Beginning of Chapter 23

Rue hated the world.

She hated how everyone loved Alphas, sank on their knees with open, willing lips. It seemed that the Betas and Omegas of the universe were always begging to prostrate themselves before two balls and an inflatable dick. And suck.

Because that was all that they were good at: sucking Alpha cock, kissing Alpha ass, licking Alpha taint, doing everything an Alpha fucking wanted. It was as if dick were the sign of God, and balls were the fucking messiah.

For Alpha sons were all that everybody wanted in this accursed world.

And on that sad little ranking system there were the huge masses of Betas that populated the double digit planets—the not-quite disappointments, the proletarians for the bourgeoisie. The people that learnt craft and hard, heavy labour. They were the bulk of the working class, the blue-collared workers that farmed the lands and carried the weight of an Alpha's fat ass on their shoulders.

Crudely, Betas were the boys that did not have enough strength; did not have the thick rank of Alpha perfume; and they did not have the monster dicks that popped knots. Betas were the infertile girls that did not have Heats; did not slick up with pretty smells; and did not swell with generous milky tits, curvy waists, puffy folds, and stretchable pussies that could take a knot.

Betas weren't as obsessed with reproduction as the other sub-genders were. And so for Alphas, Betas were convenient infertile toys that worked. They were the dumb labourers that would wipe an Alpha's ass forever.

Sometimes Rue considered the merits of being Beta instead, masquerading as the country's most average position. She would learn the trade of housekeeping from an older Beta, and settle for a normal job as a maid. She'd spend her days hauling produce, burning fingers, and carrying sobbing children on her waist. She'd meet the occasional Alpha rapist—one that might try to kill her, disregarding the knowledge that Beta women couldn't take an Alpha knot. But it would be a far better position for a woman.

Perhaps even a position that would have Omegas staring with lip-bitten envy.

With a stamp of servitude forever on her head, Beta Rue could have lived a relatively stress-free life without the eyes of Alphas on her and the weight of a fake dick heavy between her legs. She'd earn a meagre but steady sum and later survive quietly on the outskirts of town.

However, Betas were servants. And even those that lived within packs were seen as lesser beings. It didn't matter if they had a bite mark on their necks and bouquets of fresh flowering hickies on their skin. A Beta's life began and ended with their knees on the ground—invisible, dull and lesser.

Living as a Beta could be way worse than an Omega's. For Omegas could swell fat and full with an Alpha son. And Omegas could purr and whisper sweet nothings to an Alpha, turning them into puppets for cunt, sobbing for love.

If Omegas were sex toys and breeders, Betas were just glorified slaves.

A Beta's freedom was exchanged for a label of worthlessness, and thus a limit to what Rue could have. And so, Rue had grown greedy for education, for knowledge, for growth. She became greedy for the richness only an Alpha could experience.

The money, the houses, the vehicles, the luxury. She wanted it all.

Rue was greedy as an Omega—where even the richest of girls would be sold to an Alpha, where the only form of work (no matter the social standing) would be to sell one's body. Rue didn't want to play life safe, climb a low-risk stepladder to an average position.

She wanted to soar into the skies.

And Rue had been so sure that once she reached the ends of those clouds, she could stand so tall that no one would doubt her, and no one could bring her down. She'd grown confident, she'd grown cocky. So now here she was before an Alpha that wanted her destiny, threatened her survival. A crisis. It was only luck that she had power rushing up her body, power that she used to hold him back with her fingers around his throat.

She coined it as a drive to survive.

And right now, there was nothing she could do to hold off Valentino who'd seen too much, heard too much. A madness twitched in her brain, a rush of violence that stirred within her like an animal cornered to fight. She could kill him, and she might. Her eyes swept to the bob of his throat. The quiver of his lips. She stared at the protrusion of incisors already growing in his mouth, ready to bite, ready to collar her like cattle. She'd take him down with her if she had to. It didn't matter if they were friends. She'd kill him before she allowed him to take her, chain her, fuck her.

She'd kill him before he fucked her like an Alpha would fuck an Omega.

"Valentino," her voice was quiet, sharp, soft. "What makes you so sure," she drawled in a hiss, found strength in the pauses, "that I'm not Beta?"

There was a twist in his brow, a dip as if he hadn't considered the elusive little sub-gender that wasn't quite as pretty in his story. But Rue had those similarities, and Rue could be Beta. With her monstrous strength, her lack of pretty Omega scent, her pussy. He just didn't know she dripped, and her body was made for reproduction. "B-beta," he echoed, caught in the suggestion.

