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Auctioned: An Omegaverse Anthology
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Contents
Auctioned
Introduction
Fight For Her
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Unexpected Gift
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
The Omega Spy
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Eli’s Hellcat
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Alpha’s Pet
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Proper Behavior
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
An Alpha For Dahlia
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Auctioned
An Omegaverse Anthology
By
L.P. Dillon - Emma Mountford
Isoellen - Raevyn London
Leann Ryans - Merel Pierce - V.T. Bonds
© 2020 Reticent Desire Publications
&
Emma Mountford, L.P. Dillon, Isoellen, Leann Ryans,
V.T. Bonds, Merel Pierce, Raevyn London
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover Art: Merel Pierce
An Omegaverse Anthology, Auctioned
ISBN # 978-1-7334553-7-4
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written consent of the author. This includes electronic or mechanical transmission, photocopying, recording, information retrieval systems or storage.
This book is a work of fiction and is intended for adults only. Some scenes may contain explicit material that could make some readers uncomfortable.
Any names, businesses, places, or events used in this work are fictional. Any similarities to living or dead people, incidents, companies, products, or organizations are purely coincidental.
Introduction
For nearly a month the capital had been besieged by visitors from around the globe and the stars beyond. An influx of foreigners choked the streets, but were only accepted by the locals because of the credits they brought with them. Alien and man alike were welcomed with cautious smiles and feigned niceties.
The Rathsima Unity Festival memorialized the end of the war and what the Empire now referred to as “the deliverance of its people from the precipice of self-destruction.” No one dared point out that the Empire itself was responsible for the decimation that left entire portions of the planet in ruins.
Those who resided on the continent of Rathsima Proper were blessed. They had access to food, shelter, clean water, electricity, most modern conveniences, and protection. The heart of the Empire thrived, as did the worldwide network of city-states that served under the Empire’s flag. These loyal citizens were kept safe from the fallout.
Patrolled walls and travel lanes made certain the general population was rarely exposed to the violence and disease that had risen in wake of the war. Past the borderlands, it was a different story. Outside the protective barriers and highways scanned by armed hovercrafts, any who survived did so on their own. It was a hellish existence, one the great leaders assured their citizens these poor souls had willingly chosen by refusing to acknowledge that the rise of the Empire had been for the greater good.
This “triumph” over evil was the very thing they were preparing to celebrate, just as they had every year since the end of the war. The weeklong festival was always held in the capital city of Algar-Din, where the first point of contact made with their intergalactic allies changed the course of history so many years ago.
In the days leading up to the festival, the landing fields on the outskirts of the city grew crowded with transport ships and personal crafts. The blocks of visitor housing circling the market center would soon be forced to illuminate a “no vacancy” notice on the scrolling digital marquees, followed soon after by every hotel and hostel in the city.
Were it not a common sight for the people of Algar-Din, the aliens that flooded their city alongside the visitors from other city-states might have caused a panic. Many of their intergalactic guests were startling to look upon, having come from so wide a variety of races. The aliens were subject to the same law as the citizens, though, and for the most part remained a benign oddity rather than a threat.
It was just as well. Fearful citizens would not have stopped the influx of exotic and terrifying aliens. They came from the farthest reaches of the cosmos to buy and sell at what was widely regarded as the best auction in the galaxy. The money made from the exchange was far too exorbitant an amount for the Empire to risk losing over the mere discomfort of its citizens, and no one wanted to start a war by breaching the terms of the Karidu Alliance besides.
The Rathsima Slave Auction, the finest of its kind, was housed in Algar-Din’s main market nearly a story above the streets. Square in formation, the front and sides featured cobbled walkways lined with low stone walls. The auction itself was situated at the center of the back wall, a large, grand building flanked by enclosed halls which housed the permanent restaurants and shops of the square.
In the courtyard, three circular landing pads were situated on either side of the main walkway, providing transport crafts with the opportunity to drop off and pick up patrons and merchandise directly outside the auction house doors. The main walkway led through the markets and down several flights of stairs to the street below.
