16. MAX
Chapter sixteen
MAX
T he car quickly fills with the sweet scent of maple syrup and cinnamon. Usually I don’t go for the sweet ones, preferring the spicier bites of chili and red wine.
But fuck me, this Omega is like a drug.
She sits between us, scowling but her perfume spreads out, seeping into all the empty spaces of the car. Arousal, tinged with a hint of fear.
It’s like a drug.
I’ve fucked Omegas. Before I joined Pack Murphy, I got my fix volunteering with the Heat Center. I know the sweet pleasures of an Omega in heat, of the way an Omega can take a knot and surround you in her wet heat–something my old fashioned packmates refused. Their loss, honestly.
But Katie?
Godsdamn.
She’s the opposite of all the polished and coiffed Conservatory Omegas I’ve met at parties and fundraisers. And she’s not like the surprise ‘feral’ Omegas that used to come to my matches. Omegas rejected by packs, or too hungry to wait for the matching service.
No, she’s not some untouchable jewel, or worn leather.
She’s fucking perfect.
And she’s mine . A blood-matched mate.
The bloodwork is a formality. It’s the fancy way of proving to all the other packs who might want her that she belongs with us.
But even if we didn’t have it, I would know. Her scent is intoxicating, and I have to adjust my trousers around the boner that stubbornly refuses to relax.
Not that I want it to. I mean, she’s our Omega. I want her to know she makes me hard. I want her to know she’s already driving me wild. I want her to know without a doubt that I want her.
“There are only three Alphas in Pack Murphy?”
She raises her chin, refusing to be cowed before us.
That’s right, Tough Girl. You know how I’m going to like it. I lick my lips, trying to wrangle my thoughts back into coherence. Talk first, fuck later.
Sweet Mother of Wolves, I’m like a newly presented Alpha again.
“Correct. Callum and I formed the pack ten years ago. Max joined us about four years later.”
“Is three a large Pack?” She levels me with an unwavering gaze. My mouth is dry and I can’t seem to make words.
“No, it’s actually pretty small,” Loren says easily. I’m grateful that he’s carrying the conversation for me since my brain can only think about how good it would be to bend Katie over his lap and eat her out clit to ass. Fuck, I bet her cunt tastes better than she smells.
I swallow. I need to say something to her.
“Most packs have four or five Alphas. Some of the Old Family Packs can have more than ten.”
Her face pales. “Ten men for just one woman?”
I bark a laugh at her expression. “We take turns,” I tease. She reddens and looks away. Our girl isn’t used to packs and bonded sex. I want to tease her some more, to make her laugh, but I’m not sure if she’d like that. I want her smiling, not embarrassed.
Loren scowls at me over her head.
“In those larger packs it’s not unusual for Alphas to bond with Betas too–they are more like large extended families, not intimate Packs.”
He shoots me a don’t fuck this up look.
Right, play it cool. She’s not used to packs.
Which is weird to think about since pack life is central to everything in our society. Even the Betas who move to one of the Beta-dominant territories still live in pack-like family groups. They can’t bond, but they have marriages. Most have several Beta-pairs and triads all living together, raising children and running households. I can’t imagine how hard that would be on just two people.
“Many of those larger packs have political pairings – not always for the true bond,” I say.
That seems safe enough.
“So blood work isn’t an absolute guarantee of a match?” She raises her eyebrows. Loren shakes his head.
She is fucking sharp as a knife blade.
Gods, I love her already.
“Most people are never lucky enough to find a blood match,” I say. “Most of us settle for second best – a scent match and general attraction. We bond to create the emotional link between us. Then we work hard and do our best.” I shrug, trying to relax the growing tension between us. Something bitter laces the air. Like resentment. She really has no idea how rare blood matches are. How special this is. How special she is.
The driver honks and a motorcycle revs its engine. Two more flank us, and my guts tighten.
“Know them?” Loren asks.
Katie’s eyes flit between the two windows, her spicy sweet scent taking a on a burned quality.
“No, I don’t know those bikes.” They each have leopard spots painted across their chrome– an odd choice.
One of the motorcycles revs again, and my Alpha instincts peak.
I grab Katie, pressing her into my arms. “Hold on to me,” I growl and the car swerves to the right. Our bodies crash together as I brace Katie in my arms, pressing her against my chest.
“What was that?” I bark. I smooth Katie’s hair, feeling the slight tremble in her body. She is practically on my lap and my base hind brain is reminding me of my hard on, and how good it is to fuck an Omega.
I need to chill out. Right now is about getting our Omega home, safely.
Loren has leaned almost into a crouch and is looking out the window.
“One of the riders got close, didn’t even try to move out of the way.” He slides out his phone and I know he’s already texting Callum.
“Why?” Katie asks, her voice surprisingly calm. She pushes herself back to the middle of the seat, and the loss of her weight and heat is palpable, like a wound. “Are you so important that they want to off you?”
She says it lightly, but Loren’s gaze meets mine over her head again. She doesn't know us, doesn’t know Loren’s past.
“Unlikely,” he says, but the driver speeds up. There’s more honking.
“Cal says they’ve been tracking movement. New Motorcycle gangs have come into Halvassa since… the rumors began.”
Shit .
Five new Omegas. For packs that have waited years for their own Omega, five new ones would be a prize indeed.
“Do they know she's with us?”
Before Loren can answer, something slams into the car, and we skid across the highway. I wrap my arms around Katie’s middle, catching her whimper.
“I’ve got you Omega,” I whisper, as the car careens across traffic.