Alphas reached such ranks by deed alone. Violent challenge and ruthlessness was the accepted normal progression through the lower ranks—it was their way. Only those who made it to the higher ranks were offered some relief from the physical challenges and instead became embroiled in scheming.
Culturally, the Uncorrupted were largely thugs. Every man present within the room had committed a wealth of heinous crimes.
A smile stirred his narrowed lips. “The virus will latch for me soon,” he said.
Bile rose in my throat. It was not the first time he had made such overtones.
And I could read his mind, so his desires had never been a secret. A part of him thought me too small and plain with my soft-gray eyes and hair that could settle on neither blonde nor brunette. My Omega scent made me interesting, my ability to read other people’s minds, more so. The rest of me was of passing interest—I was small and weak, and not at all imposing. Only a true Alpha could see the allure that Hammond could not.
“I’d like to see you knotted,” he said at length, cheeks darkening in a way that triggered a dull thud to the pulse beating at my throat. His depraved desires flooded my mind. “I’ve been told Omega cunts can take a surprising level of abuse, and still need more.”
Wrongness settled over me; this was not a direction our conversation had taken before. I’d been in denial, thinking he wouldn’t take this step because he wanted to save me for himself. He’d taken a stronger viral dose a week ago. I was sure it would never latch for him, but now I was second-guessing myself.
Heart beating wildly, I fought to be objective as I explored the foul recesses of his mind. No, the virus had not belatedly latched, and I thought it never would. The general was a tall, powerful man, old enough to have a little gray at his temples, and a distinguished level of handsome. He had the ingredients of an Alpha, but he lacked an Alpha’s soul.
He was doomed to forever aspire to be that which he never would, and to grow ever more embittered as each new batch of Alphas arrived.
Choose! His mind roared.
I shrank back from the vitriol.
His face maintained a calm facade before his precious people. “Pick someone, Larissa,” he said softly. Eyes taking on a calculating glean.
I shook my head. Everything became a wild jumble in my mind.
He meant it, I realized. His thoughts spiraled in anticipation of watching me being rutted.
Sweeping his arm over the bountiful offering of elite Alphas, he smirked and gritted out, “Pick someone, or I will.”
I took an unsteady step back, my eyes darting to the doors and noticing the red bar indicating they were locked.
“You have become bolder of late, Larissa. I was hoping to wait until I latched so that I might be the one to bond with you. But your heat is imminent, and I cannot wait. I need you bonded to an Alpha, to any Alpha. I don’t care anymore. I will not ask again. Pick someone, or I will let them all have you. I heard rough fucking will trigger a heat. I’m confident any would oblige.”
Panic washed over me. Had he been hiding this? No, he had decided upon this course of action now and with conviction.
Sick to my core, I searched the crowd of Alphas. I swallowed hard. None of them, I wanted none, and yet I must choose.
My eyes shot to him, the behemoth I’d been trying to ignore because if I didn’t ignore him, I would betray him. He was the only genuine Alpha in the room. He was trying to mask his thoughts, to focus on things other than whatever his mission was. He could not possibly know the darkness that invaded an Uncorrupted Alpha’s mind, and he could never emulate that.
Was he here to save me?
For so long, I had harbored that hope. As the years passed, I had concluded that despite them once lording my specialness, I was not special enough.
I could not allow that thought to flourish. One more crushed hope would break me as surely as the Alpha I must choose to rut me through my heat.
I tried desperately to be objective, and yet what was there to think on? It was him or the Uncorrupted Alphas. I’d seen the captive Omegas they rutted, the poor broken things with dead eyes. I did not remember that during my fleeting time as an