You stared at the horizon, watching as the last brush strokes of dusk were submerged beneath the snow-dusted tree tops. The gathering clouds losing their orange tint as deep shades of purple filled the landscape in the absence of sunlight.
Your eyes had locked onto those of one of your captor’s before they ducked down into their tent, and a sneer crept up onto your lips.
“Joke’s on them,” you thought; teeth chattering as your fingers adjusted their grip along the iron bars of your cage.
“Their hair is going to turn white before they can find someone to pay that ransom money.”
Aside from your penniless relatives, you were a stranger to the world - and while that was normally something that you oddly took pride in, it was proving to be less than advantageous at the moment.
Your captors had a small campsite erected, and an atrocious one at that. Their tents were lopsided, and composed of scanty burlap fabric that hung loosely from their makeshift frames. The fire had died an hour ago, and they had no wood reserves prepared to last them through the night.
You expected that with their total lack of planning and basic survival skills, they had about as poor a chance as you to make it through the night.
How brain dead do you have to be to venture out, unprepared, into the wilderness at this time of year? Sure no one would be able to find you, but that was only until they discovered your thawing carcass in March.
In retrospect, you were more upset that you had allowed such simple-minded low-lives to capture you in the first place; despite the increasing likelihood that you would freeze to death in a cage.
However, despite the resentment you felt towards them, you had to give credit where credit was due.
They knew how to lure you in.
Omegas do have a tendency to show an unwavering soft spot for children, and using a voice-altering quirk to feign the sound of an injured child calling for help had proven successful, and admittedly quite ingenious on their part.
So there you sat, slowly but surely freezing to death for following your damned instincts.
None of those thugs intimidated you though, and you let them know that.
All it took was for one of them to get handsy before you were slammed face first into the snow for spitting in his face. Some might consider your behavior idiotic, but the men were all skin and bones, and by the smell of it they were all Betas too.
You couldn’t pretend to be threatened by them if you tried.
Despite being an Omega yourself, you had always been a little different from the rest.
Betas couldn’t seem to hold any superiority over you, and even most Alphas couldn’t elicit a shudder of intimidation from you.
Your grandmother had always said that it meant that you were a queen among men; submissive only to the king you were still trying to find; that you were ‘the queen of omegas.’
Or as your mother liked to call you, ‘a hard-headed bitch.’
Though at that moment, fighting back the buildup of tears that had accumulated beneath your lashes, you had never felt more like a weak, helpless omega.
You held tightly to the bars of your cage, your watery eyes reflecting the snowfall that began floating down from the heavens.
A sight you had always admired was now aiding in your death.
You lowered your head in defeat, squinting away the tears.
‘My stupid quirk is useless right now!
I don’t know what to do. This can’t be the end, this can’t be how I-‘
Your own thoughts interrupted themselves as your tear-blurred eyes latched onto a pointed black shape poking out from the wooden floor of your cage.
Your body heat had allowed some of the snow beneath you to melt, and you reached out a shivering hand to prod at the object, feeling its cold metallic form between your fingers.
With a quick tug, it dislodged from the damp wood, and you twirled it around in your fingers.
You wiped away your tears on the wrists of your sleeves, your hopeless stare turning into one of cautious revelation.
It was a risk, but…
‘I’d rather freeze to death in freedom,
than in a cage.’