The Darkness Within: (Omegaverse) (The Sins of Darkness Duet Book 1), page 1
The Darkness Within
THE SIN’S OF DARKNESS DUET
BOOK ONE
A.J. MORAN
Copyright © 2023 by A.J. Moran
All rights reserved.
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.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Note to Readers
1. Audrey
2. Audrey
3. Audrey
4. Felix
5. Audrey
6. Saint
7. Austin
8. Audrey
9. Audrey
10. Austin
11. Audrey
12. Felix
13. Audrey
14. Austin
15. Dean
16. Audrey
17. Audrey
18. Felix
19. Audrey
20. Austin
21. Audrey
22. Felix
23. Audrey
24. Dean
25. Audrey
26. Audrey
27. Austin
28. Saint
29. Audrey
30. Audrey
31. Saint
32. Audrey
33. Felix
34. Audrey
35. Austin
36. Audrey
37. Saint
38. Audrey
39. Austin
40. Audrey
41. Felix
42. Audrey
43. Saint
44. Audrey
45. Austin
46. Audrey
47. Audrey
48. Audrey
49. Austin
50. Felix
51. Audrey
52. Austin
53. Audrey
54. Saint
55. Felix
56. Audrey
57. Saint
58. Audrey
59. Austin
60. Audrey
61. Audrey
Epilogue
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Also by A.J. Moran
Note to Readers
The Darkness Within is an Omegaverse reverse harem romance the first in a duet, but the story is a standalone. Each book will have their own Happily ever after, and can be read alone. Recommended for readers 18+ for adult content and language.
This is a Contemporary Omegaverse has non-shifting alphas, betas, omegas, and sigmas. Alphas have knots and ruts, omegas go through heats, but do not shift into any kind of animal.
This story includes a relationship that could be Dom/sub but is not meant to be a guide for that lifestyle and is missing a lot of key aspects. It also includes borderline non-con, dub-con, very dark elements (ie on page: torture, blackmail, crime, un-living of people, attempt of sexual abuse by non harem member). If any of this is not your thing, put the book down. Metal health matters.
It also contains the following tropes: Daddy kink, Billionaire romance, ex-mafia romance, heats, mpeg mentions, trauma healing, a/b/o/s, and physical relationships between the men.
CHAPTER 1
Audrey
A horde of people rushes in every direction along the busy city street. The smell of decay and trash is strong this morning as I dip between bodies on their way to high-rise jobs. I swerve and steal, all in one fluid, practiced motion. They won't know what happened until they go to pay for their fancy coffee, check the time, or try to show off the new piece of jewelry their sugar daddy gave them to their so-called friends. By then, I will be long gone.
Twirling around an unsuspecting beta, I lift their wallet from their back pocket as they brush past. With a practiced snap of my wrist, I flip through the contents, tugging out the wad of cash and tossing the rest in the nearest trash can. I am in this to get some money, not get caught with some guy's credit cards or identification.
Dodging shuffling feet, I come to a halt with the rest of the crowd at a crosswalk. An alpha shoves past me, stopping right in front of me and flashing his expensive watch. Next mark found.
Perfect.
As the crowd starts to surge forward in a hurry to start their day and ignoring the do not walk sign, I lean forward, deftly unclipping the gold watch off of his wrist. His revolting and cloying scent of cigar smoke and burnt rubber almost makes me gag as I breathe in; it's somehow worse than the smell of the city. As he steps into the street, none the wiser that I have his expensive ass watch slipped into my pocket, I drop back, not following the crowd.
I pivot on my heel with the newly acquired Rolex safely in my pocket, putting as much space between myself and him in case he gets the urge to check the time again. Ducking my head, I pull up my hood and focus on my feet, traveling with the many passer-bys as they scurry to start their days.
It's a good morning, the Rolex alone will keep my brother, Sin, and me fed for months, and probably pay for a roof over our heads, too. No more squatting. No more sharing my nest with the local rodents. And definitely no more going to bed hungry.
Despite the pests, my nest is calling my name now that my hard work is done. I just want to relax and enjoy my favorite comfort show on my phone. I can afford the data cost with my haul today. Heck, maybe I can even afford a small TV for our new place. I'm riding high, and I'll reward myself with my guilty pleasure.
Omega in Paradise.
Do I want to find an Alpha or a Pack? Absolutely fucking not. But the fairytale that plays out in the reality show is so entertaining, as weak-minded omegas fall at the feet of rich alphas, calling it love.
Please. No such thing.
Twenty lucky Omegas—heavy eye roll—are whisked away to a private island along with a pack searching for their alpha, who also is so rich they probably have five private islands and no real need for an omega besides breeding. I shudder at the thought. Poor suckers go for love and probably become a broodmare for the alphas once the cameras stop.
