Caged: an Omegaverse Reverse Harem Romance: Golden Cage Omegas, #1

By Mona Black

Finding out I am an omega in a world ruled by betas is only the beginning of my troubles…

 

Alphas and omegas are considered non-humans. We're considered animals, some of whose traits we share. Furry ears and tails, anyone? Oh, and also mating cycles.

That's right.

Fun.

Not something I thought I had to worry about. See, I thought I was a beta. I thought I was human. I thought I was safe.

And things only get worse from there.

My parents are killed by a pack of rogues and I run away, heading to the city—but there I'm captured and sent to the Golden Cage.

A place where omegas are kept to be sold to an alpha pack.

To the highest bidder.

I came to the city to find a gang of boys I met many years ago, to beg them for help, but instead, I'm being sold to an unknown pack, the choice not up to me.

What are the odds that the gang of boys I once knew, all grown-up now, would bid for me?

 

* CAGED is a full-length Reverse Harem Omegaverse standalone novel. No shifting happens in this book. It contains M/M and steam.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Wing Press
• Release date: Jan 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215177150

Book preview

1

ELLA

W ould you look at that, darling? These days they’ll bring in just any trash from the street, a sugary female voice drawls. Straight from the sewers and into the Cage.

Overripe omega trash, another says, instead of someone from a good hearth. You’re right. Stinks. I can smell it from here. I knew our numbers had dropped and we need fresh blood, but this is a fall from grace, I say.

"May Rhea save us."

I don’t turn around to look at the women talking. I keep walking, my head down, my heart racing. I want to lift my hand and touch the back of my neck where I have hidden my pendant before it was taken from me, sticking it into my tangled hair, but my hands are bound together.

A slave. A prisoner.

My breathing echoes funny in my ears. Or maybe it’s my heartbeat I hear, a war drum beating wildly in my veins, in my temples. I’m shaken. Shattered.

Following behind a beta woman in a long black dress that trails on the ground, myself followed in turn by two beta guards in their yellow uniforms and with spears in their hands, I’m not sure if this is a pleasant dream or a nightmare.

Points in favor of it being a pleasant dream: I was fed before being brought here, warm food accompanied with clear water to drink, and was assured I wouldn’t be harmed.

I didn’t believe that, of course, but then we entered this building and the place frigging gleams. It stretches in every direction, opening into gardens with dappled light and gurgling fountains, the marble floors decorated with geometric patterns, shiny enough to reflect the high ceilings with their swinging chandeliers. Gold tesserae glint in the walls, parts of intricate mosaics.

Gold is everywhere, gold cloth on the chairs, the curtains, the tablecloths—but the chairs and tables themselves also seem to be cast in gold. I see golden chandeliers and candle holders, bowls and decorative balls. It’s blinding. Nauseatingly shiny.

Probably a tribute to the name of the House: The Golden Cage. Or else the place took its name from the amount of gold in it. Who the hell knows or cares?

To soothe myself, I run my thumb over the old scar on my palm. But the rope around my wrists chafes, and I stumble when the woman in front of me pulls on it.

I’m on a leash. Like a pet.

Because I’m an omega.

Alphas and Omegas aren’t considered humans. Product of a mutation hundreds of years ago, or so the story goes, we were crossed with animals and retained some of their characteristics. Now packs of us roam the Wastes and cautiously eke a living out in the cities, if we’re lucky.

Well, the packs mostly consist of alphas, to be exact. Omegas are much fewer, mostly girls, like me, and…

Is this the new one? a new voice says, startling me, and I stumble to a stop. Another beta woman, this one so tall and broad-shouldered she could have been an alpha. Though alpha females are rare and they wouldn’t have one here… would they? Bring her to me, Calliope. A quick examination and then take her to be deloused and bathed, get that stench off her.

Yes, Keeper.

She’s not going into heat, is she? Don’t tell me this is what the terrible smell coming off her is?

I don’t believe so, Keeper. She’s just as filthy as a rat coming out of the sewers. And she’s an animal, all right.

I’m not an animal, I hiss, incensed, tugging on my leash. Let me go.

Hm. Claws, I see. The Keeper’s black mantle drags behind her on the floor as she leads us into a large room decorated with statue busts on short pillars.

I don’t have actual claws, of course. I don’t have that trait. But the moment she turns and pushes my matted hair back, my dark cat ears become visible.

Just the ears? She glances at the woman who brought me to the Cage, Calliope, brows lifted in question. She starts pulling my sleeves down to bare my neck and chest. No other mutations you could see?

Stop touching me, I hiss, twisting away from her. Leave me be.

