Deviant Games (The Controllers #8) - L.V. Lane Page 0,49

you do to a woman who caused pain to your Omega?”

My grin was all teeth; she did have a point. The tiny thing didn’t look like she could survive a strong wind, never mind ten years with the Uncorrupted. And how the hell had she caused pain to Lilly? What the fuck had she done? My grin faded. “That wasn’t an Omega? Never heard of an Omega who was truly malicious or evil. You feel you deserve to be broken?”

“No! Of course not,” she said, showing a little spirit. “I didn’t have a choice. It was him or someone else. And mind-reading isn’t perfect. Sometimes it helps, and sometimes it makes things worse.” As her chin lowered, sickness began roiling in my gut. What exactly has she done? “She’ll forgive him—Ethan won’t forgive me.” Her tired eyes met mine. “I’m here. Back in the Empire, after a ten-year nightmare. I don’t know how an Alpha might even go about ruining an Omega. If last time was any indication, I probably won’t mind what they do.” Her hands went to her stomach. “Oh.”

My brows had crawled up into my hairline as I tried to unpick that crazy monologue. Had Ethan rutted her through a heat? How did that work?

“What exactly did you do to piss Ethan off?”

“None of your business,” she hissed at me before she doubled over and emitted a long pain-steeped groan.

“The fuck? Are you going into heat?” The scent hit me, answering that question. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered, reaching for my communicator.

I paused as another idea came to mind.

Larissa

Fist on my arm, Lucian directed me into the second elevator. My body was on fire, and everything was spinning. I tried to sift through his intentions, but I was going into heat, and a veil was covering my world. Was he about to hand me over to an Alpha to ruin me, as Ethan had requested? I didn’t care what he did to me. His scent was absolutely delicious, and it was all I could do to keep my urges in check.

Instead, I clutched my stomach, knuckles aching as they curled into the material of my dress. I didn’t want to piss another Alpha off. He wasn’t Ethan, merely a different kind of dark. I’d gotten through heats on my own for years. Cohen liked to watch me trying to relieve the desperation on a phallus; I’d seen that insentient version of myself in his memories.

I squeezed my thighs together as a contraction savaged my womb.

“Keep it together,” Lucian growled.

He made no move to touch me other than retaining a painful hold on my arm. A fuzzy memory from my time in the Omega training program said that Alphas could only respond to their mate once bonded. Both Ethan and Lucian responded with aversion—neither being overcome with lust. Mating hadn’t seemed to matter among the Uncorrupted. Mated and unmated Omegas and Alphas were coupled regularly.

It didn’t trouble the Alphas.

The mated Omegas didn’t respond so well.

“I need a room. You need to lock me in a room.”

The elevator opened directly onto a suite. I caught a glimpse of a palatial setting and tasteful furnishing, the likes of which I’d only seen via media, as Lucian marched me along a short corridor before thrusting open a door.

“Wake up, asshole,” Lucian said.

I groaned as slick leaked down my thighs. Scents were washing over me: male Alpha, female Betas, and sex. My focus shifted to the enormous bed where a dark, disheveled head belonging to the most sinfully beautiful Alpha lifted.

Two more heads popped up. One blonde, one brunette, and sleepy, pretty eyes turned my way.

I growled. Lucian cut me a glare before returning his attention to the bed. “Get rid of them,” he said. “I’ve brought you a present.”

Everything was getting a little woozy, and I fretted, trying to peel Lucian’s fingers from my arm.

“What the fuck? It’s the middle of the fucking night,” the man on the bed said, sitting up. “Have you not heard of privacy, asshole?!”

“Get rid of them,” Lucian growled.

God help me, the aggression rolling off him set off another brutal contraction.

“Fine,” the calm voice on the bed said. “You heard my brother, get your asses out of here.” An unmistakable slapping sound followed, and I glanced up, expecting to see one of the women clutching her face.

The blonde one was pouting and rubbing her bottom in a way that was obviously fake-hurt. Had he just… spanked her? Silky dresses and pretty shoes were