Unhinged Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 4)

I stand motionless as the wind whips around me, my military-issue gray scarf snapping in the bitter gusts that kick up clouds of reddish dust. The dying man at my feet clutches his stomach as his blood soaks into the parched earth, turning the dust a deeper crimson.

‘Please,’ he begs, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Anything! Just… let me live.’

I study him with detached curiosity. This is the last one. The final Council loyalist that Arthur Maybrecht sent me to hunt down in the Outer Reaches.

The only thing standing between me and Cosima.

I’ve tracked him across three territories, following the trail of bodies and bribes he left in his wake. Now, as he bleeds out at my feet, I find myself oddly disappointed. For someone who managed to evade capture for so long, his end is remarkably… mundane.

‘There is no more information needed,’ I say calmly, my voice carrying easily over the howling wind. ‘We already know everything.’

And we do.

Every safehouse, every weapons cache, every dirty little secret the Council tried to hide. We’ve spent months dismantling their power structure, long before the Ghosts unwittingly did the rest of Maybrecht’s dirty work, piece by piece.

This man is just the final loose end.noveldrama

‘There has to be something!’ he protests, his voice rising with panic. ‘Money! I have access to weapons caches! Military-grade stuff, pre-war tech⁠—’

I continue staring at him blankly, utterly disinterested in his desperate offerings. My silence seems to unnerve him more than any threat could. I’ve found that people tend to fill silence with their own fears, their own guilt.

The wind picks up, carrying with it the stench of radiation and decay that permeates everything in the Outer Reaches. My coat whips around my legs as I watch him squirm, wondering if he knows just how thoroughly we’ve already stripped the Council of their power. How pointless it all was.

‘You’re working for that snake, Maybrecht, aren’t you?’ he spits suddenly, blood spraying from his lips. ‘He’ll turn on you the moment you’re no longer useful!’

A faint smile tugs at my lips. ‘Of course he will.’

My gun fires before he can respond. His body slumps to the ground, a neat hole between his eyes. Another body for the wasteland to claim. Another piece removed from the chessboard.

I pull out a monogrammed handkerchief—a gift from another lifetime—and carefully wipe the blood spray from my face. The white silk is already stained with countless similar cleanings, but I maintain the ritual regardless. Some habits die harder than others.

The man’s final words echo in my mind as I holster my weapon. He wasn’t wrong about Arthur Maybrecht. The financier is a snake, coiled and waiting to strike at the first sign of weakness.

But what he failed to understand is that I’m counting on it.

I turn away from the corpse, my boots crunching through the rust-colored dust as I make my way back to my vehicle. The heavily armored transport sits like a sleeping beast against the desolate landscape, its dark metal absorbing what little sunlight filters through the perpetually clouded sky.

Everything is proceeding according to plan.

The Council’s power structure has been systematically dismantled. Their weapons seized, their safehouses burned, their secrets exposed.

All that remains is to find Cosima.

But first… penance.

I take off my coat, the fabric rasping against my skin as I expose my right forearm. The metal cilice wrapped around it glints dully in the weak light filtering through the perpetual haze. My fingers find the chain attached to the spiked band, and I pull.

The avian bone barbs dig into my flesh and muscle with familiar brutality. Blood wells up around the metal teeth, but I keep pulling, tightening the chain until stars dance at the edges of my vision. A groan builds in my chest, but I swallow it down.

Movement catches my eye. There, hovering over the corpse I left cooling in the dust, a familiar shape takes form. The white ibis spreads her wings over the dead man, her feathers glowing with an otherworldly light that cuts through the perpetual gloom.

‘Purifying,’ I whisper, watching as she performs her sacred duty. Cleansing the violence I’ve wrought. Making it holy.

The vision turns her head toward me, those ancient eyes seeing straight through to my soul. Then, like smoke in the wind, she’s gone.

My fingers release the chain and I slump back against the driver’s seat. Blood trickles down my arm, staining my white shirt crimson. The pain radiates through me in waves, clearing my mind of everything except what matters most.

Perhaps I’ve earned this small mercy.

And there she is.

Cosima herself materializes before me, as vivid as the day I left her. Silver hair catching the light like moonbeams. Violet eyes filled with trust I don’t deserve. She reaches for me with delicate hands that have never known true violence.

‘I’m coming,’ I whisper to the apparition. ‘I’m coming for you, my love.’

Blood continues to seep from beneath the cilice, but I make no move to stem the flow. The physical pain grounds me, keeps me focused on my mission.

On my sins.

On what I must do to atone.

To be worthy.

The ghost of Cosima fades too soon, as always, leaving me alone with the weight of my choices. The body outside will be found eventually, another victim of the wasteland’s endless violence. No one will question it. No one will care.

Except the ibis.

She always knows.

Always watches. Always judges.

But I’ve simply done everything Cosima’s father asked. I’ve stained my hands with more blood, both wicked and innocent.

By all rights, even his, the omega is mine.