Apart from being so difficult to handle? Calliope sighs. None that I noticed, Keeper.

No tail?

No.

So we don’t know what animal she is, the Keeper says.

Looks like a cat to me. A street cat.

Was your mother a cat, girl? What, you don’t speak? Cat ate your tongue? The Keeper snorts, even as heat washes over my face.

My mom was a beta, I snarl. My parents were human.

So they often think. A brief look of regret, or something like it, crosses her strong features. Animal traits sometimes don’t manifest for entire generations, allowing non-humans to think they are like us. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Tsk."

I bite my lip not to yell at her, to tell her again not to touch me. I have to be patient, bide my time. I’m at a disadvantage and I knew that, coming to Crest City.

I just hadn’t realized how out of my depth I would be. How quickly the local Cage would get their hands on me. How fast I’d lose my freedom.

No tail. Cat ears. Okay, we can work with that. Where are you coming from, girl? Were you hiding under our noses all this time in the city?

I come from the Wastes, I whisper.

A savage! The Keeper titters. How terrible.

I pay her scant attention, trying to get my racing heart to slow down, my mind to work. I have to get out of here. Escape.

Ears. Tails. Fur. Claws. These are traits that manifest late for girls, if at all. For Omegas generally, in fact. Alphas, who are mostly male, show their true nature much sooner, growing tails, furry ears, sometimes even horns and claws.

I’d say alphas have it worse, being so numerous and so feared for their strength and savagery. They are often left to fend for themselves at a young age, shunned and abused, having to live in packs for their own protection.

Meanwhile, omegas have it easier. Fewer than the alphas, not so feared, sought after by the packs. Omegas aren’t so bad off.

Or so I thought until now, sheltered by my parents on a vardo farm out there, living far from other people, away from the cities and stations. It had its risks and difficulties, for sure. I often complained bitterly to them, demanded we move to a city, see people. To have running water, and electricity, not to have to slaughter animals for food or spend our days on our knees tending to the vegetable patch.

And it had its fair share of danger, as it was just proven to me, from marauding rogue alpha packs such as the one that killed them.

Did my parents suspect I’d present as omega? Had they known? How could they have, though? The mutation appears randomly, or so it seems.

So. The Keeper walks around me, letting my leash hang to the ground. A cat girl.

What does it matter? I mumble.

What does it…? She gapes. Are you seriously asking me this? You need a pack of your animal or you’ll have strange hybrid babies that may or may not survive.

"I don’t want any babies," I mutter.

Well, tough. You’re an omega and that’s your purpose in this life.

I honestly want to spit in her face. Holding back is a feat. Why, don’t beta women have babies? How do you reproduce? Do you hatch from eggs or something?

She slaps my face, and I hiss, putting a hand over my heated skin. You don’t get to compare yourself to a human, she says quietly, her tone lethal. "And it doesn’t matter what you want. You can’t remain unbonded. You’ll be in danger."

And in that case, you won’t get your money, I breathe. That’s what you really care about.

Well, yes, there is that too.

What kills me is that she’s right. An omega who is not bonded is in danger of rogue alphas and generally alphas going into a rut from smelling her. They are rarely held accountable for their actions if they assault an omega in heat.

I’m not staying here, I whisper. You have no right to keep me.

The laws protect the citizens, she says silkily. The betas. From the likes of you.

I’m human, I mutter. No matter what you say.

Why so combative? So contrary? What happened, girl? Where is all this rage coming from? She touches my cheek in an annoying show of pity. Oh. Sorrow. You lost someone. Your parents, I assume.

But I didn’t expect the blow she would deliver. Don’t⁠—

Were they killed?

Please—

Was it Rogue alphas? She twists the knife in the wound. They must have smelled you. This is on you.

It’s not my fault! I whisper. I haven’t had my first heat yet.

Hm. Maybe you thought it was a fever. Many young omegas make that mistake. Catching the scent of an alpha nearby may have triggered it, caused the ripening of your womb. You seem old enough for it.

No. I shake my head. No. I didn’t cause this.

I didn’t cause their death, please, no…

You see now why it’s important you stay here? Why this is in everyone’s best interest? Even if in the city we don’t have many rogue packs, sometimes they do climb the cliffs and roam. Here you will be readied and auctioned to the appropriate parties. See if any of them is interested in a flea-laden kitten like you. She taps a finger against her lips. Those eyes, though. Pretty. Hopefully, you’ll clean up well.

I’m shaking, trying to control myself, to bury my emotions back down where I have kept them for all these days as I made my way to the city.

