Strength grows in the moments when you think you can't go on, but you keep going anyway.

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Trigger Warning: This chapter consists of abuse, which may make a few readers uncomfortable.

The Omega

Destiny

Groaning, I groggily wake up but with little to no memory of what happened. What's going on, why can't I feel my legs...or move my arms? Just the thought of lack of movements gets me worried, fluttering my eyes open, they hurt the moment I do; due to the assault of the brightness. What the hell?

"Well... well. Look who finally decided to wake up," a voice says, but it sounds so groggy.

Even so, everything seemed to be muffled. Oh, that's right! I was in an accident.

A fist greets my beautiful cheek, making my head swing to the other side while hearing the sound of metal slapping together. It takes a moment to get out of my half-asleep, half-dead-like state. Fuck. What kind of drugs did they inject my ass with? I can't seem to focus.

It takes me a while to gather that the metal sounds I hear are chains, and I'm attached to them by my arms above my head as something splashes upon my face.

Hmmm... vodka?

"Focus bastard," the voice sneers, my blurry vision become a bit clearer and somewhat focused. The voice belonging to no other than Leona Hunter. Why am I not surprised?

"Leona! Why are you making my eyes hurt? Please do me a favor and go wash your caked-up face," I say sweetly, and again, a fist is tossed my way, colliding with my face.

"Show some respect, you whore! How dare you speak to the Luna like that," a rather deep voice says and I stare at the asshole. He's about 5'9, dark brown hair, piercing black eyes, and about two hundred pounds of hard muscle.

Shit! No wonder my jaw hurts like hell.

"Wait a damn minute. How comes, I'm the whore? Then what does that make her, huh? The mother of all whores," I retort snickering at my lame joke.

A punch to the ribs has me grunting. Dammit! That hurts. Why of all the times the drug they've given me is wearing off. Ugh. Just my freaking luck.

"You're an abomination! There's a reason why your kind never existed. So what makes you so special, that you survived? You're nothing—just like the rest of your kind...pointless." Leona says genuinely wanting an explanation, but was I gonna be the good little capturer and answer her politely?

Nope. Not a chance in hell.

"Well since you want to know, my dad's sperms are some strong swimmers including my mom's eggs," is my smart ass response and that does not go too well. Leona bitch slaps me and I roll my eyes.

"That's all you've got Leona? A bitch slap? My dog could do better than that and he's a dog! How the hell are you a Luna," I taunt.

The sensation piercing my skin, tells me it's of a dagger and I can feel the warmth of my blood oozing out—soaking through my jeans. That bitch stabbed me, but she isn't done. Mr. Muscle Guy collides both his fists to my face under her command but I spit the blood out right onto her face. To say she's shocked is an understatement.

Chuckling at first, then beginning to cackle like a deranged hyena. "Sleep well, Leona. You're gonna need it because once I'm free, your face will be the least of your worries. Mark my words. I'm going to kill you," I declared clearly with ice in my voice even though my jaw is killing me.

Leona pales but quickly recovers. "Conner! Break her," she orders, quickly leaving the room.

Oh, so Mr. Muscle Guy's name is Conner as he gives me a sadistic smile. Oh shit. I'm about to get it good.

"You're a pretty little thing. I can see why they're all so obsessed with you," Connor says whilst putting on brass knuckles.

His fist connects with my gut, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he goes for a leather whip making me gulp internally. "How about we have some fun, sexy." Conner taunts with a smirk.

"Fuck you!" I called out, his eyes blazing in fury—the whip kissing the tenderness of my skin and I know for sure there's blood.

Even so, no matter how many times he whips me, I'm not going to cry out loud.

******

"Tesoro." A voice keeps waking me from my peaceful bliss.

"Tesoro.” There it goes again.

I groan in agonizing pain. Damn! Connor did quite a number on me until I passed out. My face and body ache everywhere.

"Tesoro," the soft voice repeats a bit stronger this time and I blink rapidly, trying to adjust my bloody eyes. Why can't I see clearly and why am I still in pain, I should've healed already.

