His Darkest Deceit

Chapter 1

To fail within the academy amounted to certain death.

To shine, to draw our illustrious general’s attention, would result in ruin.

Every last recruit contained within the academy’s walls had been created by the human government of Risa Colony. We were owned by their military, our genetics mixed with the hostile planet's apex predator, the vorec. Given life for a single purpose—to protect humans.

Fail to perform in that purpose, demonstrate that you were unworthy of the vast expense and time spent in one’s creation and training, and your life was forfeit.

Once per annum, a compulsory evaluation was required for every hybrid recruit. A student would enter the cold-blooded General Cyderial’s office. My colleagues, friends who had grown up beside me—some would enter those doors and… never come out again.

I had learned from the age of five that if I portrayed a front of absolute mediocrity, I would mostly be ignored by those in power.

Never test too high, regardless of how well one comprehended the materials.

Do not build strong relationships with professors or staff.

Be immemorable.

Stay respectful but distant.

Friendships were for later in the day, in the privacy of dorms, when the vault separating the female students from the academy proper was sealed. Armed watchers—elite male guards—were forbidden from female spaces. With no one cataloging our every move, there was a semblance of freedom. Our own secret after-hours culture.

But where the watchers lingered, conversations were to be kept to an absolute minimum.

Making eye contact with an authority figure was tantamount to instant punishment.

Minor infractions could result in death.

Never get caught breaking the rules, break them in such a way that culpability was questionable. If you were apprehended, it was smarter to say nothing, accept the punishment, and leave without complaint.

With only six weeks until graduation, it was required that I endure only one final meeting with General Cyderial until my future placement would be decided. I had calculated the exact scores I would need to squeak by and maintain my façade of middling intelligence. With a ranking so unimpressive, I would be given the position of surveyor—a dangerous job for the more expendable hybrids.

A post the majority of my colleagues would cringe to be associated with.

One I greatly coveted. One where I could explore this fog-covered hostile planet with a small team of genetically modified hybrid humans like myself.

Leave the academy behind, forever.

I had no fear of the wilderness that surrounded our burgeoning city. I was mesmerized by what I might find within its dense mists. Heard the call of the beasts who lived there, and knew the fog was where I belonged.

One final meeting with a terror and I would be free.

I was so close to my ultimate goal.

And damned proud of myself for making it so far.

Formal uniform impeccable, brown hair pulled away from my face and tightly knotted at my nape, I walked through the general’s office door stiff with decorum—in exactly the way expected of me. The nature of the chamber was unusual for a workspace, the main area housing his desk past an extended museum-like vestibule.

But it was beautiful… so many pretty things on so many delicate shelves.

Once, when I was very young, in a fit of temper, I'd swiped a little geode off the fancy display near the door. I still had it tucked away where no soul would ever find it. It was pink, glittery, and still one of the prettiest things I had ever seen.

Even though I had been only twelve when I had taken it, I’m pretty sure that if he had ever noticed it was missing or had the general suspected it was me, I would have received far more than a beating.

Hybrids regenerated at an extreme pace, making torture survivable and a real threat to consider. Every student had seen the consequences of his wrath in those who failed to live up to the academy’s high standards.

Death.

It had not always been so bad for recruits. General Cyderial did not take the position of Academy Director until I was twelve. His predecessor had been stern but far more gentle. Too gentle, by Cyderial’s estimation.

He expected killing machines and perfect poise. There was no room for anything soft. Not when we were reminded that this was a boot camp for children. That we were being trained for war.

Against what? A planet where everything wanted to kill you.

That’s why humans had broken an ancient taboo and genetically modified select embryos for a higher purpose—so hybrids, like myself, might keep the humans alive and guarantee that the survivors of a desiccated earth might build civilization anew.

For a human mother to undergo the treatments and bear a hybrid baby was a guarantee of comfort for the rest of one’s short human years. It raised a family’s status socially and was done with great honor.

I had even been told there were some human women who saw gestating hybrids as their holy calling. However, it was not easy work to bear and birth my kind.

To bond with an exotic baby you knew you could not keep.

We looked more or less the same as our human counterparts, but hybrids were stronger, faster. For some, the reptilian Vorec genes were more dominant—iridescent scales blended with our skin. Unusual colorings in moments of high emotion.

Much of what set us apart was concealed at all times under uniforms, yet some key traits could not be hidden.