She frowns as if reading my thoughts. You were found right under the cliffs. Don’t tell me you walked here on your own from your vardo farm?

I nod, hunching my shoulders.

That explains the dirt. And the smell. You were lucky you weren’t eaten by dragons, or raped by the same alphas who killed your family. How did you escape their fate, by the way?

I was out, I manage, still shaking. My teeth chatter in my mouth. I’m so cold all of a sudden, all my energy draining away, the determination that brought me all the way here leaving me. I thought I saw… I thought I saw a vehicle on the hills, thought it was…

Thought it was who?

I shake my head. Nobody.

Goddess. I almost blurted out their names. What am I doing? I must be in shock. That would explain how I was caught by the Cage guards, too, too slow to run away.

The Keeper is gazing at me with that frown lingering on her broad face. Whoever you were hoping to find out there, girl, you’d better forget them. Thank your lucky stars that we found you before you became fodder. Now, go with Calliope and get yourself as clean as possible. Then we will see about identifying your animal and getting the auction process going.

How did I end up here? How is this all happening?

I was supposed to find Brock and Dies, Mad and Jus and Luke. The Wasted, they had called themselves, laughing about it. They never said why they were out in the Wastes on their own, though it wasn’t hard to guess they were orphans from one of the many stations and vardo farms. My parents had taken them in for a while and we had been inseparable.

But like with all inseparable things, separation eventually became inevitable. They left; said they were going to look for work. That they’d go to Crest City.

And they had promised they’d be back one day. They were supposed to come back, help us. Help me.

They never did, though, and maybe they were never here, in this city. They lied to us to get shelter and food, to spend a season with us, sheltered and fed, and then lied about their plans.

What else would you expect from children? From anyone in the Wastes? I guess I should have seen it coming. But back then I had been a child myself, and I had trusted their words.

Now I’m an adult and I see that coming here was a mistake. Did I really think they’d take me in like we had taken them in back then, help me out in my hour of need?

Maybe when I get out of here, I should just head out of this city and back to the Wastes with its dragons, giant scorpions, deathbirds, and rogue alphas. At least out there you won’t find any Cages, any ruthless guards to grab you by the hair and drag you after them anywhere they like, or any Keepers about to sell you off to the highest bidder.

You won’t have any hopes binding you.

At least out there, you’ll know what sort of dangers to look out for.

A bath is a good thing, I tell myself as Calliope picks up my leash again and pulls me out of the room, as I stumble after her when I get distracted by the frescoes on the walls and the polished marble on the floors and she tugs too hard. I’m in desperate need of one after trudging through the Wasteland for so long, in the heat and dust. So I should stop snarling like the animal they consider me to be, stop resisting for now and let them bathe me.

I have to remind myself again when two women come to take my leash and lead me in yet another direction, severing the tie to Calliope, the first person I met on arriving at the Cage. Fighting off sudden panic, I turn my head to watch her go as we take another corridor, until I lose her from sight.

It’s okay, I tell myself. She’s not your ally or anything, she’s just a person in charge who took your leash when you arrived. Sticking with her wouldn’t solve anything anyway.

But I feel like I’m tumbling down a rabbit hole where everything is new and unknown, where everyone watches me with suspicion and disgust.

No, it’s not my impression. When we finally exit into the cobbled yard and then enter another building full of steam—the bathhouse, I presume—the two women shove me toward the steam, grimaces on their faces.

I’m not scrubbing that animal down, the light-haired one says, turning away. I could catch something.

I’m not either. The dark-haired one shudders, letting go of my leash. You can clean yourself up, catgirl. Go.

Fine. I don’t need anyone to scrub me. Never needed one before. Turning, I make out a sunken pool through the steam cloud and start toward it.

This is so weird, I think as I walk to the edge of the pool and start undressing. It’s as if betas are torn between considering us omegas fragile creatures, delicate girls who can break—and we are as a rule more delicate than beta women so there is that—but at the same time dangerous animals that can harm them in various ways, with our claws, our diseases, our uncleanness.

I’m not ignorant. My parents did their best to protect me from the world, but we had visitors, both welcome and unwelcome. Patrols who stayed overnight on our farm. Mercenaries passing through. Merchants seeking shelter. Dragon hunters. All of them alphas, the ones commonly chosen for hard, dangerous jobs as those, both because of their greater stature and physical strength and for the fact that they have animal traits and are therefore animals whose lives don’t matter.

Like mine.

Only they never knew I was an omega. I hadn’t presented yet. My ears only started changing recently, and even then, you had to lift my hair to see them.

