He wailed, but I didn’t let go.

“Feel every second,” I growled. “Remember this every time you even think about another Omega.”

That was what I told him before I grabbed his cock in my hand-not with lust, not with mercy, but with the precision of a man about to end something permanently.

He screamed beneath me, his voice splitting the hallway as his spine arched off the tile, his heels kicking against the floor, but I didn’t stop. I pressed my knees into the inside of his thighs and spread him open like an animal being prepared for slaughter. He didn’t deserve modesty. He didn’t deserve dignity. He deserved to bleed.

He squirmed under me, trying to twist his hips away, but I slammed them flat against the ground with one hand while the other gripped his shriveling little cock between my fingers. He was already soft, already shrinking in fear, and the smell of his urine mixing with the blood from his broken nose made me sick.

I looked down at it-at him-and laughed.

It wasn’t a polite laugh. It wasn’t amused. It was cold. Loud. Vicious.