Kidnapped

Alpha Rhyker called a few trusted omegas to his study. He wanted to personally assign them the task of bullying Korra because it seemed they were not torturing her enough since the order was not direct from him. 

“I want her watched,” he said simply. “Push her more, corner her. Take what little she has: food, rest, peace. If she is dangerous, she will lash out. If she is weak, she will cower. Either way, we will know.”

The omegas exchanged uncertain glances. One of them, a burly man named Halven, known for his strength rather than his brain, cleared his throat. “And if she fights back?”

Rhyker’s gaze turned icy. “Then I will know what to make of her.”

**************

The next day, Halven cornered Korra outside the storage shed.

“Out late again, rogue?” he drawled, blocking her path. His two companions stood behind him, smirking.

“I was asked to clean the kitchen,” she said quietly, holding her gaze just below his chin enough to show respect, not defiance.

Halven stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the bitter tang of ale on his breath. “You think you are clever. You think because the heir looks at you, you can slink your way out of anything.”

Her heart thudded, but her voice stayed calm. “I don’t think anything, sir.”

He grabbed her wrist suddenly, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. “Then remember your place, omega.”

The moment his grip loosened, she slipped free in a quick, fluid, and silent precision. Her body moved before her mind caught up, instinct guiding her in the dark.

Halven blinked, startled by the sudden motion. For a moment, he had seen it: the speed, the precision, the hint of something dangerous beneath her quiet facade.

But then she lowered her head again, murmuring, “I am sorry,” as she backed away.

When she was gone, Halven turned to his companions, unease flickering across his face. “She moved like a shadow,” he muttered. “Not like any omega I have seen.”

*************

By morning, word of the incident reached Alpha Rhyker.

“So she ran,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Halven hesitated. “She didn’t fight. But… there was something strange about her. She could have…”

“Could have what?” Rhyker cut in sharply. “Killed you?”

Halven’s mouth went dry. “No, Alpha. I just…she’s fast.”

Rhyker’s eyes darkened. “Fast won’t save her, double the watch, push harder.”

**************

That evening, Kael stormed into his father’s office.

“Enough!” he roared. “You have turned the pack into vultures circling a wounded bird!”

Alpha Rhyker didn’t flinch. “If she can’t withstand a few whispers and empty plates, she’s not fit to breathe in this pack, much less lead it.”

“You are testing her cruelty,” Kael shot back, his voice breaking with frustration. 

Rhyker’s gaze flicked up to meet his son’s. “You mistake compassion for weakness, Kael. That girl’s presence already divides the ranks. You would risk your pack for a rogue’s pretty eyes?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “I would risk it for the truth.”

Rhyker rose slowly, his dominance filling the room. “Then watch her, watch her fail. And when she does, you will see what mercy costs a leader.”

Kael slammed a hand on the desk. “You are intentionally being blind! She is enduring. She’s trying to survive the pack that hates her, and you call that deceit?”

“She will never be Luna. I will not let a weak rogue stain this bloodline.” Alpha Rhyker shouted.

Kael’s breath came fast and ragged. “Then maybe you don’t deserve a Luna at all.”

For a long, dangerous moment, they stared at each other, father and son, Alpha and heir, bound by pride and torn by love. Then Alpha Rhyker’s expression darkened further.

“You are dismissed,” he said. “Before you say something you cannot take back.”

Kael turned on his heel and stormed out, his heart hammering. He knew his father wouldn’t stop, not until he had driven Korra to her breaking point or worst, get her killed. 

**************

Korra could not shake off the feeling of restlessness that had enveloped her since the day began, and now that she lay on her bed, she could not sleep as dread overwhelmed her whenever she closed her eyes. 

She tossed and turned beneath the thin blanket, her breath shallow, until a sudden weight pressed down on her and a rough hand clamped over her mouth.

Her eyes flew open as her heart was hammering violently in her chest. Panic exploded through her as she tried to scream, but the calloused palm swallowed the sound, muffling her mouth. She kicked, clawed, and thrashed, but her body was no match for the strength that pinned her down.

Another hand gripped her wrists, forcing them behind her back. She tried to twist free, but the more she fought, the tighter their hold became.

“Keep quiet,” a voice hissed in her ear. 

“Hold her,” one hissed. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Don’t let her bite,” another growled. “She’s still a wolf.”

Her heart hammered so hard it drowned out her thoughts. Her wolf stirred inside her chest, weak and flickering like a dying flame. ‘Run…’ the instinct was primal, but there was nowhere to go. They dragged her from the bed, her bare feet scraping against the cold floor.

They walked for what felt like forever until she heard it, the soft, steady rush of water. It was a stream, and the moonlight glinted on its surface, making it look deceptively peaceful.

“Stop,” the leader said. “Here.”

They shoved her forward. She stumbled, falling to her knees at the edge. The stream wasn’t wide, but it was deep and fast, the current swirling black beneath the moonlight.

Korra looked up at them, her chest heaving. “I can’t swim.”

The men exchanged glances, uncertain for the first time. One of them sneered. “You’re a wolf, and wolves survive. You will swim.”

“I’m begging you,” she whispered, her voice broke. “Please, don’t”

“Enough.” The leader’s tone hardened. “If she’s truly one of us, she will find her way out.”

Before she could move, hands shoved her hard from behind. Her world tilted as cold water swallowed her whole.