Azalea didn't have time to think. She knelt on the cold, unyielding porcelain floor, her heart racing. Trembling, she frantically rummaged through the medical kit and finally found a tube of translucent blue liquid – the suppressant!
"Granley," she gasped into the phone, "How long does the suppressant last? Intravenous injection, right?"
"Yes, IV.” Granley answered, “Two hours for a regular Omega... but you're turning into a primal one, so it'll only buy you ten minutes tops."
Outside the cabin, the commotion raged, resembling a horde of ravenous, red-eyed zombies charging toward her. Before she could react, the Alphas reached her cabin. Her tiny medical sanctuary was battered and shaken, like a fragile boat facing a merciless storm at sea, teetering on the edge of destruction.
Azalea clung to the edge of the sink, tied her arm with an elastic band, and with trembling hands, tore open the packaging, removed the protective cap from the syringe, and, trying to keep steady, injected the blue solution into her vein. As her heart raced, the suppressant reached her gland cells and began to take effect. The scent of her pheromones became milder, and the indicator light turned green again.
But outside the cabin, the agitated Alphas were still shouting, laughing manically, fighting, and killing. She could hear thuds against the cabin door, possibly the remains of limbs and weapons being thrown. She was like prey ensnared in a trap, her limbs ice-cold and trembling, desperately wanting to call for help through the phone, but her mouth was paralyzed, and no sound came out.
“Azalea?” Granley Shaw's voice sliced through the chaos, strong and resolute. "I've picked up your pheromones. Stay strong... And if that tattoo is still there, keep it hidden."
“Okay…” Azalea replied with a trembling voice, her fingers grazing her arm where the telltale ink resided.
Their connection remained steady as Granley propelled himself into the heart of the maelstrom. Amid the swirling tempest of bodies, he dispatched seven or eight assailants with ruthless efficiency, yet more surged forward with a fevered intensity.
To make matters worse, the suppressant's effect began to wane, the seductive scent of rhododendron saturated the air again, overpowering the filter's capacity. The indicator light ominously shifted to red, reflecting the primal fervor of the mob beyond her tenuous sanctuary.
"Too many of them," Granley's voice came through the communication device, each word punctuated by the heavy rhythm of his breath as he battled through the encroaching Alphas. "Can you hold out for thirty minutes?"
Azalea didn't answer. Her concern wasn't for the safety; she knew that as a primal Alpha with professional military combat training, it was merely a matter of time before Granley Shaw neutralized the lower-ranked Alphas. What weighed heavily on her mind was the aftermath.
She was resolute in her desire not to be claimed by an Alpha already bonded to another, a bond that no one could break. Moreover, under the strict suppressant regulations of the Solar Union, the only relief from an Omega's heat cycle was pregnancy, which was not possible for her. Her reborn body lacked the essential features required for the development of a uterus and ovaries, rendering her effectively immune to the relief mechanisms available even to male Omegas.
Listening to the ongoing sounds of battle on the other end of the phone, she gritted her teeth and made up her mind.
"Granley, do you have my backpack with you?" she asked.
"Yes, and do you still have suppressants?" Granley inquired as he quickly subdued two Alpha assailants, adjusting his earpiece's volume.
"No, it's something else... On the side of my backpack, there's a small dark brown medicine bottle. It contains a capsule; can you pop it open?" she instructed urgently.
"Understood," Granley replied without further questions. He swiftly located the capsule in her backpack and opened it.
"Snap!"
In an instant, a rich floral scent burst from the capsule into Granley's hand, enveloping him in its alluring fragrance. It brought forth an overwhelming surge of joy and fulfilled desire, as if he'd entered a realm of pure love and ecstasy. Simultaneously, every Alpha in the vicinity paused, turning their attention to Granley with a hunger that suggested they'd just found the most delicious prey.
Granley sensed the gravity of the situation. "What on earth is this?!"
"My synthesized pheromones.” On the other end of the phone, the Omega, frail yet composed, whispered, “But a million times more potent ...Every Alpha out there now sees you as the ultimate irresistible temptation. You must run, Granley. Don't hesitate; escape before they catch and claim you."
The phone line abruptly went dead, and Granley Shaw couldn't help but mutter a curse under his breath. His reaction was swift; without a moment's thought, he sprinted in the opposite direction of the Omega cabin. Behind him, a relentless horde of hundreds of frenzied Alphas pursued, their pursuit fueled by the overpowering instinct to mate.
###
After a considerable wait, the clamor outside finally settled.
With cautious deliberation, Azalea opened the cabin door. Despite her mental preparations, the sight that met her was nothing short of terrifying. All the billboards, decorative paintings, and greenery were shattered into pieces, the ground covered in a chaotic mix of fire extinguisher powder and bloodstains, trampled upon by countless disheveled footprints, and the shattered glass made a grating noise... Even the security robots, originally intended to uphold order, now lay in disarray, their limbs strewn about. She realized that if she were to remain there, her fate would be no different.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The stomachache had somewhat subsided, but the suppressant's efficacy waned rapidly, lasting a mere five minutes amidst her recent heightened stress and elevated blood pressure. A light-headed sensation washed over her. Her body exuded the cloying scent of rhododendron, a scent that urged her to seek refuge at the nearest Omega hospital. Her plan was to navigate through the road signs and hail an automated taxi there.
Suddenly, a cascade of heavy footsteps approached from behind.
"Hey, Omega sweetheart, feeling a bit pent-up down there? Need us Alphas to assist you with that~" came the lewd chuckles and whistles of three straggling Alphas emitting an intense, pungent scent.
