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AMAYA

W hy the hell is it a universal thing to grab someone by their hair before snatching their arm? Honestly, just grab my fucking bicep. There's no need to rip my hair out to get me moving. My body has no fight left in it. I don't need the threat to my scalp anymore.

Alas, I guess it's time to take me out of the torture room, and the only way to do that is by the poor strands on top of my head. Apparently, it's hard to drag someone across the ground like that though, because just like every other time, two hands grab my biceps and release my hair, making my head droop in defeat.

I can't even muster up the urge to gasp and whine at the ache left behind. Excitement travels through my entire body at the prospect of being tossed back in my cage. At least there I will be left alone. For how long? I don't know, but any amount of time in natural lighting and the sounds of crying omegas instead of blasting music sounds like a vacation.

Christ, that's sad. I'm sad.

The drag of my knees on the uneven concrete bites, but I swallow the groans, preferring to live in this half lucid state for as long as possible. Maybe if I'm a little numb to the torment, Vincent will be too.

I just won't think about all the aches and pains. Maybe that will work.

A grunt pulls my attention to the betas dragging me through the dingy halls. The guy with a raspy voice squeezes my arm tighter as he complains, "If they would have done their fucking job, we wouldn't be doing all the brunt work. I would have an omega of my own."

The other beta is a woman who has the nastiest sneer. "They did one thing right at least."

"Enlighten me," the guy huffs, taking the brunt of my weight for the woman. Intentionally, I sag a little extra, hoping to make this harder on both of them. Fucking bastards.

" The files," she responds, and I swear to fuck my heart falls out of my ass. "At least those dumbass academy scientists sent their information far and wide."

"Yeah, but it took us fuckin' months to act on it!"

"Whatever, we'll get our own piece of ass soon enough," the beta bitch gloats with an extra yank on my arm, almost tugging it out of its socket.

Their conversation halts, or at least I think it does, and I'm stuck on the bomb they dropped. Everything about me… it's all in their hands?

They made us traceable! None of us omegas are safe. Not our families or our friends either.

As I'm thrown into my cage, the excitement ceases to exist. My little reprieve from the torture chamber has been eviscerated with their revelation.

I'll never be free as long as they can track me.