Chapter 109: 16.4.2
The laughter echoed around the rotting barn, a coarse, grating sound that didn’t quite penetrate the thick, warm fog enveloping Koen. He lay on his side where they’d left him, curled slightly around the pronounced, tender swell of his belly. The violent churning of his heat had been replaced by a profound, liquid stillness. He felt heavy. Warm. Full in a way that was deeply, primally satisfying.
His conscious mind—the part that knew fear, shame, and the sharp scent of his mate—was submerged. It was gone, concussed into silence by the brutal rhythm of the last hour. What remained was simple, soft, and desperately needy. Omega brain. It processed in baser terms: bred, claimed, full. Safe?
The alphas had bred him. They had filled him. Therefore, they would care for him. This was the order of things. His body, humming with spent hormones and the foreign heat of multiple loads settling deep inside him, craved the proof. It needed the weight of an arm over his waist, the scratch of a beard against his neck, the low rumble of a satisfied alpha’s breath against his ear. That was what came after. That was what held the swirling, cozy warmth together.
He made a small noise, a questioning murmur from the back of his throat. He nuzzled weakly into the filthy hay, seeking a scent that wasn’t rot. His fingers, trembling, splayed over his bloated stomach. He was keeping it all safe. For them. They would be pleased.
Across the barn, Rorke kicked at a loose floorboard. “Two gold crowns says it’s at least three. Look at the swell on him. He’s built for litters.”
Larkin snorted, taking a swig from a waterskin. “Four. Demon blood’s gotta make him extra fertile. He’ll pop out a whole gang of little half-breed freaks.”
Their voices were just sounds, meaning nothing. Koen’s omega brain latched onto the tone, waiting for the affection that should follow such possessive talk. It didn’t come. He whined, a little louder this time, and pushed himself up onto one elbow. The movement made the warm liquid inside him shift, and a thin, pearlescent trickle ran down his thigh. He ignored it, his glassy orange eyes seeking out the shapes of the alphas in the gloom.
They were gathered near the door, passing a bottle. Not looking at him.
A fissure of cold cut through the cozy fog.
He made a louder sound, a plaintive chirp that usually made Gabriel stop everything and cup his face. “Mmh?”
Rorke glanced over, his expression one of mild annoyance. “Quiet down, bitch. We’re talking.”
The words were blunt stones dropped into the still pool of Koen’s headspace. Ripples of confusion spread out, eroding the warmth. Wrong. This was wrong. Bred omegas were petted. Soothed. Held. He’d done his part. He’d taken them all, he was keeping their seed safe, his body was a testament to their use of him. Why were they so far away?
He tried to get up, his limbs uncoordinated and weak. He slipped in the mess beneath him, falling back onto his knees with a soft thud. The impact jarred his full belly, and a small, pained gasp escaped him. He crouched there on all fours, head hanging, a picture of abject vulnerability. His back was a map of scratches and drying filth.
“Look at him, presenting again,” Burne chuckled, not unkindly, but with a detached amusement. “Greedy thing.”
But he didn’t move. None of them moved.
The cold fissure widened into a chasm. The warm, full feeling began to curdle into something hollow and aching. The silence from the alphas wasn’t just an absence of touch; it was a vacuum, and it was sucking all the certainty out of him. His breathing hitched. He whined again, a continuous, thin sound of distress that he couldn’t stop.
They were ignoring him.
They’d used him and were ignoring him.
The simple logic of his omega brain short-circuited. If they weren’t going to hold him together, then what was the point of all the fullness? What was the point of him? The warmth inverted into a scalding panic. He began to tremble, a fine, violent shaking that started in his core and rattled his teeth. A sob broke free, wet and ragged.
“Will you shut him up?” Rorke grumbled, rubbing his temple. “He’s giving me a headache.”
“He’s just needy,” Larkin said, shrugging. “Demons are clingy, I heard.”
