Ruined Alphas

RUINED ALPHAS THE POISONVERSE AMY NOVA TABLE OF CONTENTS Content Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Epilogue Want more?! What’s Next In The Posonverse? The PoisonVerse Also by me! Copyright © 2023 by Mamonaku Press Edition 0.0 All rights reserved. Edited by Caity Hides Cover design by Marie Mackay No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Because of Marie… And Havoc. CONTENT HOLD UP! Is there anything I should be aware of as a reader? Oh hi! First up, you know you’re about to read a book written by an adult for adults, right? OK Cool, cool, let’s get to it. “Why choose” is the language I prefer to use when dealing with intimate relationships between multiple people, because, as I see it, everyone gets to choose love. Oh, and everyone is queer. Great! I’m down! What else? There’s discussion about childhood trauma and abuse, violence against women, and abuse by high control groups, trafficking (these topics are discussed and explored with limited graphic depictions on page). Discussion of food being withheld or used as punishment may be distressful if disordered eating is distressful for you. There is a mass casualty event with limited graphic depictions. No abuse happens between love interests on page. Got it. Understood. Noted. Other things that may be stressful… broken kneecaps, amnesia, concussions and broken ribs, waffle denial, pack brothers doing some fuckery for the greater good, really bad cocktails, ruthless sluts and a sunshine psychopath. I am so ready! How’s the spice? For me, this is medium spicy. It’s omegaverse so there is a heat scene and knots. IYKYK. And you caught the part about everyone being queer, right? BRING IT ON! Oh and who is your favorite character? Oh dear, you’ll have to stalk me on social media to find out! ONE LUTHER SAINT “Capture or kill?” “They haven’t issued a kill order. Yet.” Talon handed me zip cuffs. We were called in last minute for this job. Someone with a bigger paycheck than me didn’t think New Oxford PD could handle one tiny suspected omega terrorist. “We really doing this without Jackson?” I asked, snapping the cuffs to my utility belt and immediately regretting asking. Talon’s aura went all sharp and spiky. Cross just raised an eyebrow, scratching his short beard, and adjusted the MP5 across his shoulder. Talon could barely stand to be a mile apart from Jackson. Splitting up for two jobs in one night put the entire pack on edge. “Our objective hasn’t changed,” Talon said, ignoring my question. “We want to get to her first. She’s only wanted for questioning right now.” The system was not kind to misbehaving omegas. And Ruin Winters was a very bad omega. Ruin Winters was a social media starlet. Her signature jet black hair and black lips earned her the nickname “bombshell”. Appropriate, since things were now blowing up around her. She ran an omega mean girl tabloid blog. Some really nasty girl-on-girl violence. Outing people for affairs, plots to sabotage ball gowns, and other gossip taken to the extreme. The higher-ups were convinced she was working with the Reset, the notorious beta-run organization hell bent on bringing down the Alpha Omega Institute. Cross agreed. Well, he believed, given the level of technological skill it took to hide a person’s real identity on social media, that somebody with deep pockets was funding her. If Cross couldn’t find you, money had to be involved. We watched a huddle of men scurry across the parking lot of the warehouse facility. Talon pulled on gloves, balling his fists to get the fit right. He jutted his chin towards the men. “Cross, you shadow PD command.” My turn to raise an eyebrow. That was usually Jackson’s job. With his boy-next-door looks, people never saw Jackson as a threat. Cross, at 6’3” with shaggy beard, tattoos crawling up his hands and neck, was a walking billboard for the Gritch District’s most wanted list. “Luther, you take the south side. No cameras there.” I cracked my neck and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. We all knew that was a bad tactical decision given the state of my aura. So, I would be cooling my heels in the boondocks. I turned and stalked off before Talon could get into pep talk mode. “Hey,” he shouted at me, “No Leroy Jenkins nonsense tonight.” I rolled my eyes at the old gamer joke. I didn’t want to admit I had the habit of throwing myself into situations where careful planning was the better option. At least I had avoided a “buck up little camper” speech that wasn’t going to help, anyway. Nothing was helping. I pulled at the front of the flak jacket. I didn’t mind vests. They were like nesting for alphaholes, all swaddled up and cozy in Kevlar, leather and ceramic ballistic plates. But I couldn’t get comfortable in my own skin, so body armor was torture today. Patting the front pocket of the vest, I tried some of that deep breathing shit. I stashed a picture of my