Knot your feral omega an.., p.1
Knot your Feral Omega: An Omegaverse Reverse Harem Romance, page 1
Knot Your Feral Omega
An Omegaverse Reverse Harem Romance
Ora Howl
Copyright © 2024 by Ora Howl
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Newsletter
CLICK HERE
to subscribe to my newsletter and get EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers, secret previews, and new releases!
Contents
Knot Your Feral Omega
Content Warning
1. Elysia
2. Elysia
3. Rian
4. Elysia
5. Kael
6. Elysia
7. Elysia
8. Darius
9. Elysia
10. Elysia
11. Rian
12. Elysia
13. Elysia
14. Elysia
15. Elysia
16. Darius
17. Elysia
18. Rian
19. Elysia
20. Elysia
21. Elysia
22. Elysia
23. Kael
24. Elysia
25. Elysia
26. Elysia
27. Elysia
28. Elysia
29. Elysia
30. Darius
31. Rian
32. Elysia
33. Elysia
34. Elysia
35. Elysia
36. Elysia
Epilogue
Knot Your Feral Omega
I’m a damaged, feral omega,
and I’m being sold to three alphas,
only for them to use me...
Years of abuse have left me broken and feral.
Since I’m a failure, there’s only one option left for my family:
To sell me to the highest bidder.
And that highest bidder is an unfairly handsome alpha.
He’s on a mission to take down the corrupt power players of our world...
a world my family rules over.
And he’s not alone.
At the core of his pack are three devastatingly attractive alphas:
Rian, the ruthless leader that makes my body sing.
Kael, the wild monster that's determined to claim me.
And Darius, the stone-cold killer that hates me.
Untamed lust draws me to them.
With every passing moment, the primal bond between all of us grows stronger.
But I can’t trust them.
They say they want to protect me,
but their ultimate goal is to take down my family.
How do I know they’re not just using me?
These three men bring my omega instincts to the surface—
to nurture, to nest, to...love.
I’m determined to keep my distance...
until I go into heat.
It’s only a matter of time before we all give in...
and I’m ready to stop fighting my instincts.
Content Warning
This story is intended for mature 18+ readers and contains themes that may be sensitive to some. It contains explicit language and sex scenes.
Triggers: violence; references to imprisonment and torture; references to coercive control and abuse; references to sexual assault; references to non-consent/reluctance (roleplay).
1
Elysia
Time is funny when you don’t have windows—or any other means by which to judge things. I don’t know how long I’ve been down here in my isolation cell. It was worth it, but my last escape attempt proved that I am, in fact, totally fucked.
I am the eternal disappointment of my family. I have the extreme misfortune of being born into a long line of alphas, broken by their disappointing, useless daughter—a filthy little omega. Those are pretty much verbatim the last words that my father said to me before I was carted off here to the failure center. I’m sure it has a real name, but I couldn’t care less.
When I presented, my family went through a great deal of trouble to turn me into a profitable little breeding machine. I guess it just never occurred to them that I might have thoughts or desires of my own.
My father has always been a powerful man, and his father before that, and so on and so forth. Every member of our family has been an alpha for more generations than I can even count—until me. Imagine the disappointment that was. From the moment I presented, my only purpose for my father was a profitable marriage. When I disagreed, I was sent here. Honestly, you run away from home a handful of times or so, and suddenly, you’re “a liability.”
It’s a prison disguised as a rehab facility. You can’t leave even if you want to. You’re locked in here until your family comes to fetch you...or worse.
Given that I’ve been willfully failing each and every test and training they’ve forced me into, it’s likely that I’m heading into the “or worse” category. The betrayal that gnaws at me every night isn’t something that I can forgive. I refuse to turn into the little bargaining chip they want me to be. I’m not just going to lie here and take it—they want to marry me off for profit? I’ll make them wish that they had killed me.
I know that I certainly made the guards and everybody else who’s supposed to attend to me wish that I was dead. Ruthless—that’s what they have taken to calling me lately.
Maybe, if they would just let me see some damned sunlight, I would be less inclined to keep breaking their hands when they try to touch me. Being locked up like this makes me feel really bitey.
The hunger doesn’t help, either. Honestly, they’ve done this to themselves. I am the beast that they have made me.
I try to sit up, my dark, auburn hair falling over my face in a tangled, unkempt mess and my hazel eyes darting around the room with a mixture of defiance and despair. They are coming. I can hear them—the locks in the distance unclicking as the guards coming for me go through their various checkpoints. I wonder what lesson it’s going to be today. They’re insane if they think it will end any better for them than the others.