"Your healing abilities won't work Tesoro, they drugged your system good. It's meant to suppress our inner wolves, but seeing as you are only half, they doubled your dose because you're an uncertainty to them," the soft Italian accent answers my silent question.

Taking a look at the person, wanting to place a face to the voice. He's small for a guy about my height, which is a retarded 5'3. Thanks a lot, mom. Note the sarcasm. He has beautiful sky blue eyes, a slim body, a babyface, shaggy blond curly hair, and seems to be about twenty-one years old. He's a cutie, and for some reason, I trust him.

"What's your name?" I ask after some time and he gasps.

"Michelangelo, but you can call me Michael," he says as his accent sticks out a lot more when he says his name.

"Your name is very special. It means 'Michael the angel." I replied and he blushes. Talk about cute. "Why is it you keep on calling me treasure?" I ask curiously.

He seems genuinely shocked that I know what those words mean, including his name. Thank god for my obsession with Italy when I was ten years old. So I'm still familiar with some of the words in the language.

I try to chuckle. Keyword, try, but I ending up hissing in pain instead. Michael doesn't answer, but that's cool and instead just continues to treat my wounds. Even though I'm still hanging to the freakin ceiling with my toes barely touching the grimy ground painted in stale blood, vomit, and urine.

After Michael tends to my wounds, he begins to look around cautiously before digging into his little medical bag. He eventually pulls out and pops up with a piece of bread and a small portion of cheese. He feeds me bits and pieces then giving me water. The ancestors know how much I'm grateful, I don't know what I would've done without him.

"Thank you, Mickey," I say sincerely and yet again, he gasped and blushes. Awe.

We hear footsteps and Mickey quickly grabs his medical bag and sprints forward, but the door is swung open, banging—there stands Steven, all mighty and proud. Ugh, not now.

"Get lost Omega," he sneers.

Mickey flinches then bolts out the room, but I growl. Omegas are like mothers, no matter the gender. They nurture and care for others, but they're so rare, hence why they should be treated with respect and love.

"Attach are we?" Steven taunts. "Don't worry baby. He's your carer until I see fit," he says creepily while roaming my body with lustful amber-like eyes and I have the urge to puke.

"So damn sexy," he purrs touching my skin since I'm only in my undergarments; feeling nothing but disgust.

"Take your filthy and creepy hands off me, you asshole," I spit at him like he's some sort of disease.

But the pervert only slaps my ass hard and I bite the inside of my cheek in order not to make a sound and give him the satisfaction.

"Mmmm, firm. Just my type," Steven states squeezing my ass cheeks causing me to shiver in disgust. "Don't worry sweetness. Soon you'll be shivering in lust and desire for my cock which is twitching to be deep inside of you," he says stroking my nipple through the mesh bra.

"The only thing I'll desire is to kill you and your bitch of a mother,” I retorted. “Besides, the only cock I'll gladly accept is that of Tyler Greyson Junior. So go fuck yourself you piece of shit!" I growl out.

That did not sit well with the creep. His fist yet again hits my bloody face. What's up with these shitheads and my face which is already swollen as hell. So I grunt. He smiles all smugly. Psssh. Does he think he'll have the last laugh? Haha.

"You and your mother are pathetic shits, I mean really. You people are so low and cowardly taking the easy root of drugging me to the point I can't kick you in that shit face of yours," I taunt, snickering—just like his mother, he bitch slaps me, but he is way more effective.

Grabbing a fist full of my hair, yanking my head backward, gripped my neck, almost cutting off my air supply. Steven’s all up in my damn face and his eyes are now pitch black. "Mhmm. I love your new hair baby. It suits you. Now listen up Destiny, soon I'm going to fuck you willingly or not. I'm not picky," he whispers in my ear then jerks my head causing it to bob up and down like a damn bobble doll. Is this bipolar psycho serious.

"Not before I rip your face off with my teeth you snake," I replied smirking when he stalks out the room angrily.