Still, it is irresistible watching it on my screen, playing out like some romantic fantasy. But I know the cold hard truth of what alphas are like, even the ones that are supposed to protect you. And I had come out of the abuse better than my twin, Sinclair. He faced the darkness head-on and has his own cross to bear now because of it.
A hard left on East 42nd takes me away from Rockefeller Center and toward Grand Central Station. Hopping on the Harlem line, I tuck myself into a seat out of the way of the few tired-looking people. Only a handful of people are heading back at this time.
Quickly moving through the almost empty streets, I duck into the shadowed alley, stepping over what looks and smells like vomit on my way. Gross. Then, I squeeze between the old, crooked wooden slat and through the broken door.
Sin lounges on the old worn couch we found left behind by the last inhabitants. His gaze slides lazily to me through a swirling cloud of smoke. He takes another hit of his joint, inhaling sharply as he watches me. With his other hand, he dances a dagger over his knuckles, his pierced eyebrow lifting in question.
“You’re back early,” he comments, his tone relaxed.
With a smirk, I pull out the Rolex, watching as his eyes go comically wide, and he sputters the puff of smoke out as he leans forward.
Coughing, he covers his mouth as he eyes the watch. “What suit did you snag that off of?”
“Some high rise. He probably has ten more in a vault somewhere. He won’t miss this.” I shrug and drop next to him.
My finger ghosts over the initials, A.Z., carved on the back of it. Hmm. So maybe he’d miss it.
Who cares?
A spring digs into my thigh, and I shift off the errant coil that is insistent on attempting to pierce my skin. Not that the lumpy cushion beneath my ass is much better. A musty scent fills the air, clinging to the worn fabric of the couch. I wrinkle my nose in mild disgust, but it's a minor discomfort compared to the other challenges we've faced.
“It’s probably worth enough to get us into our own place.” I shift again. “And buy a new couch.”
"What's wrong with this one, Aud?" he murmurs, his bloodshot eyes barely open. Clearly high as a kite, but who am I to judge? We've both endured the cruelty of our abusers and if this is his way of coping, I'll love him regardless.
"Uh, for one, it smells like the city—piss, vomit, and trash." I grimace, holding my breath at the offensive stench. I scan the filthy floor and walls of the abandoned building we've been using as a hideout. Even the gangs have more decent places to lie low.
"It's not that bad." He sniffs, taking another drag on his joint. He extends it toward me, but I shake my head, declining the offer. He puffs out a cloud of smoke after holding it in for a minute. His fingers absently run along the only comfort he allows himself, an old robe, a clear sign he is uncomfortable at the idea of change.
A rustling sound emanates from a nearby bag of chips, immediately capturing our attention and further solidifying my argument. A sense of anticipation fills the air as a large black rat, its eyes gleaming red, emerges from within the empty bag. Squeaking in protest, it hurriedly scurries across the grimy floor, disappearing into a giant hole in the wall as if our mere presence has greatly offended its delicate sensibilities.
“If you don’t mi nd sharing with the rodents, some as big as a dog.” I shiver, wrapping my arms around my middle. “We can at least have a place that is safer than this for us.”
As he simply shrugs, I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me, and I can't help but release a sigh of frustration. Pushing myself up from the floor, I realize we still have a precious hour before the pawn shops open their doors, and if we truly desire a substantial payout, we'll have to seek a more upscale establishment.
Determined, I make my way to my space, purposefully fluffing the pillow I had treated myself to, indulging in its softness. I meticulously rearrange the blankets, ensuring their comforting embrace surrounds me. Finally, I settle down on the worn-out mattress nestled in the corner, finding solace in its well-worn charm. It's here, within the confines of this humble corner, that I immerse myself in the captivating allure of my guilty pleasure.
I walk out of the jewelry shop with an extra spring in my step. Bianca didn't even hesitate when she handed me nine thousand for the Rolex, and I'm certain I could have squeezed a couple thousand more out of her if I had pushed harder. But what she gave me is enough to cover at least two months of rent on the Lower East Side, a safer option compared to an abandoned warehouse. Thankfully, we face little trouble from people in Harlem; most of them keep to themselves, although, occasional fights break out. It's nothing Sin and I haven't witnessed before.
Perhaps we could even catch a glimpse of the East River from our new place. The sight of water has always had a soothing effect on me, bringing a sense of calm and grounding. The thought of leaving behind the slums, even if it meant moving just a few miles south, fills me with a newfound lightness. Plus, it's still a quick journey to Midtown and the Theater District, both of which offer great opportunities to earn some extra cash. As long as I continue finding unsuspecting suits or tourists, we should be able to sustain our new place.