The surrounding avenues were lined with clubs, bars, restaurants, boutiques, and hotels which catered to both human and alien patrons alike. The nightlife was explosive, even more so during the week of the festival. Due to its popularity, traffic in the city center was atrocious. Many chose to take public transportation rather than attempt to find parking. Only the most elite citizens could afford to be shuttled in. During the festival week, however, the sky above the city was nearly as busy as the streets.
During the day, the walkways o
utside the market were packed with carts and stands overflowing onto the front steps and sidewalk. The steady hum of conversation was overshadowed by the deafening hiss and screech of ships landing and departing from the transport pads outside the main entrance.
Before the war, the type of business the Algar-Din auction houses specialized in would have been hidden from the general population. Now it was one the planet’s main exports and had long since been decriminalized. In fact, The Rathsima Slave Market was one of the crown jewels of the Empire and served as the main distribution hub for other auction houses around the city.
Even so, merchandise was never brought in through the main entrance. Instead, an underground subway system transported all incoming shipments to a processing center and housing facility beneath the market. Here all new arrivals were physically assessed, graded, and sorted like cattle. No longer were the creatures who passed through the doors regarded as human, alien, or even sentient beings; now they were mere objects.
The only advantage for those being held beneath the market center was that the month before the celebration meant extra rations and more frequent opportunities to bathe. All slaves were expected to be in top condition, and extra care was given to make certain they were presentable in time for the opening of The Rathsima Unity Festival.
What awaited them beyond the stage where they would be sold into their new life was anyone’s guess.
Fight For Her
By
Raevyn London
HUGE thanks to Eva for giving me feedback and direction when I was lost, and thanks to Merel and all of my Wee Little OV friends who inspired me to start this journey.
Chapter One
Ander
“Sold to Lucius Salvarin! Congratulations on a fine specimen. He’ll be a great addition to your stable!”
The auctioneer’s voice was just a buzz in Ander’s ears as one of the smaller Rathsimian males pulled him from the stage by the chain connecting the metal cuffs around his wrists. Ander’s 6-foot-five-inch frame dwarfed the smaller man leading him away. He could have easily wrenched himself free, but his head had been spinning all day.
He’d been captured during a raid by a rival clan when he’d stopped to protect an Omega grieving over the body of her Alpha. She’d been so lost in her anguish Ander couldn’t stop her from plunging her mate’s hunting knife deep into her own chest. Distracted, he found himself skewered on an enemy’s spear, but he’d continued to fight until blood loss made his vision hazy.
As he’d collapsed, his last sight had been of the now-silent Omega draped across her Alpha’s body, and his last hope had been that the raiders didn’t find the cabin where his brother had taken his own mate to ride out her heat.
The raiders had collected Ander, and after he’d been too stubborn to die of his wounds, they’d sold him to a passing slave trader. He’d spent the next month in chains, recovering from wounds that even his advanced Alpha healing struggled to fix.
Eventually he’d stabilized enough to qualify for the auction on the main stage of Rathsima’s slave market during their Unity Festival. He’d regained his strength as he waited in the cages and underground processing area. Several times a day, he and several other slaves who looked like they were used to hard work were made to do a series of exercises meant to keep them flexible and lean.
He’d quickly acquiesced to the mandated ritual, because in order to break free of whoever or whatever thought to be his master, he needed to be in top form. He possessed the natural size and strength of an Alpha, but his injuries and a month of inactivity would make him as weak as any Beta. If his brother Casan had survived the raid, he would stop at nothing to free him, but Ander needed to make his own escape plan to be ready for anything.
A flurry of activity in the pens had forewarned the auction was approaching. Beta attendants polished and primped the slaves until their skin, or exoskeleton in some cases, glowed and their hair crackled. Males meant for hard labor were oiled to show off their gleaming muscles. Slaves headed for the pleasure houses or to warm a bed were groomed and their body hair removed using Ikavu technology. Some of the females had started to whimper or cry, the reality of being sold into the unknown finally upon them.