I wade into the hot water, hissing when scrapes and bruises I don’t remember collecting start to burn, making themselves known. The water smells acrid. Some natural hot spring must flow below here, the water slightly blue with minerals. I sink in it until the water is up to my chest, then go all the way under, scrubbing at my oily hair to dislodge the dirt.

I don’t want to think about what the Keeper said, but I can’t stop her words from echoing inside my mind.

Rogue alphas? They must have smelled you. This is on you.

No.

Maybe thinking of one brought it on. You seem old enough for it.

No!

I break the surface with a gasp, wipe the water from my eyes, and if some salty tears are mixed in it, nobody will notice.

Poor people who end up with an omega daughter or son are often in trouble as alphas come knocking, trying to steal her whenever she or he goes into heat. The solution is to sell their child the moment she or he presents as omega. We become a commodity, chattel to be traded. In their minds, at least they get some money and know that their daughter or son is claimed by an actual pack, not impregnated by a rogue alpha and left behind to raise the babies.

That’s what matters in today’s run-down world. Having enough credits to replace your generator if it breaks down, to buy fuel, to buy clean water. I was born into this world, never knew a different one, and I understand poverty. I’ve seen it.

My parents never considered selling me. They kept me. And then…

Is the Keeper right? Was it my fault? Did they die because of me? Did they…? Holy crap, I don’t want to think, don’t want to wonder. I just hope they didn’t suffer much as they passed…

Juno, I miss them already. Miss them so much. A sob racks me but I can’t let the sadness take over me, not in this place. It’s not safe to relax here, to lose control.

Cupping water in my hands, I wash my face, wash the tears away, and struggle for breath.

Get yourself together, Ella. You have to get out of here. Forget Brock and the others. They probably don’t even remember who you are. Coming to the capital was a stupid idea. Get out and take your chances, run as far as you can.

2

BROCK

J us! I yell. Get your ass back here! We’re gonna miss the ride up!

Where the hell is he? Diesel mutters, putting a hand on his gun as if he’s gonna shoot everyone. He looks like he’d like to. His short dark hair is sticking up in spikes and his puma ears swivel, tracking sounds. That fucker.

Calm your tits. I’ll find him, Madden says, turning and limping away from our group toward the gate of the elevator enclosure. His hair gleams in the late afternoon sunlight like gold, dark cat ears poking out, and his long tail swings back and forth as he dives into the crowd.

Mad! Dammit, come back here! I start after him and Diesel grabs my arm, stopping me short. Fuck off, Dies. We’ll miss the ride.

Diesel’s grip is like a steel ring around my forearm. He doesn’t let go.

Oh, for Juno’s sake.

The ancient elevator taking people up to Crest City, the capital of the region—mostly residents returning home but also the occasional visitor from the Wastes—is about to take off and Justice is off somewhere doing fuck knows what. The next ride is tomorrow morning and Diesel knows this. So what’s his problem?

Let go! I snap at Diesel. Why the hell do I have to yell at you all the time?

Diesel scowls at me. You lead.

I lead but you don’t listen to me. Fuck… I’m not your leader. I never offered to be. Except when Luke went missing, I had to step in and take his place. If you wanna take my place, feel free.

I yank my arm again and this time he releases me, muttering under his breath.

I didn’t hear ya. My tail lashes against my legs.

I said, fuck you, Brock.

Gritting my teeth, I set off to find the other two assholes. Expecting an apology from Diesel, or anything that might indicate even remotely any feelings other than anger, is wasted time.

As is expecting Justice to act responsibly for once, it seems.

Or Madden to let me take care of things and not aggravate that old injury of his.

Dammit all. As I shove people aside to get to my pack members, as various betas recoil and other alphas glance at me with a flash of comradery mixed with a healthy dose of suspicion, I see them at last.

Madden is hauling Justice away from a kid he’s been talking to, and from the grimace on his face, I know Madden is in pain, and it pissed me off even more.

Stupid Justice.

Jogging over to them, I grab Justice’s other arm and pull.

Hey, Brock, did you see that kid I was talking to? Justice keeps trying to see over his shoulder, his long red braid swinging. Hey, kid!

Dammit, Jus, shut up! Madden growls through his teeth, his jaw clenched and I can’t quite tell if it’s pain or annoyance this time. We have an elevator to catch.

But he’s from Anaua! Justice’s voice rises.

I almost stumble over my feet, coming to a sudden halt. What did you just say?

He’s from Anaua! Very close to where we stayed that time after presenting⁠—

Shut up, Madden hisses, rounding up on Justice. Don’t be stupid, you can’t say that word out loud with all these people⁠—

Jus, I butt in, "we searched Anaua