Koen’s world was collapsing into pure sensory failure. The barn walls pressed in. The air was too thin. The comforting scents of alpha that had saturated him were now just smells, distant and offering no anchor. He was adrift, overloaded, and breaking. His whines climbed into high, desperate keens. He scrabbled at his own arms, blunt nails leaving red trails on his tan skin, as if he could physically peel away the crushing wave of abandonment.
He was seconds from the cliff edge. The keening was becoming one continuous, silent scream, his body seizing with the intensity of the psychological freefall.
“For fuck’s sake.”
The voice was closer. Not an alpha voice. A beta voice. Tired, irritated, but moving.
Elias, the beta who’d fucked him with grim determination, strode across the barn floor. He didn’t look at the alphas. He knelt in the hay beside the trembling, keening omega, his face a mask of pure exasperation.
“Alright, alright, you’re fine,” Elias muttered, his voice rough but low. He didn’t hesitate. He reached out and pulled Koen against him, maneuvering the boneless, shaking form so Koen’s back was against his chest. He wrapped his arms around Koen’s middle, over the distended belly, and held him firmly, pinning his arms down to stop the scratching. “Shhh. Enough now.”
The effect was instantaneous.
The violent tremors reduced to shuddering quakes. The silent scream dissolved into choked, wet hiccups. Koen went limp against the beta, his head lolling back onto Elias’s shoulder. A broken, grateful sound vibrated in his throat. He nuzzled blindly against Elias’s jaw, scenting him, desperate for any anchor. The vacuum sealed. The world had edges again. He was being held. He was contained. The spiral stopped, leaving him hollowed out and clinging.
“What in the seven hells are you doing, Eli?” Rorke asked, watching with bemused curiosity. “Playing nursemaid?”
Elias glared over Koen’s head. He kept his hold firm, one hand stroking clumsily over Koen’s shaking forearm in a repetitive, soothing motion. “You want him brain-broken? Is that the plan?”
“What are you on about?”
“Look at him!” Elias snapped, his composure cracking. “You just pumped him fuller than a festival keg and then walked away! An omega’s mind goes simple after a breeding like that. All they know is they’ve been claimed, and if the alphas who claimed them don’t… don’t ground them afterwards, it shatters them. They can break. Permanently. Stop being a person. Just become a crying, useless hole.”
The alphas fell silent. Larkin and Burne exchanged a glance. Rorke’s brow furrowed. “That’s a thing?”
“Yes, it’s a damn thing!” Elias hissed, adjusting his grip as Koen whimpered and pushed back harder against him. “You see noble alphas after a big ritual breeding? They don’t just zip up and go have a drink. They coddle their omegas for hours. It’s biology, not sentiment. You idiots just thought he was being needy.”
Rorke looked at Koen, who was now quiet except for ragged, slowing breaths, his orange eyes slitted and unfocused, staring at nothing. The violent panic had receded, replaced by a dazed, exhausted compliance in the circle of the beta’s arms.
“Huh,” Rorke said, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He took another drink from the bottle. “So we broke him in more ways than one. Good to know.” He tossed the bottle to Burne. “Keep an eye on him, Eli. Make sure our investment doesn’t crack. We’ll need him functional enough to sell.”
Elias didn’t answer. He just held the half-demon, his expression unreadable, staring at the opposite wall as Koen’s breathing finally, slowly, evened out into something close to sleep.
koen’s conscious brain is currently gone. just koen’s omega brain is present and all it knows is that these are the alphas that just bred him and that means they’ll hold him together in the aftermath. but they don’t and koen starts spiraling his simple headspace unable to understand why the alphas are ignored their newly bred omega. while koen’s spiraling is getting worse and worse none of the alphas seem to be doing anything about it so one of the betas steps in. while the beta didn’t wanna fuck koen he is more than happy to give the omega physical reassurance. koen was just a couple seconds away from breaking before the beta stepped in. one of the alphas ask why he’s comforting the omega, the beta explains that if an omega is ignored after breeding it can psychologically break them. the alphas didn’t know that, they just thought koen was being needy