Alpha's Possession by Jessica Hall

“What? Impossible! No Omegas pheromones sit above fifty-five. The score hasn’t changed for years,”

he said as he got up from his seat and reached for the paper in Mrs. Yates’s hands.

The awed look on her face didn’t fade while Mr. Black snatched the document and observed it.

“Eighty-seven percent pure Omega,” Mrs. Yates beamed as I gasped at her words.

“This can’t be real. Test her again,” Mr. Black huffed, forcing the papers back in her hands in disbelief. I

agreed with him, test me again. I thought. That is not something I want on my records.

“They tested four times,” she murmured. The grin on her lips nearly split her face in half. Her greying

hair almost looked white under the bright fluorescent light and I felt the blood drain from my face.

Then, out of nowhere, Mr. Black howled and broke out in laughter. “We just hit fucking bank, baby. Do

you have any idea how much we can get for her?” He all but jumped with joy.

“Wait, you said we would be auctioned together,” Zara intervened, while glancing at me nervously. As

always, Zara was ready to jump for my defense, while all I could do was stare at everyone in

horror. This can’t be happening!

Eighty-seven percent is an Alpha pack status level, meaning all Alpha Pack.

Panic enveloped me, spreading through my body like wildfire, taking over every muscle and sense I

could imagine.

“Things change; she is worth too much. She will be auctioned tomorrow. Fuck, she will bring in some

money, hopefully, enough to save this place,” Mr. Black announced.

I watched him flick his dark hair from his face. The paperwork miraculously appeared in his hands, and

he stared down at the score. I could almost see the dollar signs cha-chinging in his eyes.

“Wait! Stop! We are twins; you can’t separate us,” Zara still fought back, still voice despite me knowing

it was pointless.

Mr. Black sneered as his eyes flicked to her and narrowed slightly. “You’re owned by the state. You live

under my care, and raising Omegas costs a lot of money. She goes to auction tomorrow; never know

once you bloom. Maybe whoever buys her will want a spare.” He crackled, sounding as evil as never,

and wandered off while Mrs. Yates flashed us a smile full of pity.

“It’s alright, girls. You’ll fetch a high price, Harlow; that means your buyer will take good care of you,”

Mrs. Yates tries to comfort us.

Tears burned my eyes as Zara’s grip on my hand tightened. Sure, as if I didn’t know what she meant by

saying someone would take good care of me. As good as they can after bidding on me during an

auction to make a damn breeder out of me and to top it off, they’ll separate me from my twin.

*****

Zara’s gasp pulled me out of the nightmare memory, and I instantly looked up at the computer screen.

My heart slumped: five hundred thousand dollars.

I stared at my sister, and her mouth hung open, just as shocked as I. We kept waiting for the pack

name to appear. We had to see who had successfully offered the highest bid and won.

Yet the moment the name popped up, dread pooled in my stomach, a pit forming so deep I forgot how

to breathe.

Obsidian Pack.

It was a pack I had heard of, and not for good reasons. It was also an all-Alpha pack, that much I knew.

I shook my head as tears brimmed and spilled from my eyes, slipping down my cheeks and dripping off

my chin. Zara’s lips quivered. “No!” she gasped, horrified. They were notorious for losing Omega’s and

I would be no different.

Obsidian Pack had bought six girls over the years we spent here, and not one survived them; none

could take the Alphas knot. Not even with the serum. The other girls in the facility had nicknamed that

pack the Omega killers!

I swallowed the bile. “Maybe we can tell them no,” Zara suggested in a whisper, but it would do no

good. We were the property of the state and had no choice in the government’s eyes. Omega’s we

property because Omegas were the only way to continue an Alpha’s bloodline. We were revered and

special and apparently, fetch a special price.

All Omega’s ended up in packs. We didn’t get a say, but us even less because the state took us in and

left a hefty debt to us, therefore we are auctioned off to any potential suitors. We didn’t even get a

chance to meet our potential buyers.

Whereas if my mother was still here we wouldn’t have been auctioned off, she would have added our

genes to the pool and suitors would have to compete for us and we would have had overall say.

However, she was dead and the Omega sanctuary was our legal guardian in the eyes of the law, giving

them overall say.

*********

Instead, later that afternoon, I’m jabbed in the arm by the Alphas’ blood. It’s supposed to help us

acclimate to our Alpha. It also ensures the Alpha DNA is passed on to its potential heir because once

an Alpha marks its other pack members, their DNA changes.

Mrs. Yates sits with me while I rub my sore ass, where the doctor jabbed me with his DNA. Mrs. Yates

squeezes my fingers. “I’m sorry, Harlow, I tried to talk Mr. Black out of it.”

“That pack… They killed six girls. Six, Mrs. Yates, six girls!.” I whisper, aware that I’m the next one to

die at their hands. Or claws, teeth. Or knots!

“You’re stronger than the others,” she offers, but I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but…” she sighs; nothing

she says would make me feel better.

“Promise once I die, you won’t send Zara to him. I know she will test just as high; we are twins,” I beg

her.

Mrs. Yates nods. “I’ll do my best. Promise.” She nudges me and escorts me back to my room.

*************

A few days passed until the pack was on its way to collect me. Zara did my hair and make-up. She did

hers too, but I couldn’t figure out why. Despite her being the girly twin, she hated make-up just as much

as I did.

Today, I’ll meet my pack. A pack I want no part in. Yet, watching the clock only makes me more nervous

while Zara sniffles as she fixes my hair to look precisely like hers. We’re pulling on our matching

dresses when I hear the buzz of the pager telling me they have arrived.

My skin prickles as fear seeps into every cell in my body, but I feel cold when I get up to leave the

room. The moment I reach for the door, I feel something spray on the side of my face. I swat at it and

turn to see Zara holding some spray can in her hands. Tears blur her face as my vision blurs when she

resprays it again.

“Why are you spraying me with a descenter?” I ask while choking and coughing when some got in my

mouth. During my coughing fit, she jabs me in the arm with a needle. Before I realize what is

happening, my legs turn wobbly as I reach out for her.

Zara drags and tucks me into bed, and I fight to remain conscious. “Zara!” I murmur in panic.

“I won’t let you die, just know I love you,” she whispers, kissing my cheek.

What did she jab me with, and where did she get it? I can’t move as I watch how she scoops up my

bag and ID in horror.

That explains why she used make-up. She needed to cover the scar on her face. It was the only thing

that told us apart. Just before she walks out, she comes over to me. “When you wake, you pretend to

be me; I won’t let the Obsidian pack kill you. I know you hate this Omega stuff; I can’t let you go

through it. Escape and keep using the descenter until you do.” her words become softer as my vision

blurs and my surroundings slowly vanish as my sight is stolen by whatever she drugged me with.

“I love you, Low, now be a good Omega,” are the last words I hear before I drift into oblivion.

She took my place; Zara took my place and sacrificed herself for me. I killed her, killed my own sister,

my twin. A lone tear slipped down my cheek at that thought as my paralyzed body was sucked into the

oblivion of darkness.