only Hammond’s vocal fear that bonding might mute my skill that had prevented them from forcing the issue. Even before Jenda had submitted her recommendation, he’d been making increasingly strong hints that it was time I chose an Alpha.
He didn’t actually fear rutting and bonding would mute my gift. The general wanted me for himself in the way an Alpha and Omega would pair. Occasional high-ranking non-dynamics requested access to the Omegas. Given Cohen’s propensity for watching the stable and nesting rooms, he understood that an Omega with anything but an Alpha had, at best, lackluster results that invariably frustrated both parties.
I thought my grace period was running out long before Jenda turned the screw.
The murmurs of conversation as his speech finished, roused me from my introspections. As per usual, time was provided for the assembled Alphas to mingle and converse. All very civilized—on the surface. Alphas didn’t mix well, and the select crowd tolerated each other at best.
Was it like this in the Empire? Was this constant vying and backstabbing part of the dynamic or a cultural overlay pervasive to the Uncorrupted people? This was a corrupt strain of the virus, but I thought the infighting might be due to more than that.
Feeling his eyes on me, my focus shifted to the non-dynamic general who wished he were more. When they first started the Alpha program, it was seen as a boon when the virus didn’t latch. Later, it was viewed with a curious level of bitterness by some, Hammond Cohen among them.
After ten years here, I still couldn’t work out how the Uncorrupted, a faction formed by an aversion to the virus, would commence a viral program.
And I, the unwilling catalyst for this program.
“You need rutting through your heat,” Hammond said, cold blue eyes narrowing upon me. “It’s not healthy for an Omega of your age. Your heats are becoming more extreme. The doctor has cautioned me that this cannot continue.”
My heart stuttered at his vocalizing of Jenda’s request. He didn’t always give me the words, often he let his thoughts play out and allowed me to make what I willed.
I hadn’t been allowed to take suppressants since they captured me. And it was true that my heat had become more extreme of late. But he liked to play mind games, making it difficult to ascertain where he might take this next. He still held considerable influence, was praised by those higher up as the catalyst for many of the Uncorrupted’s war gains.
He’d asked them for a reprieve in the decision of allocating me to an Alpha.
It had been granted. It was now his choice when and if I would be rutted. I hadn’t seen Jenda since this development, but I suspected the Alpha female was spitting mad at the news. She had fallen from grace after her spectacular failure with Lillian Brach. It would take time for her to claw that back. Had she succeeded in her mission, her recommendation would have likely gained greater traction.
As was the way within the Uncorrupted, decisions were made based on power-plays as much as the proposal’s merit.
Much as I was loath to admit it, I believed I needed rutting through my heat. They were never pleasant experiences, but during my last, I’d been sure I was about to die.
His lips narrowed into a cruel smile, choosing to leave his decision unresolved, and enjoying the way my anxiety climbed.
Reading someone’s mind did not always save you from deception, especially if the person was wise to the gift. Hammond was closer to a Theta than the Alpha dynamic he so desired to be.
He’d tried to indoctrinate me. I liked to think that I was still me, yet I knew that ten years under their regime could not help but change me. The burning question was whether this had softened me toward their cause or hardened me against it.
Hammond’s steady gaze remained upon me, and despite my strong desire not to probe his thoughts, enough intent leaked to bring a flush of shame to my face.
I was due to come into heat imminently, and I thought he was taking a calculated risk in bringing me here. Perhaps he hoped that the Alpha pheromones clogging the room would trigger my heat and solve the problem.
“Are you keen to break me, general?” I asked, trying to shy away from his corrupt mind. “You place me in a room of men whose monstrous minds are open to me.” I was not exaggerating my case. The elite