Todos los capítulos de Omega Hunted : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

The freighter dropped me off on a dark, wet rim planet far past the central sector scanners. It was a dirty industrial port where the air smelled like rust and old oil. Nobody asked for identification here, and nobody cared who you used to be. They only cared if you could work.I found a small room above a repair shop in the lower level of the port. It had a thin bed, a sink, and a lock on the door. It wasn't much, but it was safe.My money was running low. The coin Oliver gave me paid for my ship ticket and a week of rent, but I needed a job to buy food and stay hidden.I pulled an oversized worker's jacket over my clothes to hide my body and zipped it up to my chin. I had bought a cheap scent-blocker patch at the starport and slapped it over the gland on my neck. It burned my skin, but it covered my Omega scent so I just smelled like a tired beta worker.I went out into the muddy streets to look for work.First, I tried a cargo bay near the landing docks. Ships were unloading metal

I spent three days in the strategic war room, buried in security footage and flight logs, barely sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Theodore alone in the city, terrified, carrying my child. The guilt sat like a heavy stone in my chest."Commander," my lieutenant said, stepping up to my desk with an encrypted datapad. "We tracked the origin of the private credit token used at the docks."I stood up instantly. "Where did it lead?""An unregistered cargo transport," he said, tapping the screen. "It cleared the upper atmosphere twenty minutes before the palace ordered a total orbital lockdown. The pilot didn't log a flight plan, but harbor records show it makes six stops across the rim."Six planets. Millions of off-grid laborers hiding in lawless, unregulated ports."Assemble a light scouting vessel," I ordered, picking up my duty belt. "Off-record."The lieutenant hesitated, his jaw tight. "Sir... His Majesty explicitly ordered a full battalion deployment. Four battle cruise

The rain kept coming down all afternoon, pounding hard against the diner windows.By six o'clock, the small room was empty. The only sound was the low hum of the old television hanging over the counter. My boss was in the back breaking down supply boxes, so I was alone in the kitchen, wiping off the metal counters with a wet rag.I kept my head down, trying not to think about the men from earlier. Four hundred thousand credits. Hunters. Syndicates. Every loud sound from the street made my chest tighten up.Suddenly, three loud beeps came out of the television speaker. It was the emergency signal the palace used when they took over every screen in the system.I stopped wiping the counter and pushed through the plastic curtains into the front room.The screen flickered. The local news disappeared, replaced by the big press room inside the royal palace.My breath caught in my throat.A woman stepped up to the microphone. Mom?I stared at the screen, holding the edge of the counter so h

THEODORE'S POV The scrap truck dumped its load five miles out at the recycling yards. I waited in the dark until the driver shut off the engine, then climbed over the metal wall and dropped into the mud.My jacket was ruined. The front was torn open, exposing my neck where the scent patch used to be. Every block I walked felt like walking through a minefield. Without a patch, any Alpha who crossed my path would smell me instantly.I walked three miles through the dark back streets toward the diner. It was four in the morning when I reached the alley door. The building was completely dark, the front neon sign shut off.I knocked on the door. Three short taps, then two slow ones.The lock clicked, and the door swung open.My boss stood in the doorway holding a dim flashlight. She wore her faded work shirt and boots, her grey hair pulled back into a tight knot. She looked at my torn coat, my muddy jeans, and the raw skin on my neck."They stripped your patch," she said."Please, let me

The front window of the diner had been completely blown out. Glass shards covered the wet pavement outside, glinting under the dim streetlamps.I stepped through the shattered frame into the dining room, my boots crunching over the debris.Then my nostrils flared, and my chest locked up tight.Theodore had been here.He had been right here minutes ago. The scent was still fresh.I drew my sidearm, held it low against my thigh, and kicked through the plastic door curtains into the back kitchen.The small room was a disaster. An iron frying pan lay tossed near the rack, and a tin mug was smashed against the far wall, dark herbal tea dripping down the stained concrete. Near the back door, the diner owner was curled up on her side, clutching her face with both hands, groaning in pain.I stepped over the spilled tea and stood over her.Her hands were slick with blisters, the right side of her face and neck scorched bright red from boiling water. Skin was peeling near her jawline, but her l