My nails were hooked and required daily tending to remain at a length that made holding a stylus possible. Extremely sharp talons were a common trait amongst the females in the dorms. We were not taught human anatomy, so I had no basis of comparison, but I did know they had only one heart. We had two.

Our respiratory systems were more advanced than a humans, to facilitate breathing the planet's toxic fog with no issue. Hybrids possessed a vorec internal organ tucked near our lungs. Its purpose? To pulse out a drum-like rhythm when we grew especially aggressive.

For the vorec, that thumping sound alerted whoever was on guard that an enraged beast was preparing an imminent attack. In the hybrid population, to be able to create that deep booming drum came with age. I had only accidentally let out a series of threatening thumps and hisses when engaged in rigorous hand-to-hand combat training or in battle defending the humans from wildlife that strayed too close to civilization.

It was considered the apex of threatening, and absolutely unallowed in the academy, the aforementioned circumstances aside.

Most remarkably, hybrids lived significantly longer than unmodified humans. Physical aging ceased upon maturity. Some of the earliest hybrids still lived hundreds of years after their birth.

Only ten steps remained between myself and his desk. Five breaths more and I would come to attention.

One lifetime of freedom was so close I could taste it.

All would be fine, and I would no longer be under General Cyderial’s thumb. He would sit there, call me unremarkable, pass me, ordain my new position as surveyor, order me away, and I would sleep the sleep of the soon-to-be free.

Except, once I stood before his desk, the man began to stand from his chair.

My alarm at his unexpected movement was quickly concealed. Yet I could not fail to notice the looming largeness of him, an internal warning telling me it would be wise to take a step back.

Yet, I remained at attention, determined not to ruin my chance.

Uniform immaculate. Brass buttons perfect. Not a wrinkle or a stain upon the cloth of his station.

And I’d made a grave mistake. Broke my one precious rule of survival in this hell.

I’d stupidly met his unblinking stare.

In the Omegaverse, characters fall into one of three unique dynamics—Alpha, Beta, or Omega (A/B/O)—which shape their physiology, mating instincts, and even their personality traits. In Addison Cain’s version of Omegaverse:

• Alphas are dominant and instinct-driven, often larger in stature and naturally assertive, sometimes to the point of aggression. Their unique traits include:
  • A mating growl that compels their Omega partner to produce slick, a natural lubricant that prepares Omega’s for penetration. The scent of slick is like ambrosia to an Alpha.
  • A deep, comforting purr that forces Omegas to calm when agitated.
  • The ability to form a lifelong pair-bond with an unmated Omega—with or without explicit consent.
  • Upon reaching the point of ejaculation, Alpha’s males form a knot at the base of their member—a primal, animalistic act—locking their partner to them with the express purpose of sealing semen inside to increase odds of fertilization and/or compliance. This knot forces their partner to climax and assures they cannot escape.
• Betas are typical humans, free from the overwhelming instincts that define Alphas and Omegas.
• Omegas are Alpha’s counterparts—rare, deeply emotional, and due to their biology, irresistibly alluring to mates. When aroused, females produce copious slick to ease the entry of a large Alpha organ. Omegas enter heat cycles (estrous) every few months, and have an insatiable need to mate until it is over. This makes them vulnerable to those seeking to take advantage. Due to unfair social hierarchy, Omegas have little choice in their life partners, as the strongest Alpha claims what they want. Once pair-bonded, they are tied to their Alpha for life.
• Pair-bonded Alphas and Omegas cannot be separated for long periods of time without serious mental and physical decline. Omegas become physically addicted to their Alphas, and will desire them regardless of their willingness to be claimed.

These are not exhaustive rules for Omegaverse as a whole. Each author lends their own unique perspective and world-building to the genre.

Omegaverse is rooted in the concept of instincts and dominance, but it remains grounded in a world where the characters' humanity is key. Characters in Omegaverse do not shift form. In fiction, shifters occupy their own niche genre and often exclude A/B/O dynamics (knots, slick, etc) altogether. Omegaverse is to shifters what vampires are to zombies—they share similar traits but are not the same.

Whether you're new to Omegaverse or a longtime fan, Addison Cain’s take on the genre is as addictive as it is emotionally charged. Prepare for gripping narratives, unforgettable characters, and a dark romance unlike any you’ve experienced before!

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