The moment he's out the door, I sigh. Dammit. How am I going to get myself out of this shit?

Both my powers are useless. So much for being a damn hybrid. Can't even free myself of whatever drug they're giving me, It's screwing with my senses. Ugh. Just great.

*****

Feeling the desperate urge to breathe, I'm woken up with my head submerged within a water bubble; that has me struggling for air.

"Enough," Leona's muffled voice order.

While still struggling to get air into my lungs, I see the person responsible for my wake-up call. "Bianca Michaelson, ” I acknowledge the witch. “Bitch don't you know the meaning of an alarm clock. You dumbass," I retort and I swear smoke is coming out of her ears, steaming with anger. Well, that's for rudely waking me up.

"You broke my nose, you slut," she screeches and I shrug.

"The sound of your voice irritates me, much like how it's annoying me right now. I just want to punch you in the face and break it all over again," I state like it's the most normal thing to say.

She lunges at me—punch after punch, she takes out her hatred on me. Damn. She's got some effect to her punches but not nearly enough as Conner's, so it's bearable.

"Aww. Did I hurt your feelings, do you feel better now? Where is your master, by the way, banshee," I say after spitting out my blood. I've been doing that a lot now, no wonder I'm weak as hell.

"I see you still have a smart mouth. Let's do something about that shall we," Conner says with a sick look in his eyes and Bianca smiles sweetly before using her powers on me again. However, this time, Conner walks up to me with what appears to be jumper cables attached to a battery—he attaches them onto my chains.

My face remains blank even though on the inside, I'm staring wide-eyed and screaming. I'm so dead!

Conner starts up the battery and just like that, it's like I'm being ripped open by the shock currents. When he realizes I'm not screaming, he turns it up a notch and bloody hell, all I do is grunt. Still not satisfied, he increases the voltage to which I can't hold it in anymore; screaming the hell out of my lungs.

"Ahhhh!!!!"I cried out making both him and Bianca laugh as if I'm a joke.

******

My arms feel like they're detached from my body, and I wouldn't be surprised if they are. I've got broken fingers that Conner used a hammer to smash on them, I may or may not have a few broken or bruised ribs, and almost fractured jaw, few cuts, and a killer migraine. Not to mention my already broken leg from the crash. Thanks to Mickey, I'm aware I've been here for three solid weeks. I feel like crying so badly, but I refuse to let them see my tears.

I'll never be their victim.

Day after day, they tried harder and harder to break me into submission to becoming Steven’s mate with different torture methods. I've been beaten, stabbed, electrocuted, water torture—almost drowned by that bitch. Bianca enjoys that part and I'm gonna enjoy messing her up nicely, once I'm free from these witch binding chains. No wonder I can't access my powers.

That piece of shit and his lunatic family wants me to bear the next Hunter heir, giving them a stronger bloodline. As if I'll let Steven touch me like that. The only heir I'm carrying will be a Greyson for sure.

Three weeks without Tyler, the man I love very much, I miss his beautiful green eyes, delicious lips, his broad shoulders, chiseled face, smooth rock hard chest, his massive shaft buried deep inside of me, and that sinful tongue of his that my womanhood easily craves for like right now.

Scowling at myself, leave it to my thoughts on Tyler to be horny in a time like this. I miss Luca and his nagging of my choice of clothes or Alexis’s annoyingly chirpy attitude. All in all, I miss my home, my friends, my pack, my family, and I miss Demon. I silently whimper, refusing to shed a damn tear. No matter how bad I want to, these shits will never see my tears.

Thanks to Mickey, I don't smell. He cleans me so well and changes my underwear every day, much to both of our embarrassment. He sneaks me food as well as water. Conner along with Leona are wondering how come I'm not that weak yet. I can't let them suspect him. They'll kill his wife, who's pregnant with their child. I can't allow that, so most of the time, I pretend to be weak.

The guys will never find me while I'm inside of here. This place is covered, so I need to get out into the open. But what and how?

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