A twist of devastation painting his cheeks, and Rue sneered at him. It was fucked up that he was disappointed, disappointed that she was the sub-gender meant to clean, serve, and sweep. The sub-gender that would only take Alpha cock dry, painful, and bloody. A pussy that wouldn't be able to take a fat knot the way he wanted her to. It was clear that it'd been a possibility that was last in his mind—a pussy seen and already he was aiming for Omega.

"I…"

Her smile was sharp. "You don't want me. You just want a wet pussy to fuck."

"I—" there was a widen of his eyes, as if he were catching on to her words, her feigned anger that she wrapped deep in the truth. "N-no, I," his lashes fluttered, butterfly wings sticky with almost tears.

"Haven't considered it, have you? Buried in your delusions of my sub-gender, you'll leave once you know you fuck me too hard I'll die—"

"O-of course not!" Fuck. Rue cursed in her head at his determination. "There are ways—"

"Ways to knot me?"

Valentino's jaw clenched; muscles darted. "I don't care about that."

"You're eros," she snarled. "Eros fuck rough. You told me your tails weakened because of me. You only wanted me to fix them."

"I don't care about the state of my tails."

"Forget about me, and your psychotic beliefs—"

"I want you. My tails will take no other. It has always been you—" His voice clawed with his plea. And the sing in them had her glare softening into incredulity.

"Gods, Valentino," she laughed. "I preferred it when you hated me."

"I love you."

The snap of her answer was immediate. "Why?"

He paused, but there were no other words that escaped his pretty lips, mouth parted and eyes wide. The confession had escaped his lips in a strange lilt at the end, almost like a question, like a response squeezed out of him. And with her snappy remark back, she'd stolen the fire from him, and he was slipping, stumbling through his lies. She observed him, watched as he sweated and quivered at her lack of reaction to his words. His tongue flopping uselessly as he tried to create more excuses between pinched brows.

But Valentino could not speak under her stare, eyes widening in horror, redness tinged in his pupils—beginnings of Rampage.

With a new sub-gender thrown his way, his plans had begun to unravel. And he was lost in his thoughts, in his attempts to convince her. And Rue knew that in the single digit planets, there were no Betas that lingered in their halls, no need for a pack to take in a Beta as a permanent, pretty housekeeper. For they were rich, so rich that their servants were Alphas. And perhaps it was why he'd been so adamant that she was Omega.

A Beta was worse than an Omega on the planet of the Eros.

And to be with a Beta would be the most scandalous sin.

Her snarl was icy, like shards, like cold. She stepped forward to him so close she could almost hear his heart thundering between them. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, fingertips touching bare skin. Gods, this wasn't what she wanted. And yet, she had to be stronger, had to quieten the esper.

"Listen carefully," she hissed. "You can try to fit me into your little schemes. You can try to fuck me up. But you don't want me to kill you, and I will." She couldn't recognise the growl that left her lips, but it swept out of her, raw, ragged, and animalistic. Her nails dug into his flesh. And he flinched as crimson swam in his eyes, his breath escaping him in ragged pants. "I'll slit your fucking throat if I have to. I'll cut out your fucking tongue. I have nothing to lose in this world. I'm prepared to die if I have to. "

"Rue," he whimpered, there were tears already bubbling in his eyes, brows furrowing, lips quivering as if she were the one tormenting him, as if she controlled him. It was as if she had the power to hold him down with her words, his body weakening with each vowel, each syllable.

 She waited for Rampage, for his tentacles to strike for her throat. But instead, his breath escaped him in soft pants as if the air had grown thin. His knees shook, body slumping against the wall, and his tentacles fell along with him. The boys were right. They couldn't strike her as long as her skin touched theirs, couldn't grow mad with Rampage. For the redness was fading from his eyes with the twist of her fingers, knuckles pressed to his chest, flat against the dip where his heart should be.

Valentino hiccupped around the words. "T-This isn't w-what I wanted." These were words that she felt as if she'd heard before. "But I just, I just love you." This had his confidence returning in a small voice with pleading eyes. "I only want the best for you."

She paused, regarded him carefully. Fuck. It seemed that he wouldn't back down so easily, and he was determined even when he thought of her to be Beta. Rue pondered for a moment. Perhaps she could still use him, give him a bone to suck on, provide herself with extra time to solve the new conundrum.

Perhaps she could use him if she had to.

"Alright," she answered, sealing her fate with a long, angry sigh. Fucking Alphas. Her eyes narrowed then, rage coiling in her throat.