They bothered him the most. His mother, an Omega herself, had raised her Alpha sons to believe that females of any dynamic were to be cherished and protected. She used to say that most males had lost their way since the Rathsima War, but that as Alphas, he and his brother had a responsibility to those weaker than themselves. Ander was thankful she had not been there to see the raid on their village.
He’d thought about trying to escape in all the confusion, but then something had drifted towards him on a current of air—a jasmine scent that caused his mind to turn from the quickest escape route to the tunnels leading deeper into the kennels beneath the marketplace.
For the last month, all he’d been able to smell was the mix of fear and musk from the various people and creatures gathered underground. But this delicate scent cut through everything. He wanted to escape, but his mind refused to send the commands to the rest of his body as he strained to capture more of that tantalizing aroma.
When a Beta handler locked the cuffs around his wrists, he was too busy trying to locate the source of the scent to enact his plans for rebellion.
Moving upwards from the warren of tunnels under the stage to the dark wings, Ander heard the auctioneer starting on his group of strong backs for strong work. One of the males he’d been grouped with was on the stage. The auctioneer listed his attributes, highlighting why he’d make a great purchase for a farm or factory with his extra set of arms. After all, four hands could do more work than two.
At some silent instruction, the mostly humanoid alien turned around to show off the flexing muscles of his back. The veterans in this group had advised the newcomers not to fight and just obey. Play to the crowd. The wealthier the patron, the better a chance for decent accommodations and food. For slaves, it was the best they could hope for.
Ander was a warrior, not a slave. He’d planned to make his move when they finally let him out of that cursed cage and above ground, but that damn scent destroyed his concentration and rooted his feet to the floor. Every time his body had moved to try and break free, his instincts screamed at him to wait.
Just wait, was the only answer he got from that primal part of his brain. He didn’t have any clear direction, just some vague sense that he couldn’t leave here without it.
Whatever it was.
Head tilted, he pulled in deep breaths and filled his lungs with the elusive scent. It was maddening. It would get stronger and then disappear, making him momentarily unreasonably frantic before he’d catch it again.
He was so focused on the scent he didn’t notice the line of slaves moving forward until it was his turn. The bright lights on the stage caused him to blink rapidly.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been a warrior since he’d made his first kill, but he couldn’t focus on his escape long enough to even take a step out of line. Had they drugged him?
After his turn on the auction stage, Ander followed behind his Rathsimian handler, turning his head like a hound reaching for that distant scent that had completely captivated him. He would have turned his whole body, but another handler followed behind him and struck him with a shock stick he held at the ready. The chains between his wrists pulled taut and an audible click snapped his attention to the wall in front of him. He’d been hooked to the wall.
“My name is Lucius Salvarin. You’ve been purchased for labor around my estate. You’ll find that while I deal in violence, I don’t like it around my home. You’ll be fitted with the latest slave collar as soon as we reach my ship. You may address me as Master or Master Lucius.”
The deep voice seemed out of place on such a genderless creature, but it conveyed a bored sense of entitlement—as if this purchase was beneath him—which was only reinforced as Lucius turned away with a casual wave of his hand.
Tugging on the metal links did nothing but dig the cuffs deeper into Ander’s skin. For now, he’d missed his chance to escape, but he’d have another when they moved him to the transport. He would never wear this alien’s collar.
Chapter Two
Kasi
Tears slipped down Kasi’s cheeks under the cloth tied tightly around her head. It was already soaked from the tears she’d shed over the last four days. She was tired of crying, but when she’d tried to fight back and escape the first day, the Beta who stank of fear and darkness gave her a fist to the temple that made her vision go black.
She’d regained consciousness in a world of darkness, shackled to some type of transport. The blindfold around her head didn’t allow her to see where they were going, but the metal wires digging into her thighs and back told her she was in a cage.
When her rolling prison finally stopped, Kasi tried to prepare for whatever might be coming, but the only clue anything would be different was when a scraping sound indicated her cage door had been opened. Her bound hands trembled as someone grabbed the chain between them and shook them up and down.