Page 62 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

I step inside, slam the door shut behind me, and run upstairs two at a time.

My old bedroom greets me with all my childhood comforts—soft lavender walls, an overstuffed chair in the corner, childhood books still stacked on the shelf, and my desk is filled with journals and old letters to my friends.

Even my grandfather’s old golden letter opener still sits right where I last left it.

It’s like time completely stopped in this room, but right now, it doesn’t do much to settle my nerves.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking and throat tight.

Almost immediately, the back door opens downstairs, squeaking loudly. I hear my mother first, then I hear him . His voice is deep, syrupy, and fake.

“I’ll check on Autumn,” Tallen says smoothly, like he’s doing everyone a favor. “Sometimes an omega needs a tender word from her alpha. ”

My mother murmurs something in response. I can’t make out her words, but her tone… God. She sounds pleased. Hopeful, even.

The floor creaks beneath heavy feet. My blood runs cold.

No.

No, no, no ? —

I jump up and spin toward the door just as it opens without a knock.

Tallen fills the doorway like a threat, tall and broad and radiating smug authority. His scent rolls in after him—cloying and sharp, making my skin crawl.

Every instinct in me is screaming to drop to my knees and sob, but I refuse. Instead, I force myself to square my shoulders. To face him…and it physically hurts.

“Please get out of my room,” I whisper, unable to talk any louder.

Tallen doesn’t respond. He just looks at me. His jaw tight and nostrils flaring like he’s barely keeping himself together.

“You embarrassed me in front of your father,” he finally says, stepping into my childhood bedroom. “That little comment about my pack?” He closes the door behind him. “That was rude, Autumn.”

“I’m not yours,” I say, voice shaking. “I’m not your mate.”

He snarls—low and guttural. The sound hits me like a whip, and I flinch without thinking. My legs move, backing me up until my butt hits the edge of my desk.

Tallen’s eyes flash with something dark and hot. “You are mine. Your parents already gave permission.” He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a folded slip of paper. “I have the claiming form right here. Signed and sealed.” He opens it, showing me both my parents’ signatures.

Shock, then defeat, slaps me in the face, and my whole body goes numb.

Tallen takes in the look on my face, then the bastard smiles, slow, like he’s loving this. “All I have to do is drop this off with the Beechworth administrators, and you’re officially mine.”

I flinch, struggling to believe this is really happening.

“Do you think the academy will stop me?” His eyes flash like he’s feeding off my fear. “At your age? With parental consent? They’ll hand you over before the ink dries. ”He smiles like he’s already won. And maybe he has. Maybe he will win.

Because everything he said is true.

I’m twenty-five. Unmated. Legally, with my parents’ blessing, there’s almost nothing standing in his way.

A sob claws up my throat, and my vision blurs. “I don’t want this,” I whisper, voice tight with the threat of tears.

Tallen’s smile fades.

“I don’t want you ,” I manage to say.

The rage that consumes his face is blinding.

But worse than that—he doesn’t even yell.

He steps forward again, slow and deliberate, not stopping until we’re nearly nose to nose.

I push hard into the desk, feeling the hardwood cut into the back of my thighs.

I press my palms to the top, trying to steady myself.

They slip over letters and little slips of stickers, but then my fingers brush something hard, and I snatch it.

Without thinking, I raise the letter opener, ready to defend myself.

Tallen’s hand immediately wraps around mine, forcing me to squeeze my pathetic weapon hard, and he jerks my hand away from his face.

“You’ll learn to want me,” he snarls, his breath hitting my skin, hot and sour.

“And if you don’t,” he moves my hand, bringing the letter opener to the front of my throat, “you’ll still be mine. ”

Tears spill over my cheeks. I’m trapped—pinned in place and forced to hold a blade to my own neck— and I don’t know how to get out.

“Why?” I ask through a high-pitched whine. “Why me?”

Tallen smirks at my question, that arrogant curl of his lips sending a fresh wave of disgust through me.

“I’ve been searching for the right omega for ages,” he says, voice hollow with entitlement.

“But they’re always too stuck-up, too mouthy, or too fat.

” His gaze drops to my chest, lingering in a way that makes me cringe.

Shame flares hot in my cheeks, and I drape my free arm across my breasts, trying to hide my body.

“You, though…” His lewd gaze moves even lower, to the hem of my skirt. “You’re sweet. And you’ve got... great assets. ” He smirks at my breasts. “And I can’t wait to taste them.”

Still holding the blade to my throat, Tallen moves. He shoves his other hand between my legs, palming my sex and squeezing hard . He’s so fast, it takes my mind a full second to process what’s happening.

Horrified, my mouth falls open to scream, but before I can make any noise, Tallen crushes the letter opener against my throat—so hard it nearly cuts off my breath.

“You will be a good mate for me,” he snarls, shoving my underwear to one side.

“Fucking obedient.” His rough fingers probe me, hitting my most private places.

“And if you don’t…” His voice drops to a dangerous growl.

“Then I will destroy your parents’ fucking lives.

