgotten

And yet, the slutty omega in my mind whispers that I should slow down just a little. If they catch me, I’d let them fuckme. Everything hurts, and I can tell that this is going to be a particularly bad heat.

If I can just get up to my apartment, I can call the police from the safety of my nest. I’ll be sure to warn them that I’m in heat so they won’t expect a statement from me either. I have a date with my toys. Jumping on a box, I leap for the bottom rung of the fire escape and begin pulling myself up.

Just because I work with men, doesn’t mean I’ve never changed a keg out by myself. I’m strong, curvy, and in so much trouble.

Steel wrapped arms slam into my waist, the force short circuiting my brain as I scream. My fingers slip from the ladder, and I begin to fall, this alpha’s arms still around my waist.

He must have had to have leapt after me to catch me.

“What the fuck?!” I wail, twisting to rain blows down on his shoulders and face. His hood is shoved back, and I catch a glimpse of blue, spiked hair before I hear a gasp.

Pushing me against the wall, the blue haired alpha wraps his fist in my hair before slanting my mouth to the side to slam his mouth down on mine.

It says a lot as my body burns with my heat that I melt slightly to kiss him back. I can taste a hint of apples as his tongue grazes mine. His mask is molded to his face, and my hands fist his hoody.

“Are you done fighting us now?” the honeyed voice smirks.

The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. Punching him in the gut, I push him away and dart around him, only to be caught up in another alpha’s arms. Their scents smell familiar, but I can’t stop freaking out long enough to figure out why.

Everything is jumbled. Hunching over in his arms, I scream as pain rips through me. These men shouldn’t know my name, and I don’t know why they do.

The pain is just too much.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, his voice almost muffled.

“Fuck, she smells so good. Her scent has always made me wild, but now…”

“You’re an omega,” the alpha holding my arms says, almost stumbling back. “Why?—”

“Why am I an omega?” I ask. I can smell his deep mocha scent, and all I want to do is drop to my knees to find out if his cum will taste the same. I’m really losing the plot, and when that happens, my sarcasm gets thicker. “I shouldn’t have to explain the birds and the bees to you, big guy.”

I can feel my energy sapping as I shove his arms off me. Glancing at the fire escape, I admit to myself that I’m fucked, without the orgasms and knots that usually come with it. I’m not going to be able to get away.

“I need to go,” I wheeze, my arm wrapping around my waist.

The fever of my heat makes me feel sick, and I turn as I puke on the ground. It’s vile and tastes disgusting. Tears slide down my face as I feel sorry for myself. I’m trapped with no escape. These alphas could do anything to me.

I don’t think I’d have the strength to say no. All I want is to be fucked against the wall, holes filled with knots. My heat feels like a cresting wave that’s threatening to crash over me.

Once it does, I won’t be able to resist what comes next. That’s the terrible thing about limiting my heats. It means that I risk getting hit with a heat that might rob me of my voice. That’s a scary thing to have happen with strangers.

It’s been a danger that I’ve been flirting with for about a year, and I think I may finally have to pay the Piper.

Gazing up, I expect to see disgust, but instead, the alpha half holding me up pulls down his hoody sleeve to wipe my mouth and hands me a flask.

“It’s not water, but it’ll help with the taste, baby,” he says.

Taking it, I pull away from him and take a deep drink, swirling it around in my mouth. Spitting it out, I take another sip of the whiskey in the flask and swallow. I’m already in deep trouble.

The time to run is long past.

I have two alphas in my view, and it’s when the last one molds his chest against my back that I whine pathetically. A woodsy scent wraps around my body, making me want to climb him like a tree.

The flask drops from my numb fingers, and the alpha in front of me catches it quickly. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear a word. My ears are ringing with anxiety, my body begging to be taken care of.

I’ve survived worthless alphas touching me to get through a heat. Strangers fucking me in an alley would simply be the cherry on the sundae to show how far I’ve fallen.

Black spots pepper my vision as the alpha behind me drags his tongue along my skin. Fingers deftly open my pants, he ignores the warning growls from the men surrounding us as he pulls down the zipper and shoves his hand deep inside my pants.