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AMAYA

I wish I could say nobody could ever be trained to enjoy a scent they once found nauseating. I would fucking love to prove their hypothesis wrong, but each moment in this chamber scares me that much more.

The more I'm fed yummy chocolates and all the water I could want while choking on the mixture of the scents of those alphas, the easier it is to breathe in the artificial vinegar perfume smell.

I'm scared.

I don't want being around them to become easier. Greg and Shan. The alphas who purchased me. I haven't seen them for a while, but who knows how long it's really been. Time doesn't exist anymore. Hasn't for a long time. Or at least what's felt like a long time.

This new torture, though? This is something far worse than any physical abuse my body has taken. I'd rather starve than salivate for the almonds in Kallan's hand, but my body has other ideas.

I need that food .

And don't get me started on the tiny sip of apple juice I was rewarded with when I didn't gag on a deep inhale of Shan's scent being pumped through the air vents.

Chills burst across my chest and arms, zapping my fried nerves at the memory of what happened after I threw back up a gulp of the sugary juice. I gagged, forcing my eyes to water and my hand to come up to cover my mouth and nose.

Kallan, the bastard, tells me any negative reaction in this torture chamber of nasty alpha scents will result in punishment. The punishment I was given was fingers shoved down my throat and all my rewards spewing back up, then splattering across my lap and the ground.

So now I take my rewards slowly.

But sometimes, like right now, I just can't. My omega can't. She's been rising and rising. There's no stopping her except for an occasional chocolate covered almond. Unfortunately, the guilt and rage is a little too potent, like the scents in the room.

"Deep breath," Kallan instructs, his voice nasally behind the mask protecting his nose. He taps the chair I've been gifted with his foot when I don't immediately inhale through my nose.

I'm not sure what's worse, tasting their acidic scent on my tongue, or burning my nostrils. Still, I do as I'm told.

I want the fucking almond.

Unfortunately for my rumbling stomach, this is one of those times that I can't hide my distaste. My nose crinkles, and my mouth turns down just as Kallan's lips twist in disappointment and unmasked annoyance.

He has a month to get me ready for my buyers, and their main ask was for him to train me to enjoy their scents. Nobody is accounting for the fact that conditioning and brainwashing someone, let alone an omega with a sensitive nose, takes time and this psychopath's patience is really fucking slim.

Dumbasses .

Saliva builds in my jaw, nausea foaming and ready to greet us once again, but in a move I don't see coming, Kallan's leg sweeps out and kicks the chair out from under me.

I screech, trying to grapple for balance as another one of my creature comforts is taken away, but it's no use. My hands, which reached for the chair, leave my shoulder and face vulnerable to the rapidly rising ground.

Crack!

I hear it before I feel it. Pressure like nothing I've ever felt in my cheek steals my breath right before sheering pain radiates through the entire right side of my cheek.

Kallan's muttered curses barely register as the lights dim and my body floats to the ceiling. Darkness swallows me whole, and I can only curse the goddamn chair that I was so excited to sit on like a person.

But once again, I'm on the floor with my vomit inches away and blood heating my ear. Another failed training, without a treat tucked away in the corner of my starving belly.

Just like a dog.

Throbbing. Pulsing. My face feels like a literal heartbeat.

"Damnit, Kallan! This is coming out of your fucking check."

Grumbling.

"Shit,” a feminine voice huffs. "Fucked her cheekbone, huh? She's not very pretty like this."

More grumbling.

An agonizing poke. My eyes fly open, and everything comes crashing in. Bright lights, a claw-like nail dragging across my pounding cheek, and three alphas hovering over me. I open my mouth to protest whatever fresh hell they are going to do now, but my face protests in a thundering quake of agony.

"Aww," Shan purrs. “Poor, little whore." I don't have time to react before she's hauling me up beneath my armpits and dragging me into her ample chest. "Let's see if my toy has learned anything, shall we?"

My hands are too slow and sluggish to stop her from snatching my ratted hair and forcing my face into her neck. Her scent gland. No artificial concoction through the air vents could ever prepare me for the intimate onslaught of her scent from the source.

The vinegar reek of her companion ceases to exist in the crook of her neck as I'm flooded with the pure essence of this fucking bitch.

' Not my alpha!'