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AMAYA

M y ears ring from the proximity of my scream, but I'm thankful for the reprieve of Greg's vile words. Stupid cunt. Bitch. Spread these legs a little wider, whore, and I'll shove my fingers up your ? —

I am none of those things, but hearing them so close to my ass as I hang over Greg's shoulder makes me feel dirty and tainted.

I break my scream to pommel his back and unleash all my pent-up aggression. "Let me go, asshole! I swear I'll make your life with me a living hell if you take me anywhere near your fucking boat!"

Greg chuckles and slaps my ass, making bile snake up my throat and my eyes slam closed. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" I can't .

'Not my alpha! Not his!' My omega screeches in my mind, sending me into a tailspin of instinctual panic and a deep-rooted need to disassociate.

If he lays his hands on me like that, there might not be anything left of me to save.

"Oh, my poor little slut," Shan's taunting voice slithers over my pebbled skin like the snake she is. She sounds muffled in my sensitive ears, but I hear the threat for what it is. We're on the boat.

I stiffen. The cold realization that we've made it to my final resting place steals the breath from my lungs. There is no fucking way I'm going with these sick alphas.

I'd rather die.

This boat won't hit open water with my beating heart. I'll either be free or dead. Obviously, I have a preference; I want to go home . I'm just not na?ve enough to think I actually stand a chance against two alphas and whoever else is manning their escape vehicle.

'Alpha!?'

With my omega's distracted whimper bouncing around in my skull, I thrash and flail to no avail.

"Motherfucker!" Greg snarls when the boat rocks, clamping his hands down on my thighs to keep me steady. "SHAN, LET'S GO!"

I huff in frustration, hating how small I am compared to him, and push myself off his back. Whipping my head around, I can't tell where I am other than the fact that there's a balcony ledge to my right with ocean water lapping far below. To the left there's a white wall with gold-rimmed windows. The fuck kind of boat is this?!

The roar of the engine acts as my final call to action. Dead or alive, I'm not going with them . I have no time to waste.

"I SAID!!!" I push up as far as I can and fight against his hold on my legs. Supermanning this asshole’s shoulder, he scrambles to get ahold of me again. "LET ME GO!!!"

With one final burst of exertion from my tortured body, I curl in on myself and manage to fumble my knee into Greg’s chin with a shout of fury. Almost like it was planned, the boat jolts forward as my captor stumbles back.

Gravity, and maybe a little karma, does the rest.

With uneven footing, Greg careens backward, taking me with him, but as his back cracks into the railing, there's nothing to keep me from tumbling straight into the murky depths below. But not before his meaty fingers snatch my ankle. My ankle that's attached to my already twisting leg as the rest of my body is thrust from his shoulder.

Nothing but air greets me when a sharp, searing snap ricochets from my foot up my calf. I no longer feel his fingers gripping my left ankle, every sensation from my knee down turning hot and heavy.

A scream tears from my chest as my body tries to curl around its shattered ankle. Nothing else matters but the immediate throbbing pain. Not my hair billowing out around me like a parachute, and not the fact that water is fast approaching.

The aching breath in my lungs runs out, forcing me to gasp for air so I can wail out my misery to the sky, but my inhale is met with a flood of salt water stealing the oxygen from my chest.

With no air to spare and a heavy crash smacking me upside the head and swallowing me whole, my priorities shift from protecting my foot to trying to survive my imminent drowning.

Except, I forget two important things; I'm already out of air, and one foot sends excruciating pain through my leg when I use it.

Just like when Greg shattered it, fiery pain shoots through my ankle with my first attempt to kick to the surface. With the agony of forcing a broken bone to swim comes a bellowed scream that's soon followed up with the dreaded response to breathe.

I don't feel anything. My body doesn't buzz with the anxiety I feel running rampant through my head. I lack all control. I am no longer here. I'm trapped in my head that feels like it's about to implode as my limbs and lungs work their fight-or-flight response when they should be playing dead, because with each reaction comes another consequence.

I'm blind with shooting pains from my ankle and lava in my chest.

And still, I don't just fucking die.

Stop fighting! I plead with my body.

'Alpha?'

Stop fighting, stop fighting, STOP FIGHTING!

I. Stop. Fighting.

And it's… bliss.