The city has thousands, if not millions, of each.
My familiarity with the streets guides me along Central Park, retracing my steps toward the hideout where Sin is still fast asleep. I can't wait to share the news with him. I'm certain he'll find the idea of having bolt locks on our door appealing. After all, he always keeps a weapon nearby, ready to defend our abandoned sanctuary against any unwelcome intruders.
I know I would cherish a secure closet to retreat into during my heats. The effectiveness of my cheap suppressants has been inconsistent lately, leaving me uncertain when a breakthrough heat may strike. It's been nearly three months since my last one, so I'm certain another is looming on the horizon.
In my mind's preoccupation, I failed to register the presence of the group loitering near the alley, the route I typically use to return to the warehouse, until I was nearly upon them. But it wasn't a gang as I had assumed; instead, it was a cluster of suits. What the hell was affluent alphas doing in the streets of Harlem? Swiftly, I slipped into the sheltered entrance of a boarded-up shop, cautiously peeking around the corner to observe them.
The alpha in command sports cufflinks that hold a value substantial enough to cover rent in the Lower East Side for a year, if not more. His silver watch glimmers, drawing attention as he points toward the abandoned building we have been occupying. With his golden blond hair capturing the midday sunlight and accentuating his tan complexion, his visage exudes an air of expensive refinement. He meticulously maintains every aspect of his appearance, from his clean-shaven face to the pair of eyeglasses resembling fucking Bentleys that are worth more than the combined worth of his cufflinks. The exorbitant price tag on those glasses exceeds the cost of most homes, nearing half a million dollars.
Damn. He isn't just any suit; he is filthy rich, too.
His features resemble those of a model rather than a corporate executive. Chiseled angles and broad shoulders that could easily grace a billboard. If his neck is any sign, his abs must be equally well-defined. I can't help but focus on his fucking neck, feeling an intense urge to nuzzle into him, even from this distance. He has a way of setting my pulse racing and my breath quickening, despite not being close enough to catch his scent.
His head swivels in my direction, and it feels like his gaze is caressing my skin, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. My legs tremble, and I hastily retreat into the safety of my hiding spot, blending into the shadows of the doorway. My hands turn clammy, and the ringing in my ears drowns out any other sound. I take slow, deliberate breaths, struggling to regain control over my omega senses that are urging me to surrender myself to this stranger on a silver platter. The very thought sends a chilling jolt through my veins. I would never allow an alpha to take control over me.
Drawing in a deep breath, I hold it, inching my head forward to peek around the corner. I observe as the men climb into their luxurious cars and the doors are slammed shut. A sigh of relief escapes me as, one by one, the vehicles pull away from the street.
I'm not sure of their purpose for being here, but it adds to my determination to secure a safe apartment. If they return, if he returns—I have to be gone.
CHAPTER 2
Audrey
"Sin," I hiss, nudging him once more with the tip of my shoe. "Wake up. We need to leave."
He mumbles something and covers his face with his arm, still refusing to open his eyes. A gentle snore escapes his lips, and I let out a sigh. I miss the old version of my brother, the one before everything changed and depression took over. I blink away the sadness and give him a harder kick. He grunts, sitting up and reaching for the gun that had been resting on the cushion beside him, now securely held in my grasp.
“I said get up. We need to leave.”
“Where are we going?” he asks as he scrubs his hand over his face.
“The Lower East Side, grab your shit,” I say. Pulling the bag containing my pillow, blanket, and a few changes of clothes securely onto my shoulder, I turn my gaze back to the broken door. “There were suits sniffing around. I bet they are going to be in here with construction any day now. We need to be gone.”
“You pawned it?”
“Yeah, it was a good haul. Even if we don’t find a place today, we can get a room somewhere for a few nights.”
He rises from his seat and stretches, my gaze instinctively drawn to the deep scar that runs across his abdomen, a constant reminder of his infertility, ensuring an alpha will never claim him. At times, I wish it had been me instead. But then I realize that if our roles were reversed, I might also be as damaged as he is. It's as if drugs and pain are the only things that can truly reach him now. That fateful night rewired him completely, erasing any semblance of choice from his life.
He retrieves his gun from my grasp and tucks it discreetly into the waistband at the small of his back, hidden beneath his shirt. Grabbing his already packed bag, he nods toward the exit, silently signaling our departure.
“Lead the way, sis,” he says, and we head back out into the sunlight.
The subway car is crammed with people as we wedge our way inside. It feels as if the ride takes forever, and I only take small inhales of breath of the dank air. The mingling scents of omegas and alphas create an overpowering odor, making me grateful when the doors finally open, allowing me to stumble out onto the platform.
