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  Twisted Fates

  Hidden Gems Series Dark Omegaverse

  Book Three

  A.R. Ford

  Twisted Fates

  Hidden Gems Series Dark Omegaverse

  Book Three

  A.R. Ford

  Copyright © 2020 by A.R. Ford

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, transmitted, photocopied, scanned, faxed, or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please contact the author to obtain permission to use parts of the book for other purposes.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2020

  www.authorarford.com

  [email protected]

  The characters, places, and events in this book are figments of the author’s imagination. Any similarities with persons living or dead is merely a coincidence.

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to Carol Demornay, my wonderful editor who knows where my creativity has strayed, and to my ARC and beta readers. Thank you. I could not do this without you.

  Warning:

  This book contains mature themes and potentially triggering material intended for adults 18+. It is written in the omegaverse trope. If you are offended or triggered by such material, please do not buy the book.

  If you are unfamiliar with the omegaverse trope, please familiarize yourself before purchasing or reading this book. You have been warned.

  Chapter 1

  Kade: Twenty Years Earlier

  “Mama! Bad men are coming from the beach!” I screamed, legs pumping faster than they ever had before. A twisted premonition filled my gut that my efforts would not save my parents. Nausea threatened. I fought it back, focusing instead on my mother.

  Mama turned. She raised both eyebrows in surprise at my warning. Papa stood beside her in the garden. They worked the rich, dark earth together early in the morning before the heat of day made it miserable to do so. My parents remained side by side as they had throughout their life together.

  Rata tat tat!

  The deafening sound of a gun’s rapid fire behind me brought Papa’s shouted warning to run inside our cottage, and hide. An odd pattern of crimson circles appeared on his shirt a moment later, only to be followed by the appearance of a similar pattern on Mama’s shirt. Surprise filled their eyes. Trickles of crimson contrasted sharply against their light clothing. A morbid waterfall flowed downward. It became a river before my parents collapsed on the ground.

  Rata tat tat!

  Another burst of gunfire brought screams. Other members of the village ran. More adults fell dead in the streets. People dressed in gray uniforms, carrying weapons, systematically shot the elders. The men herded boys close to my age, like cattle. Shouted threats forced my friends to move in the direction the men came from. Someone grabbed me as I stood transfixed in horror, eyes riveted to the place where my parents lay. There would be no time to grieve on this day. I swore then to make the men pay for their destruction of my life.

  The men directed us into transports. Indifference, or violence, came in response to tears, or outward signs of fear. More than one boy bore the bruises of an unkind hand. We were forced to behave as warriors on that day, by withholding our emotions, and refusing to acknowledge the traumatic impact of those events. Hours later, the transports landed. Once again, we were forced from the transports into a fenced-in area. Male Betas, carrying weapons, stood guard. One by one, two men forced us into a building.

  The examination rooms intensified the horror. Not certain of the purpose, I submitted, knowing to refuse the exam would lead to trouble. Those who resisted, or failed the exam, were herded through a door. The sound of gunfire forced an icy spear of terror through my gut. Refusal, or failure, meant death. I knew that much, for certain.

  It was only the beginning of the horrific experience that awaited us. Shoved in cells, like refuse in a waste bin. Forced to eat slop unfit for hogs. Those events marked the beginning of our imprisonment. Every few months, more exams were forced on us. Refusal occurred rarely. Those who did so, did not return to their brethren to huddle in groups on the floor of the cold stone cells.

  Years passed in the same manner. Alphas were important to those who ran the prison. One World. It was embellished on their drab, gray uniforms beneath the solitary crimson globe signifying their purpose to rule the entire world.

  Occasionally, an Omega appeared in the clutches of the bastard guards. My stomach turned when I saw what a pack of feral adult Alphas did to the first Omega. Her cries of fear, and pain, rang out in the corridor. By the time they were done, she lay dead on the floor of the cell.

  “Back!” a guard shouted. “What the hell did you do to her? You were supposed to impregnate her, not kill her.”

  The Alphas only glared, and growled, as their tenuous hold on their true nature slipped away.

  One World turned us into feral beasts who knew only how to destroy, and procreate. No longer were we proud Alphas who guarded their mates, and children, with their lives. No longer were we proud Alphas who protected, and nurtured the rare Omegas who should be treasured. Our need to destroy, and procreate, chaotically intermingled. The instincts ruled supreme every time a One World guard forced an unwilling Omega in the height of her estrus, into a cell. All died at our hands.

  We were no more than monstrous animals.

  Blood stained my hands, just as it did the hands of my brethren.

  Could I be more than the beast who raged, and mated, and killed? I doubted I could resist that side of my nature.

  During rare moments of lucidity, I chose to occupy my mind with plans of revenge. Only one Alpha the same age as I, dared join me. His need for vengeance was as intense as mine. Gorn became a close friend, and confidante. I swore to make him my right hand when the time came. We exercised in any way we could in the cell. We grew stronger; our muscles, and stature massive as we changed fully into Alphas.

  My brethren respected me. The guards feared me.

  Sweat stung my eyes. Abdominal muscles tensed, and relaxed, over, and over, again.

