Untouched Omega
Alpha Elite Series Book 4
V.T. Bonds
Copyright © 2020 by V.T. Bonds
Cover design by V.T. Bonds
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
*This story is not for the faint of heart. It is a dark action-packed Omegaverse story set in a world where violence and sexual situations occur, including themes of infant loss and emotional trauma. Scenes are not glossed over. Sensitive readers please abstain. Proceed with caution.*
Dedication
To those who have suffered loss – There is no greater pain than to lose someone you love. If depictions of loss will bring too much of the pain back, please do not read. Your mental and spiritual health is too important to jeopardize over a book. Take care of yourself. Reach out if you need support. My inbox is always open.
To my supporters – These characters were my most difficult thus far. I spent weeks being torn to pieces over/because of them. Their struggles break my heart, over and over again. Writing this story exhumed a bit of my heartache, but some things never go away. Keep reading. They find their way to the light. Eventually.
Chapter One
Anastasia
One more box of syringes stacked in the cabinet.
One more inhale.
One more gown placed in the drawer.
One more exhale.
One more soap beside the sink.
One more moment.
One more moment to hurt and grieve. To cherish and mourn. To hold close the precious moments in life, no matter the surroundings. To protect what’s most important.
Motion used to help make the moments easier to bear.
Not any longer.
Not for a while.
Nothing helps.
Even if it did, I would refuse the comfort. I do not deserve it. I do not want it.
I’m the only one capable of carrying this burden. The only one able to pay adequate homage to the destruction I’ve left behind.
In a way, it was easier to stay where I was, always underground, always knowing my place in the world. It was easier to celebrate the short snippets of beauty I’ve seen in my life while mourning what I’ve stolen, shielding the precious memories from the cruel world with a serene face.
These circumstances—meeting my lifemate, denying him, and being torn from normality—aren’t easy to navigate through, but difficulty defines my life.
This too I will survive.
And I’ll do the only thing I can do to protect the newer additions to my heart.
These new branches ache for me to let them in, living breathing vines so different from the multitude of dead husks protruding from my dilapidated organ.
In order for them to thrive, they must prune me from their lives.
I am a contagion waiting to infect everything they hold dear.
Chapter Two
Jumoke
“What did you just say?” Vander growls as he stands from his crouch.
With the last piece of equipment placed, an invisible shield settles over the area.
An extra safety precaution, even though I’ve already wired the Sky-Flyer for constant stealth mode and we’ve shut down all other electronics.
“You going deaf now, old man?”
I can’t help it. He’s brooding. It’s beyond annoying.
Mainly because I am too.
We’re both begging for a way to let off some steam.
He just needs a little coaxing from me.
As his eyebrows drop in warning, my right tilts up in amusement.
No growling. No puffed-up chest or displays of dominance.
Just his knife, hurtling towards my jugular.
A spike of adrenaline, narrow in focus, and lightning fast reflexes sends his blade back at him. As he snatches it out of the air, I launch myself towards him.
He meets my tackle head on, crouching down and angling his shoulder towards mine. The crunch of bones colliding cracks through the air, his fisted knife aiming towards my abdomen.
Ignoring the pain radiating from my shoulder, I sweep my forearm down onto his and jab my other fist towards his ribs. Fire licks through my torso as his blade slices just above my hip, too shallow to cut any organs, but painful all the same.
Grinning from ear to ear as my knuckles connect with his ribs, I don’t dodge his punch. Agony flares in my jaw, spearing through my face and into my brain. Using his close proximity, I clamp my fingers around the wrist of his knife-wielding hand and wrap my other arm around his nape. Yanking down, I jam my knee upward, ready to smash his nose in.
Without warning, gravity pulls me backward, Vander’s skull pile-driving my chest into the ground.
Sneaky bastard dove into my yank instead of trying to pull away.
With a seized diaphragm, I push through the lack of oxygen and twist my wrist, forcing his jab away from my torso. His blade rings against stone, the jolt of its hit vibrating up my arm and loosening my lungs' paralysis. Sucking in a deep breath, I stretch my arm further around him and grab the opposite side of his chin, my forearm blocking his view. Encasing his head with my arm, I squeeze until his noggin can’t budge from my chest.
“Too bad there’s no sand to bury me in, eh old man?”
His growl vibrates into my sternum, amping up my adrenaline. Blinding white agony shoots through my thigh as he kicks off the ground and lands his weight on me via his left knee.
Unable to move the limb, my other leg reacts, hooking behind his right knee and jerking him sideways, off my pinned thigh. As I twist my hips to roll, his blade slides across solid stone, the harsh ting of sound moving towards my side.
Contracting my arm and shoulder muscles, his jaw pops as I cause him to contort, hips arcing the opposite direction of his chin.
His knife lurches closer, the cut above my hip pulsing.
His grunt of agony precedes explosions in my right side as he punches me again and again with quick, powerful jabs.
Unable to defend myself without letting go