Do you understand?” He jabs his hand forward, shoving two fingers into my body.

I begin to cry, trying like hell to squeeze my legs together, to keep him out. But he’s too strong. “Please st-stop.” Tears roll unbidden down my face, slipping down my neck and soaking into my shirt. “Don’t, don’t hurt them. I’ll do any, anything.”

His teeth flash as he repeatedly shoves his fingers into me, pumping over and over again. Sharp pain cuts from deep inside me and a distressed whine leaves my throat.

“No more being rude,” he commands with a thrust of his hand.

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.

“No more talk of rejection.” He jabs again.

“No,” I manage to say, but apparently not loud enough.

“What?” He barks, shoving the letter opener harder to my neck.

“No, alpha.”

There’s a beat where Tallen stares at me, and his gaze drops to my neck, like he’s trying to decide whether to just kill me or not. “Good girl.” He pulls back, releasing my hand and removing his fingers from between my legs.

I quickly drop the letter opener, then pull my shirt down. I snap my legs shut, trying to shield myself from another attack.

“I expect you to act right for the rest of the evening,” Tallen purrs like he’s simply teaching me a lesson.

“Help your mother make dinner. Laugh at your father’s shitty jokes.

” He leans and plants a single, possessive kiss on my lips.

I flinch, skin crawling. “I do love apple pie,” he smirks, then turns, striding toward the door.

I want to collapse and curl into myself, sob and scream for hours on end, but I have to know one thing before he leaves. “Tallen?” I manage to choke out a single question: “Do you really have a pack?”

He pauses, fingers resting on the doorknob.

I wait, chest tight.

He smirks, all but confirming my suspicion.

“I don’t need a fucking pack.” His tone is full of disdain.

“All I need are a few desperate betas, willing to dump their daughter on the first alpha who crosses their path.” Then he slowly lifts the fingers he used to violate me.

They’re slightly wet. He sniffs them and his eyes close like they smell like heaven.

My stomach churns and I curl inward, even tighter.

“I cannot wait to break you in.” He licks his fingers, lapping at them with a lewd, wet hum.

“So fucking good.” His dark eyes drill into mine, hard and possessive.

“I expect you downstairs in two minutes.”

Then he turns and he’s gone.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoes around me, suffocating.

Panicked, I run to the bathroom and throw myself against the sink. I gag, stomach heaving so hard I’m sure I’ll lose whatever’s left of my lunch. Spit rolls from my throat and I choke, but nothing comes out. Once I’m sure I’m not going to get sick, I wash my face under cold water.

Between my legs hurts and my head throbs from crying.

But I only have two minutes to collect myself, because I truly believe he’ll come back if I take a second longer.

I open the medicine cabinet. Too much adrenaline makes my hands shake as I search for anything to calm me—something to stop the black pit growing deep inside. I pick up a few bottles, checking labels, then putting them back.

Cough suppressant, painkillers, scent blocker. I keep putting them back until I grab an old bottle of heat suppressants, dusty and forgotten. I skim the label, wondering if there are any sedatives in them.

The label reads “Do Not Use if Expired” in bold. I flip the bottle. The expiration date is over a year ago. A memory flashes from chemistry class—expired compounds in heat suppressants break down into toxic agents. They become unstable, leading to all kinds of health issues, including arrhythmia…

And maybe with enough of them, it can cause a heart attack.

A horrific thought creeps into my mind as I consider downing the whole bottle. But that would kill my parents, and my friends. And not to mention the fact that I simply don’t want to die.

If anything, I want Tallen to die….and just like that, a whole new thought consumes me.

Curious, I shake the bottle quietly. It sounds full, maybe missing one or two pills, but that’s it. My mind races. Enough of this could stop a heart. And it should be a quiet death, presenting like standard cardiac arrest.

And it would be too easy to put it in his fucking pie.

I shake my head.

What am I thinking?

I can’t do this.

Disgusted with myself, I toss the bottle into the sink with a clatter. My eyes lift to the mirror. My reflection stares back—blotchy, red-faced, streaked with tears and snot. And my neck…

I tilt my chin up, horrified as I take in the bruise already blooming across my throat. Ugly, dark, and fast-spreading. It throbs when I breathe. If that letter opener had even the slightest edge, I wouldn’t be standing here. I’d be dead, bleeding out on the floor of my childhood home .

My hand trembles as it moves, curling again around the bottle I’d just tossed away. Cold plastic. Rattling pills. A whole bottle full of escape.

No. Tallen doesn’t get another chance to put his hands on me. Not ever again.

Because if he gets one—just one—I know what comes next. He’ll take me. Isolate me. Strip away every part of myself until there’s nothing left but the shell he can mold and control. And if I resist—if I fight—he’ll kill me anyway. Maybe not right away. Maybe not cleanly. But eventually.

And no one will stop him. No one will help. My parents signed the papers. Beechworth will turn a blind eye. In their eyes, I’ll already belong to him.

A low sob tries to crawl out of me, but I crush it down. No time for grief. No space for fear.

It’s him or me.

And I have no intention of it being me.