Azalea's nausea surged; panic flashed across her eyes. Without hesitation, she broke into a sprint. Despite being weaker straggling Alphas, they still held a physical advantage over an Omega. As her heat cycle extended, her rationality waned, leaving her drawn to their salty Alpha scent, her steps uncontrollable.
"Dammit!"
Azalea bit her lip, struggling to maintain clarity. She finally reached the taxi pickup point, only to discover that all the vehicles had been vandalized.
The trio of Alphas in pursuit drew closer, gradually cornering her against a wall. They bore predatory smiles, approaching unhurriedly. As they advanced, their shoes crushed the shattered glass beneath, emitting a sinister crunching sound. With careless abandon, they kicked aside the remnants of broken robots. The overpowering scent of their Alpha pheromones left her in a daze, rendering her legs like jelly until she could no longer stand. One of the Alphas attempted to take advantage, but his advance was met with resistance. In the process, her clothes tore, revealing the tattoo on her upper left arm.
It was a vivid depiction of a blue whale leaping gracefully from the water, mid-air in a display of elegance and nobility.
The Alphas present paused briefly, their gazes tinted with disdain and mockery. One of them sneered, "Oh my, you're one of those Earth descendants, aren't you? Well, we won't be gentle then."
Azalea stood silently in the midst of the wreckage, her exposed whale tattoo seemingly forgotten, as if she'd lost the will to fight back or flee. Her glasses were lost amid the chaos, rendering her vision incapable of distinguishing distant shapes or reading the road signs. With her sight blurred, her sense of smell heightened, capturing the alluring scent of pheromones mixed with the overpowering Alpha presence, causing her head to spin. All hope had abandoned her. With trembling limbs and a heavy heart, she could do nothing but await the most tragic of fates in eerie silence.
Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, a sleek silver-gray car roared onto the scene, splitting the hunting party with the authority of thunder. Screeching brakes punctuated its dramatic entrance, swiftly creating a barricade between Azalea and the trio of Alphas. The car door swung open, revealing a sharply-dressed figure in a black suit with matching gloves.
"Get in the car," the man extended his hand to her, his voice firm and commanding.
Azalea, without understanding why, trusted that voice and reached for his hand. She squinted her eyes, struggling to see clearly, and at last recognized his chiseled features emanating a calm yet intense aura that uncannily mirrored her deepest memories.
[https://i.imgur.com/teEtMhg.png]
"Galaxy Enlight?" Azalea whispered his name.
Seeing their prey almost slipping away, the frenzied Alphas vaulted over, clutching Azalea's wrist and forcibly pulling her from the vehicle. She screamed in sheer panic. Meanwhile, the other two Alphas jumped into the car, fists poised to strike the beta!
Azalea struggled on the ground, feeling the fiery grip of the Alpha's hands. She grasped a nearby robot limb and swung it with all her might, connecting with precision. The Alpha momentarily staggered, allowing Azalea to kick him away. She attempted to rise, but her limbs betrayed her, leaving her in a powerless daze on the ground, where the car fight continued.
Struggling to open her eyes, Azalea watched as the Beta took charge of the situation. He seized the Alphas by their collars, ruthlessly tossing them out of the car alongside their weapons. The Alphas emerged battered and bruised, clearly devoid of their fighting spirit. At that precise moment, the third Alpha, picking up a riot baton from the previous chaotic encounter, plotted to ambush Galaxy Enlight from behind.
"Watch out!" Azalea intended to shout, yet all that escaped her lips was an awkward moan.
The baton sliced through the air, threatening to strike Galaxy Enlight in the back of the head. But in the nick of time, he shielded himself with his arm, a thunderous crack echoing through the scene, sending shivers down Azalea's spine.
Undisturbed, Galaxy Enlight swiftly grabbed the baton and flung it aside. He promptly neutralized the Alpha with a series of calculated moves, ultimately securing the man to a nearby charging post using his own belt.
With the immediate threats neutralized, he approached Azalea and lifted her with almost delicate care, as though she were a fragile doll. Thanks to the Omega heat cycle, her skin had become hypersensitive and prone to pain, yet his touch was soothing and gentle. He settled her in the passenger's seat and secured her seatbelt.
Despite being a Beta, his scent was as comforting as the fragrance of pine trees in early spring after the snow has melted. Azalea gazed at him through her large, dreamy eyes, her heterochromatic pupils giving her an otherworldly allure. She contemplated asking for help with her glasses, but before she could utter a word, he had already retrieved them, meticulously cleaned the lenses, and aided her in wearing them. Instantly, her vision sharpened, and the first thing she saw was his golden, honey-like gaze, brimming with concern and warmth, like the return of the sun after a long bout of rain.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," Galaxy assured her with a gentle yet unwavering smile. His voice was crisp and reassuring.
"Please," Azalea clung to Galaxy's arm like an octopus. Lost in the throes of her Omega desires, she implored, "I'm burning up. Help me. I want you..." Her flushed face, ragged breaths, and beseeching eyes pleaded for his mercy.
Galaxy’s demeanor remained composed, and his eyes conveyed care and reassurance. He paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating the situation. Then, he responded with a wry smile, as if finding something rather amusing. "No, you don’t. You're simply suffering from your own creation."
He gently withdrew his arm and placed a small, rectangular metal object in Azalea's hands. It had a cool, soothing feel, like a pristine stream flowing through her veins, bringing peace to her heart, mind, and soul, and satisfying the thirst for harmony.
"Keep hold of this; it will help you heal," he assured her, gently covering her exposed skin with a blanket.
Then with the roar of the engine in the background, the silver vehicle swiftly carried them away.