The concrete floor is just as unforgiving on my battered body as the rest of the cold walls. The small stone slab that they have as a makeshift bed is intolerable. Aches and pains settle in every part of me. I try in vain to massage some of the knots from the back of my neck with my stiff, numb fingers.
Not much longer now. I roll my head from side to side, but it doesn’t help the circulation. My limbs ache, but I will be ready for them.
“Oh beastie,” the guards call in a singsong voice from down the hallway. I can hear them running the metal baton they use to threaten me along the bars of the empty isolation cells leading up to mine. Hearing the sickly-sweet, nasally voice of my very least favorite guard is not how I want to start my day. I wonder how many bones I can break today? I force myself to stand, backing up against the far wall and wrapping the chain that joins the two metal cuffs on my wrists around my hands. They will have to come into the cell to drag me out of it—I intend on taking at least one of them down in the process.
“Back for another round? Funny, you would think that you’ve gotten your ass kicked enough lately,” I taunt, hoping that she can’t hear how badly I’m wheezing or the fact that my ribs are making it painful to speak. The guard is smaller than I am, but she should have the upper hand, given that I’m restrained. It makes her endlessly furious that I keep winning. She holds her baton low by her side, never breaking eye contact with me as the key pin enters my cell door.
“Don’t worry, beastie, I brought friends this time.”
Sure enough, there are three of them coming to join her.
“Don’t you think just leaving me in here would be easier? I’m not going to do any of your damned lessons. It’s a win-win for all of us,” I say, hoping to stall for time as they advance toward me.
“You aren’t going to lessons today, beastie,” she taunts.
Her words distract me enough from my defensive stance that one of them manages to hook a foot around the chain connecting my ankles and yanks me forward, slamming me onto the ground. They hoist me up, each of them holding a body part as I thrash in their hold and do my very best to get loose. I snarl and growl, but today, they seem to know something that I don’t. None of my curses or threats affect them.
My oh-so-favorite guard stands beside my head as they carry me out.
“You have nobody to blame but yourself, you know. Personally, I’m glad they’re giving up on you. I’ve always known you were a lost cause. Not worth the food it takes to keep you alive,” she taunts, looking down at me with a mocking sneer. “All my dreams are coming true. Do you know why? Today, beastie, you will be readied for the auction.”
Ice replaces the blood in my veins.
The auction is supposed to be a myth. It’s not supposed to be a real thing that happens. Rumors of the auction are just stories they tell the naughty little omegas to make sure they behave. It’s not just the disposal of unwanted omegas; it’s a death sent ence.
My family hates me, and they are ashamed of me—but are they really willing to go this far just to get rid of their problem child? If I’m being placed up for auction, then they have truly disowned me.
Auctioned off to the highest bidding alpha—no say in my future or what happens to me? It’s so much worse than anything I could have imagined.
“Ah, I thought that might shut you up,” my guard sneers, nearly skipping with glee as she walks beside me, her hands clasped delicately behind her back.
Can this really be happening? All of the years of brutal “training” that they put me through, all of the cruelties I’ve endured since I’ve been here...for nothing? The auction is for people who are so hopeless that society simply wants them to disappear. I didn’t choose to present as an omega. I didn’t disrupt the line on purpose. Why should I be blamed for my subgender?
For the first time since arriving in this soulless place, I feel my confidence waver. Tears threaten hot at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of knowing that this might actually be the thing that breaks me. As terrible as all of this truly is, I know what’s coming. Every day is a little bit of the same, never changing. I could stay here if I had to—it’s better than being sold off to some alpha who would do gods knew what to me.
Horror stories have been whispered through this place. I hear the other omegas talking about it late at night, the sorts of alpha that they’ve seen—as if all alphas aren’t the same. They only respect those of their own kind and the rare few betas who have proven themselves. To an alpha, everybody else is beneath them. And omegas? Well, they’re nothing but property. Breeding factories to pump out pups until they can’t anymore, and then they are disposed of. That’s what places like this are actually supposed to be for—havens to take those omegas who have already served their society.
I’ve heard whispers that it’s not the same in other provinces. That our territory, run by my family and six others just as powerful, is the only place where omegas are treated this way. It’s why I’ve tried to run away so many times. The whispers claim that omegas are revered and cherished in the other provinces—treated like the prizes we truly are. I should have known those rumors were far too good to be true.
If I get placed with an alpha pack, I can kiss my sense of self goodbye.
I’m going to have to escape from this place. There’s no other option. I would rather die than become an alpha’s plaything. I’ve never succeeded in escaping, but I’ve never been quite this desperate.
