OMEGA IN HUMAN HANDS

The slap rang out, sharp and cruel. I staggered but refused to fall, refusing them the satisfaction of seeing me crumble beneath their contempt.

“You worthless Omega,” Martha Hart hissed, her voice laced with venom. “You should be grateful we kept you this long. Now, you’ll finally serve a purpose.”

Her words, colder than the winter winds outside, cut through me deeper than the sting on my cheek. I clenched my fists tightly, nails digging into my palms as the shame and anger churned within me.

“The auction’s tomorrow,” Gerald Hart said, his tone mockingly cheerful. “You’ll fetch a fine price. Perhaps then you’ll stop being such a burden.”

I fixed my glare on him, my jaw tight. “I’m not some animal to be sold.”

Gerald laughed, the sound hollow and cruel, reverberating off the walls like a haunting melody of despair. “Oh, but you are, Liana. You’ve leeched off us for years—eating our food, occupying our space—and this is how you repay us. Consider this your redemption.”

Martha’s heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor as she approached, her cold eyes locking on mine. She grabbed my chin roughly, tilting my face upward. Her nails dug into my skin as she sneered, “You’re an Omega. Born to serve, not to speak. Remember your place.”

I jerked my face away, summoning every ounce of defiance I could muster. “One day, you’ll regret this.”

“Enough!” Gerald’s voice thundered, his expression darkening. He turned to the guards standing by the door, his gesture commanding. “Take her to the preparation chamber. Make sure she looks… acceptable.”

The guards stepped forward, their hands like iron clamps as they grabbed my arms. I struggled, digging my heels into the floor, but their grip was unrelenting. Their laughter followed me down the hall, ringing in my ears like a cruel taunt.

The preparation chamber was cold, the walls stark and sterile. The air felt heavy with despair, thick enough to choke on. Other Omegas stood motionless, their gazes vacant, their spirits crushed under the weight of what awaited them.

A woman approached me, her face expressionless as she began scrubbing my skin with rough hands. Her silence was oppressive, but I broke it anyway. “Who is he?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated, her movements faltering for just a moment. “Damian Cole,” she murmured. “The Alpha of the Northern Territories.”

The name sent a chill down my spine. Damian Cole. His reputation preceded him—a man of immense power, feared and respected in equal measure. His name was whispered in tales of dominance and ruthlessness.

“What does he want?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

The woman didn’t reply. Her silence spoke volumes.

Hours later, they led me into the grand auction hall. The space was opulent, suffocatingly so, with velvet drapes and golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the gathered crowd. The air buzzed with dominance, the low hum of conversation punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Wealthy men and women lounged on plush chairs, their eyes gleaming with hunger as they appraised the line of Omegas on display.

“And now,” the auctioneer’s oily voice rang out, drawing all eyes to him, “the crown jewel of tonight’s collection—Liana Hart.”

A spotlight hit me, blinding and suffocating in its intensity. My heart raced as I stood exposed before the room, every gaze a chain wrapping tighter around my neck.

“Five thousand,” someone called out, breaking the silence.

“Ten thousand,” another countered, the bids climbing with alarming speed.

The air seemed to thrum with their excitement, their voices growing louder as the numbers rose. My chest tightened with every bid, each one solidifying my fate.

Then, a voice cut through the chaos like a blade, commanding and final.

“One million.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the words pressing down on everyone. Gasps rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned toward the speaker.

Damian Cole.

He sat at the back, his posture relaxed yet exuding an air of dominance that demanded attention. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips as if he already owned me.

The auctioneer faltered, his voice trembling as he repeated the bid. “O-One million! Going once… going twice…”

“Sold,” Damian declared, his tone brooking no argument.

The gavel struck, the sharp sound reverberating through the hall like a death knell.

I stared at him, my breath caught in my throat. He didn’t look away, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that promised nothing but danger.

As the guards escorted me from the stage, my heart pounded in my chest. Whatever nightmare I thought I had been living was nothing compared to the one I now faced. My fate was sealed, my life no longer my own.

Damian Cole had claimed me, and my world would never be the same.