  “How many does that make?” Gorn muttered. He sat on the concrete floor observing as I worked through another set of sit ups.

  “One hundred.” The words escaped as easily as my body obeyed my demands.

  “You said the same thing the last time I asked.” Laughter rumbled in my friend’s chest.

  “Two sets of one hundred. Soon to be three.” My breathing remained steady. Control must be exercised, at all cost.

  “Gods! You’re a beast if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “I agree. Three hundred.” I mopped the sweat from my brow with one hand. Only now would I allow my body to rest. I sat with both arms draped across my knees, feet flat on the floor. “The guards grow lax of late. They call me the gentle giant.” Lips peeled back from my teeth revealed the brutal nature buried deep within me.

  “They do, do they?”

  “Those mistakes will lead to their demise. Be watching, and ready.” My voice dropped to a whisper as I gave Gorn the only warning he would receive.

  “Soon, hmm?” His voice mimicked mine in volume. Gorn was a crafty bastard. He would serve me well.

  “Sooner than anyone thought.”

  A guard took an extra step the next morning when he approached the cell to dole out an unusual treat of meal replacement bars.

  “Meal bars?” My voice assumed the same tone of surprise a child’s does when an unexpected gift is given.

  “Count yourselves lucky,” the guard chortled. “I hear the warden is bringing in an Omega. I thought I might give her to you bastards. Try to fuck her before you kill her.” A wave of lewd la
ughter bounced off of the concrete walls, and ceiling.

  Crunch. My fingers tightened around his throat as rage rose as unexpectedly as lava in an active volcano. The guard’s eyes went wide, spittle clinging to his thick lips as he struggled to breathe. There would be no air for him today. Crimson infiltrated the edge of my awareness. Gorn’s hand on my shoulder prevented me from ripping the guard’s head from his body.

  “There will be time for that later, Kade. He’s dead. Let’s get the key, and get out of this hellhole.”

  Gorn’s words were music to my ears. We were the first Alphas to roam freely in the corridor. The others remained silent when Gorn released them. A second guard stumbled upon two dozen Alphas, set on revenge. His shriek of horror ended in a strangled sigh after an Alpha clubbed him in the head with a meaty fist. The deep dent in the guard’s skull told us what all we needed to know. One additional key, and VLR, came into our possession after Gorn searched the guard’s body.

  “You take half of the Alphas, go north. I will take the others, and go south. Kill everyone who wears the One World insignia.”

  Gorn inclined his head. The group of Alphas followed him. I led my group to the south. Each, and every One World bastard who stepped into our line of sight, died painfully. Some were torn limb from limb in much the same way the Omegas who died at our hands did. What a fitting end to monsters masquerading as the saviors of this world.

  Every Alpha was free by the time Gorn’s group of Alphas reconnected with my group in the prison’s yard. A roaring chant filled the air. Powerful feet stomped the ground. We made our own music of celebration.

  “What now?” Gorn’s shout rose above the melody created by Alphas celebrating their freedom.

  My eyes traced over the outline of the prison, buried over halfway into the side of the mountain that towered hundreds of feet above it. The building was more secure than anything we could build in a short period of time. “We clean the prison of One World stench. Then, we make it our own.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Gorn acknowledged. He scanned the Alphas milling about in the yard. With an almost imperceptible lifting of his chin, he motioned toward the others. “A leader will be necessary to accomplish anything of value.”

  Laughter rumbled deep in my chest. The ominous sound a faint warning in the same way thunder’s first rumblings warn of an approaching storm. “Have no doubt as to who will rule Barkjour Isle.” My attention turned to Gorn. Would he accept my offer? “I would have you lead the army as my right hand.”

  Gorn shook my hand—his grip as powerful as my own. The age-old tradition sealed our commitment. His words doubly so. “I would be honored to lead your army, Kade. What of the others?”

  “They can follow when I assume control, or die as the One World bastards in the prison. It matters not to me what their choice is.”

  Gorn stood silently at my side as we watched the others remove the bodies from the prison---each new corpse heaped atop the others, until a mountain of death lay before us. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air. A second celebration began when the flames rose high above the ground.

  “What is your first order?” Gorn scratched his chin while speaking. His actions were relaxed in a calculating way. My respect for him grew. He had no wish to reveal our plans to the others. Anyone who observed us would gain no insight into our conversation.

  “I will announce my position when the time is right. You understand now is not the time? For now, collect all armor, weapons, and ammunition. Complete an inventory of our spoils. We sleep as free men tonight. Tomorrow, we begin building our city. We will never be taken prisoner, again.”

  “The men would not react well to a new leader. They need to taste freedom to appreciate it.” Gorn bowed his head. “The Warlord of Barkjour Isle has spoken. I should attend to my first orders.”

  The Warlord. The name more aptly described me than the others knew. A dark pit filled with rage, and an inherent need for violence, lay where my heart once resided. For now, I held tenuous control over the seething cauldron.

