His Forbidden Mate
Part 17

The roar of laughter of the men gathered together, talking and drinking filled my ears up. I placed the steel tray on the wooden table in their midst, as instructed by Luna Tyra. My hand quaked uncontrollably, even though this task seemed like a simple task. I knew that even the simplest task could go sour at any moment. I prepared for the worse while hoping to do the one thing expected of me and leave.

I placed each cup before the six men seated around the table and I was about to drop the cup before beta Pascal and he caught my hand. My strength failed me, and my legs grew weak, but I knew I had to stay calm and not panic. His grip felt too tight, but I remained calm and the men seated around the table continued their discussion as if I wasn’t around or being held captive by Pascal.

“You are a woman now, little omega,” he smirked mischievously as he sang his rough hands on my legs into the old black robe I had on to feel my skin. He growled and his eyes glowed a dark shade of yellow, showing off his desire.

“I can smell you. All ripe and ready for the taking.” he gripped my butt a little too hard, and I whimpered but swallowed the pain.

When you’re an omega, the most you can do is stay silent no matter what you go through, because you’re not worth more than a slave or an animal. Every male wants a piece of you and every female can’t stand to be around you.

I was just a little over sixteen and I was yet to shift, but I knew where I belonged in the warrior pack. I was an omega. I carried the mark on my wrist, it was passed down from either my father or mother. Both of whom I didn’t know. I knew one thing though: I needed protection in the North. Little did I know that this pack, like others, would be so cruel to omegas.

I’d been a part of the pack for six months and I met four omegas when I came. Two had lost their lives because of the inhumane treatment of omegas at the hands of their superiors. They used us as sport, punching bags and pleasure dolls. The worse we could do was say no.

He dragged his free hand over my clothes, up to my neck, and gripped me. He applied pressure on my neck and I struggled to breathe, causing me to choke out. I saw him smile and the other men act as if they couldn’t see.

Pascal was the most feared beta in the pack. He took whatever he wanted and didn’t care about anyone or anything. The females in the pack were told not to fight and just take whatever he does because that would be better than what he’ll do to them if they struggled with him. The alpha couldn’t check him and, being the strongest after the alpha, he had the utmost respect and stirred fear in the pack.

I heard a few had once stood up to him for lying with their mate forcefully and he challenged them to death combat. He took the women in as concubines after killing their mates. No one had crossed him since then.

I returned to my little hut trembling and knowing what was coming, but praying for it to be averted. Hours passed and I still couldn’t bring myself to stop shaking. The nightmare was closer than ever. My eyes strain from staying open for too long and I laid my head against the wall and shut my eyes, hoping to get a little sleep.

I felt hands on my legs up to my thigh and my h**s and a firm grip hauled me away from the wall. My eyes fluttered and my breath hitched at the sight of Pascal in my tent and now on top of me.

“I’ve smelt you for days, omega,” he said with an evil smile and I shivered profusely, praying to hope some sort of miracle would happen and I’d disappear from here. “I have to have you now.”

How could the same people who treated omegas less than an animal desire them in any way? It made no sense.

I bit my lips as his hand travelled up between my legs to rub against me and I shut my eyes and sobbed, knowing I could do nothing else.

“You’re as dry as the desert,” he growled, and I had no clue what he meant. “Do you not want me?!”

I trembled underneath him, afraid to say or do anything else.

He spat into his right hand and his left hand dipped into his trousers to pull out his erected c**k. He covered his length with his right hand, furiously rubbing himself with it before pushing my legs apart.

“Please, don’t!” I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

He didn’t look willing or ready to stop because he pushed into me forcefully. My eyes shut tight, and I sobbed louder in pain.

“Shut your f*****g mouth!” he growled, pushing into me angrily and wrapping his hand around my neck to squeeze down on it like he had done earlier.

I choked on air and I struggled to breathe with his hard grip on my neck. My hands flew up, trying to pry him away, but couldn’t. He had his grip firm as he forced himself into me at a faster pace. He took my body; he took what wasn’t his, and I had no choice or say about it. My eyes rolled to the back, the life in me fading and I could almost feel the peace of the life beyond.

…

I woke up alone in the bed. My body shivered and sweat broke out on my skin. The dream felt so real because it wasn’t just a dream; it was a memory. A horrible one.

I grew up thinking a pack would protect its own, but all that was a lie and going rogue was the best thing I ever did.

I remember the warrior pack went to war with another called the lunar pack. I made my plans for an escape two months ahead and when I finally got the chance while they were still at war; I took it. The only reason I looked back was to avenge the evil that was done to me.

Beta Pascal’s tent was open, and I snuck in to replace him wounded from the war on his shoulder, arm and rib and in recovery. His eyes were shut, and he seemed to get rest. I grabbed the dagger tucked at my side as the last resort. This I would have used to end my life in case I got caught by the pack during my escape. But seeing him fast asleep, I knew there was no better time to use it.

I came over to him and placed my hand on his chest. His eyes opened instantly, showing how alert he was despite his condition. He looked surprised to see me in his tenth and a little suspicious. He let his guard down after I leaned in and kissed his lips. As his eyes fluttered, I launched the dagger into his chest, piercing deep into his heart, and I pulled away. For the next few seconds, I watched as life left his eyes and I had never felt more powerful.

If I could go back, I’d still do the same thing.

Ending his life didn’t erase the scar he left, but it made me feel much better knowing he would never get to hurt anyone ever again.

I am not perfect. Life has been cruel to me and I didn’t wish my fate on anyone else. That made me want to help as many as I could for as long as I could. With my parlour gone, I might never have the means to do that again, and that hurts.