Born Taken (Broken Angel 0.50) - Page 1

Chapter One

“Is this a dream, or have you come to kill my family?” Rae asked.

She rolled her knuckles over her eyes and watched the decorated soldier meander through the stables. Gold spurs arched over the heels of his cavalier boots. Every step he took broke the ground apart beneath him. Face hidden by the glare of the sun, he knelt down and revealed a single rose.

“Just came for a little talk,” he said.

Reaching to take the precious flower’s stem, Rae stumbled as he pulled back, wagging a thwarting finger in front of her eyes. Suddenly, his face was in full view, revealing hideous scars. “Careful. There are thorns.”

A chill shuddered through her, and it didn’t come from the sudden drop in temperature. She was young—too young to know about the ills of the world with full clarity, but old enough to understand the wrongs of alpha men.

Time and time again, she was told she was special. One of the few women who could give birth. Her father had gone through much effort to shield her omega scent from the breeders who passed by on the morning shifts. If this man moved any closer to her, he’d smell her fruitfulness. Perhaps, he already did.

“Papa!” she called out.

The man stayed kneeling and placed his dirty finger against the smooth ridge above her lips, dragging down to expose her teeth.

Sniffing wildly, he nearly pressed the arch of his nose against her temple.

“Lower your voice. Let’s surprise the old man,” he whispered, a deep, resonant tone.

Quiet. Calm. Freezing Cold.

Distant thunderclouds collected into purple heaps, the building storm threatening to close them inside for the week ahead. The orange haze of smoke and burning trash rising into the sky reminded her of the wars. Reminded her that this man’s one goal was to knot and ravage her ovaries.

Glancing down, she noticed the medallions that graced his shoulders. Either he was a solider, or he was a breeder. Either way, he was powerful.

At times, she felt obligated to offer the breeders her family’s hospitality. To be fair, every province succumbed to their wretched, carnal hungers. Somehow, looking away from the massacres in the near distance made them all feel safer, as if their blocks were immune to any and all attacks as long as they kept their manners in check. But there could only be one end to her beautiful farm village.

Rae knew that her age would come into question soon enough. Not too many women could give birth since the ever-growing problem of the chromosome deficiency. The omegas were the last commodity of a dying world. Naturally, the demand created a market, but without any government oversight, the ones that ruled did so with an iron cock.

She was far too aware that, soon enough, her thighs would be propped open, and her pussy would be filled with the seed of someone she despised. In return, she’d become the vehicle to usher in a new era of prosperity and growth.

Of course, every omega was desperate for safety. They would agree to the men’s commands, purely for that reason. But Rae wouldn’t allow for that within her own life.

She carefully ran her palms down her dress. Forcing a smile, she watched as the man stood, his boots scraping closer. His hand soon cradled her face, and, in a rushed moment of panic, she knew she was trapped.

His large hands, enclosed in the richly embroidered, dark leather gauntlets took her slender white shoulders. His shiny locks of sable hair, cockerel feathers, and black lace, slowly shrouded his ugly and scarred face again. “I am Cassian,” he said. “Think of me as an… uncle.”

She choked. “I understand,” she whispered, gravely.

“You understand nothing,” he snarled.

Stepping into the light, the hardened alpha took her hand like the father she never really had. The compulsion to run was strong, but his thick palm tightened around her brittle fingers like a python. Abruptly glancing at his hand, Rae noticed the darkened tattoo of the insignia of his pack. The Ouroboros Breeders. The snake eating its own tail.

“I am the man of the night. The last one you see before you close your eyes.”

Rae wavered and felt her throat tighten. Unable to suck in another breath, she choked again and dropped to her knees. “I’ve seen you before. I know you...”

“Then you will do what I ask of you, sweet child,” he whispered.

She despised the monster. Every drop of saliva and sweat compounded above his upper lip to leave a rich coat of filth. Voice thick with mucus, he opened his lips, reminding her of a fish she ate the night before. But it wasn’t his looks that bent her to nausea. It was seeing the meaty flesh rising against the pocket of leather between his legs that made her squirm.

Slowly, he unzipped, swinging the pulverized mass of foreskin near her face. His sac hung beastly in a tuft of unkempt hair. A slow and rich chortle caught at the edge of his throat, and his pupils widened with hunger. The smell was horrendous.

“Oh God,” she cried out.

Rae shut her mouth and writhed away from him. Slowly, he hid his flesh back into the leather satchel, groaning as he zipped it closed. “You’re right. Perhaps I will wait until you are ripe.”

Tags: Penelope Woods Broken Angel Erotic
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