  *****

  Five Years Earlier

  “We have completed work on the wall around the yard. A crew works to lay the launch pads for transports in the designated area.” The older Beta arrived on Barkjour Isle a year ago. He demonstrated a talent for construction, and managing those who volunteered for projects he oversaw. As always, he demonstrated appropriate respect when speaking with me. He stood a few feet from me, waiting patiently for my response

  “Do you like it here, Albrecht?” I stood on the steps of The Garrison looking out over the yard.

  “I do, sir. I have a home here. You treat me with respect. I appreciate the opportunity to demonstrate my skills for the good of Barkjour Isle, and those who live here.” His response came readily. Not once had Albrecht given me anything but his best work.

  “Barkjour Isle is lucky to have you.” My attention shifted to Gorn, and Berenger, as they approached in the distance. “Thank you for the report. I should allow you to attend to your duties, now.” The tone of my voice shifted in such a way as to dismiss Albrecht. He took the release with a faint upturning of the corners of his mouth, and a bob of his head.

  My attention returned to the duo mounting the steps. If I considered Gorn my right hand, Berenger truly assumed a position as my left hand. I could not value one man over the other. My rise to power depended intrinsically on them. Gorn interrupted my train of thought with a report on the latest acquisitions.

  “The last assault in the northeast quadrant of the mainland, added two dozen VLRs, twenty Alphas, and a hodgepodge of armor. Not to mention their entire food store, and medical supplies. Berenger is pleased,” Gorn’s chuckle communicated his amusement as well as his grin. He, and Berenger, stood with me. Their attention focused on the final touches to half a dozen minor projects underway in the courtyard.

  “Variable laser rifles? What a weapon!” I exclaimed. “And from the bowels of a prison rise a great people.” The firepower of a single VLR outclassed other firearms. Adding that many to our arsenal could only improve our ability to protect the island.

  The accomplishments of my brethren in the past five years did not pale in comparison to those of other great civilizations. Yet, something was missing. A sense of emptiness filled me at times. What, precisely, would it take to alleviate the sensation of being incomplete?

  “You’ve drifted off into one of your fugues,” Berenger quipped, his eyes scanning my face. “I can almost see the dark clouds swirling overhead. This,” he waved a hand toward the various buildings throughout the courtyard, “is an impressive accomplishment. You made this possible, Kade.”

  “Hrmm.” The sound rumbled deep within my chest. “Yes, it is quite an accomplishment.”

  “And yet, you frown as if One World’s imminent demise means nothing,” Gorn pointed out what fearful others dared not.

  “Perhaps Berenger can diagnose my malady.” All this talk of my mood only intensified the darkness swirling in my mind.

  “You need a mate,” Berenger announced with one brow raised to emphasize the words. “A pair bond with an Omega would ease many of your worries, Kade.”

  I grumbled beneath my breath after spitting between Berenger’s feet. Let my actions speak for me. I needed no mate. “Why bother with a mate who would only hinder my progress? There are many willing female Betas to suck my cock when I want.”

  “I give up. I’m off to the medical bay to sort supplies.” Berenger tossed his hands in the air. He knew when to make a hasty retreat. Gorn lacked the same ability. He remained to taunt me.

  “He’s right, you know. The research gathered recently suggests that an Alpha-Omega pair bond brings peace to the couple.” Gorn clapped my shoulder with one hand. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just imagine what your first rut with an Omega in estrus would be like. I hear it’s better than any blowjob you’ll get from a Beta.”

  “I do not need a mate,” I growled, fi
sts clenching, then unclenching. Eyes narrowed to mere slits, I glared at Gorn in hopes he would take the hint, and drop the topic.

  An index finger held aloft wagged from side, to side. “Ah, maybe you don’t need an Omega. But every king must have his queen. And heirs to carry on the royal dynasty. Think about it, Kade. Have I ever led you astray?”

  I stood with both arms crossed on my chest. A snort of derision came an instant before the truth of Gorn’s words hit home. A queen would be required if I intended to rule as the warlord king of Barkjour Isle. A son would rule when my time on earth ended. The exact same location on my chest filled with such exquisite agony that I groaned.

  How could this be happening to me? Allegiance to the needs to conquer, and fuck, were the only ones known to the feral Alpha living within me.

  “Bastard,” I swore.

  “You know I’m right. Just admit it,” Gorn smirked, one hand straying to his chin to stroke the longer scruff growing there.

  “And where, pray tell, would I find an Omega? They’re rarer than peace on earth.”

  “When we fly to Marleche to scout for One World prisons, we could take some time for you to hunt for an Omega. You never know what you might find when you start looking. Rumor has it there is a reclusive group of Alphas, and Omegas, living on the island. They’ve isolated themselves from society. They live as the gods intended them to. Word has it that…”

  “You listen to too much gossip.” I fully intended to stop Gorn’s speech before he got wound up. Who knew how long I would be forced to stand listening as he rambled on if that occurred?

  Another odd stab of pain pierced the center of my chest. The heel of one hand massaged the pain away, dulling it to a sharp ache. My teeth ground together as I realized the nature of the pain. It could not be! The first stirrings of an Alpha’s need to control, and protect, grew stronger.

  Damn Gorn, and Berenger, to hell! Their nonstop drivel about mates, and Omegas, and pair bonds, woke something within me. Something I was unaware of until this moment.