The guards drop me with an indignant smirk on the floor of the group shower. My jaw clenches as the thin gown they keep me in is removed, and I’m cleaned, shaved, and checked over by one of the beta nurses employed by the facility. The water is freezing cold, and so are her hands. By the time it’s all over, I’m shaking. Pity that they don’t bother taking the shackles and chains off while they do it—I might have tried something really stupid if they had. The windows this far up don’t have bars on them...
Within the span of an hour or so, I’m primped and puffed up to look as pretty as possible for the sick bastard alphas who think it’s okay to bid on a person like they’re nothing more than a piece of meat.
Even if I don’t make it out—even if I’m sold—I will make their life a living hell until I can escape. This time, I’ll make sure that nobody will ever find me again.
I just have to keep repeating that over and over again in my head until it sticks. I don’t have any other choice.
I can do this. I can. I have to.
The more I think about it, the harder it is for me not to be sick all over the floor.
I will not allow them to put that fucking thing on my face.
My arms are strapped down to the chair they have me in, which is bolted to the floor. They’ve already put a collar around my neck, made of red patent leather with a thick silver bull ring in the front. As if that’s not bad enough, I have matching ones on my wrists and ankles. I don’t know if it’s just to hide the scarring from the months of captivity or if they have some other sinister function.
My least favorite guard leans up against the far wall. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she wears a smarmy expression as she watches another guard advance toward me with a fucking muzzle in their hands. A growl I almost don’t even recognize as my own fills the room. I kick out my feet in their direction because every other part of me is immobilized. I won’t be muzzled. I won’t allow it. Tears burn in my eyes that I refuse to allow to fall, but they hold me down. Screams burn up the back of my throat, and the guard holding the muzzle at least has the decency to flinch away from the sounds I’m making.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” my least favorite guard sighs from the doorway. She whips open her baton, and the damned thing sparks to life, electricity zipping over the pronged tip. I don’t have time to fully brace before she jabs it into my stomach.
They overpower me, but not without my foot cracking at least a few ribs. The muzzle is a metal cage that fits over the lower half of my face, straps going over my jaw and by my temple to join the final strap arcing over the top of my head. They all meet in the back, immobilizing the archaic thing on my face. I’m so distracted by trying to get it off, cold panic filling my veins, that I don’t even notice the needle until I feel the thing in my side.
Howling, I try to arch away from it, but the effects are almost immediate. Some sort of tranquilizer starts to fog my senses. My mind is hyper-aware; I can see everything but can no longer smell anybody in the room. I can’t seem to move my sluggish body even though I want to. My tongue is fat and heavy in my mouth as I try to snarl at them, try to hurl expletives...try to do anything.
Trapped. I’m trapped inside my own body.
The guards laugh, unstrapping me slowly and pulling me to my feet. I hate that my body complies. I hate that it just does what they want it to do. They strip me again, pulling disgustingly suggestive lingerie up and over my body as if there were any doubts as to what I’m likely being auctioned off for—just another omega for some rich fucking alpha hole to breed. The black half-corset pushes my breasts up obscenely, only to be hidden by the black gown they pull on next. It’s strapless, and the velvet of the bodice meets a satin floor-length skirt with slits all of the way up to my hip bones.
I stand like a shell of a woman as they brush cosmetics onto the parts of my face that they can reach, pulling and twisting my limp, straw-like hair into a semblance of a style. I had such nice hair once, full and thick, with bouncing loose curls. There had been a time when my skin glowed gold with a tan, and my face was fuller, and natural rose pink colored my cheeks. I used to have curves. Now? I’m at least twenty pounds underweight, judging by how this dress fits.
I might have even liked wearing something like this back then, back before I presented. Now? My stomach roils at the very thought of what is coming next.
“I hope they sell you for pennies,” my least favorite guard laughs. “I wouldn’t pay the lint off my shoes for you. If only they knew how useless you are. I hope they break you.”
They won’t.
That’s the only thing that I’m absolutely certain of. I don’t know who will buy me or what they plan, but I know with everything in me that I will not break. I will find my freedom—even if I have to rip all of their throats out with my teeth to accomplish it. Suppressants of all kinds are slathered onto my scent glands, blocking my scent and further muddling my head.
Smaller links of chains are placed between my wrists and then ankles, and I have to shuffle forward with small steps as they lead me to a door. My heart is a rabbit in my chest, thundering with fear, and I have to hope against hope that they don’t smell it. I can’t afford to be afraid.
This will not break me.
2
Elysia
Every step that I take brings another cold trickle of fear down the back of my neck.
I’m shuffled into a darkened room that smells overwhelmingly of incense by guards on either side of me. I’m sure the smell is an attempt to mask the sheer amount of pheromones in the room. I can still feel them tingling across my skin—the measures they’ve put in place just aren’t enough.
