Chapter 4 #2
“Wolf, as in werewolf,” Marcus continues, leaning forward with those intense dark eyes fixed on me. “Your mother must have been one. You smell like…”
“Marcus, shut the fuck up,” Alaric cuts in sharply, slamming his palm on the table. “Let Ryker explain it to her. You’re making it worse.”
I turn to Ryker, desperate for him to laugh, to tell me this is all some sick joke or hazing ritual for new employees. But his expression is deadly serious, his dark eyes watching me carefully as if gauging how much I can handle.
“There’s no such thing as wolves... werewolves... whatever you’re talking about,” I say slowly. “That’s fairy tales. Horror movies. Not real life.”
“It’s real,” Ryker says softly. “And it’s true. We are wolves too— alphas, the most powerful kind. And you, Anya, are an omega.”
“That’s impossible,” I whisper, but even as I say it, something deep inside me stirs in recognition again. Something primal and hidden that I’ve never acknowledged.
“You are an omega,” Ryker continues softly. “One meant to be with us, to bear our pups.”
My jaw drops open at the casual way he says it. Am I apparently some sort of... breeding vessel?
“Pups?” I sputter. “As in... babies?”
I have no words. Heat floods my face as I realize what he’s suggesting. These men…these supposed werewolves, see me as what? Some kind of communal baby-maker? The idea is so outrageous to me that I want to laugh.
“It’s perfectly normal for you to feel overwhelmed,” Ryker says, as if he can read my thoughts. “Your human upbringing has hidden your true nature from you. But your body knows what you are, even if your mind doesn’t accept it yet.”
His hand moves under the table, finding my thigh. One finger traces a lazy line from my knee upward, just a whisper of contact through the fabric of my uniform. The effect is immediate and shocking. My pussy throbs in response, a rush of wetness soaking my underwear so suddenly it makes me gasp.
“What are you doing to me?” I whisper, unable to move away from his touch despite knowing I should.
“Nothing you don’t want,” he murmurs, his finger continuing its torturous path up my thigh. “Tell me, Anya. Can you feel your body responding to me?”
I swallow hard, unable to lie when my pussy is clenching violently and getting wetter by the second.
“Yes,” I admit, my voice barely audible.
“That’s your omega nature recognizing an alpha,” he explains, his finger now tracing small circles dangerously close to the junction of my thighs. “Your body is designed to want us, to need us. Your body and your instincts know the truth.”
The other men watch this exchange with rapt attention. I can see their nostrils flaring, as if they can smell my arousal. This only sends another pulse of heat between my legs.
“I don’t know…”
“You’ve probably never felt this way before, have you?” Ryker asks, his voice low and intimate despite our audience. “This immediate, overwhelming attraction? This need?”
“No, never,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Never felt my body betray me so completely, responding to a simple touch as if it’s been waiting my entire life for just this moment.
“That’s because you’ve never been around alphas before,” he continues. “Human men can’t trigger your omega responses. Only we can.”
My breathing has become shallow, my nipples hard points pressing against my uniform. I’m mortified by my body’s reaction, yet I can’t deny what I’m feeling. Every instinct in my body screams for me to climb into Ryker’s lap, unzip his pants, and slowly sink onto his waiting erection.
“None of this makes sense,” I whisper. “It’s not true.”
“Do you want me to continue?” Ryker asks, his finger pausing its movement on my thigh. “Just say the word, and I’ll show you exactly what your body is craving.”
I bite my lip hard, trying to focus through the haze of arousal. My rational mind is at war with whatever primal part of me is responding to him. This is insane. I met this man today. These men are claiming to be werewolves.
“No…I can’t.”
Ryker’s finger leaves my thigh, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The relief is immediate, but mixed with a profound sense of loss that makes no sense. My body actually aches for his touch to return.
The spell breaks, and I suddenly stand, pushing my chair back. “This is... this is crazy. I need to leave.”
I turn toward the door, but all five men rise simultaneously from their seats. My stomach flips with worry as I realize they’re positioned between me and every possible exit.
“Anya,” Ryker says, his voice soft but commanding. “Running away won’t change what you are. What we are.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to be?” I squeak. “Your brood mare? Your baby factory?”
“Our omega,” Alaric says simply. “Our mate.”
“We need pups,” Ryker adds, stepping toward me slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. “And you look like the perfect mate. Strong, beautiful, fertile.”
The way he assesses me makes my skin burn—like I’m livestock being evaluated for breeding. And yet, beneath my indignation, there’s a part of me that preens under his approval, that wants to prove just how fertile I could be if given the chance.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I’m a person,” I say, backing away until I bump into the wall behind me. “Not some... some baby-making machine. I’m not a whore to be passed around between a pack of men who think they’re wolves.”
“We don’t think we are wolves,” Marcus growls from across the room. “We are wolves.”
“Prove it,” I challenge, the words escaping before I can think better of them.
The men exchange glances, some kind of silent communication passing between them. Finally, Ryker turns back to me, his expression solemn.
“You’re not ready for that yet,” he says. “The shift would terrify you in your current state of mind.”
“Convenient,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, I’m just supposed to take your word for it? That you’re all werewolves and I’m some rare omega that’s meant to... what? Be your collective girlfriend? Bear your children? All because you say so?”
“Your body already knows the truth,” Lorenzo points out. “I can smell how wet you got from just Ryker’s touch. Imagine what would happen if we all touched you.”
My face burns with humiliation. The fact that they can smell my arousal makes me want to curl up and die. Worse, the image his words conjure, of all of them touching me at once, sends another treacherous pulse of heat between my legs.
“This is insane,” I whisper, more to myself than to them. “I must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or having some kind of mental breakdown.”
“Will you be our omega and bear our pups?”