Chapter 5
Five
ANYA
Ilaugh. This has to be some kind of elaborate prank.
Bear their pups? Be their omega?
These gorgeous, wealthy men are either completely delusional or playing the cruelest joke imaginable on the poor girl they just hired to clean their toilets.
“That’s…” I gasp between fits of laughter. “That’s really funny. Werewolves. Omega. Pups. You guys had me going there for a second.”
The silence that follows my words is deafening. None of them are laughing. Not even a smile. They’re all watching me with those intense predatory eyes, waiting for my hysterics to subside. My laughter dies in my throat as the reality sinks in.
They’re completely serious.
“You can’t actually believe this,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Werewolves aren’t real.”
“We are very real,” Ryker says, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “And so is what you are.”
“So let me get this straight,” I say, my voice trembling with anger. “You lured me here with promises of a job, only to tell me I’m actually some mythical creature designed to give birth to your babies?”
Lorenzo leans forward, his dark eyes gleaming. “We didn’t know what you were when Ryker brought you here. But now that we know, everything has changed.”
“Nothing has changed,” I snap. “I came here for a job. Not to be passed around like a prostitute. I’m not your omega.”
I back further away, my eyes darting between the five men who watch me with varying expressions of confusion and disappointment, as if I’m the unreasonable one for not jumping at the chance to be their shared girlfriend.
“Where are you going?” asks Rex sharply.
“I’m leaving,” I announce, turning toward the door.
To my surprise, none of them move to stop me. Ryker raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused.
“You can try,” he says softly. His calm confidence sends a chill down my spine. Why isn’t he worried about me leaving? Why aren’t any of them trying to stop me?
I don’t wait to find out.
I turn on my heel and storm out of the dining room, half-expecting to feel a hand grab my arm at any moment. But no one follows me. The hallway stretches empty before me, and I quicken my pace, my heart hammering against my ribs.
As I move toward the front door, a strange ache blooms in my chest. It makes no sense to feel sad. I’ve known these men for hardly an hour. There’s no reason for this hollow feeling at the thought of leaving them. And yet, each step away from them feels like I’m tearing my own heart out.
This is crazy. I need to get away from them and clear my head.
I find the massive front door and push it open, stepping out into the night air.
The sky above me is a black canvas dotted with stars, with no city lights to dim their brilliance.
Under different circumstances, I might have stood there in awe, drinking in the beauty of it.
But right now, all I can think about is putting distance between myself and the mansion behind me.
I pull my phone from my pocket, fingers trembling as I try to text John. But as soon as I look at my screen, my heart sinks. No service. Not a single bar.
“Of course,” I mutter bitterly.
Panic rises in my throat, threatening to choke me. I need to find a way off this island. There must be boats, maybe even a small plane or helicopter. I set off down the winding path that leads away from the house, my eyes straining to adjust to the darkness.
The path curves around a bend, and suddenly the marina comes into view. Several sleek boats are moored to the docks, gently rocking in the calm water. I hurry toward them, hope flaring in my chest.
As I approach the docks, a figure emerges from a small guardhouse. A security guard, his uniform crisp even at this late hour, steps into my path.
“Can I help you, miss?” he asks politely, but his eyes are wary.
“I need to leave the island,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Which boat can take me to the mainland? Like right now.”
The guard looks genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, miss, but no boats leave after sunset. It’s a safety protocol. The waters around the island can be treacherous at night.”
“What about tomorrow morning, then?” I press. “First thing?”
“The first ferry departs at 8 AM,” he says. “But you’d need authorization from Mr. Blackwood to board it.”
My heart sinks. Of course, Ryker would have to approve my departure. This place is starting to feel less like a resort and more like a prison.
“What about a plane? Or a helicopter?” I ask desperately. “There must be some way off this island tonight.”
The guard shakes his head. “No night flights either, I’m afraid.”
I turn away from him, staring out at the dark water that stretches endlessly before me. The mainland is out there somewhere, invisible in the darkness. I could swim for it, but I have no idea how far it is, and the thought of entering that vast, black ocean makes me shiver.
I’m trapped. At least until morning. I need to find somewhere to hide. I need to think and plan my next move.
I move away from the marina, following a path that leads along the shoreline. Tall grass rustles on either side of me, the sound ominous in the quiet night. The moon casts enough light for me to see where I’m going, but shadows lurk everywhere, playing tricks on my eyes.
Behind me, I hear the crunch of footsteps on the path.
Someone is following me.
Fear shoots through me. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. I can feel his presence.
“Anya,” Marcus’s deep voice carries easily through the still air. “Come back.”
I suddenly break into a sprint, veering off the path and into the tall grass. I have no idea where I’m going, but instinct drives me forward, away from the monster behind me. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest.
I risk a glance over my shoulder and see his silhouette gaining on me, moving with an effortless grace that makes my clumsy flight seem pathetic in comparison. He’s going to catch me. The certainty of it floods my veins with ice.
I turn back just in time to see a rock directly in my path. My foot catches it, and suddenly the world is tilting. I fall forward with a startled cry, my hands outstretched to break my fall. My palms and knees hit the ground hard, dirt and grass pressing into my skin.
Before I can scramble to my feet, a heavy weight lands on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Marcus’s large body covers mine completely, pressing me into the earth. His breath is hot against my neck, his chest a solid wall of muscle against my back.
And between my ass cheeks, pressed tight against me, I feel his cock, hard and massive, twitching against me through my panties.
“Get off of me!” I gasp, struggling beneath him. But between my legs, I feel a rush of wetness, my pussy clenching with need.
I’ve never been turned on like this before.
It’s intense and immediate, like a switch being flipped inside me.
Marcus lowers his head, his mouth at my ear. “You’re my omega,” he whispers, his voice a rumble that vibrates through my entire body. His teeth graze my earlobe in a gentle nip. “Mine.”
I’m bewildered by the possessiveness in his tone, by how serious he sounds. As if I truly belong to him, as if it’s a fact. And what scares me most is how right it feels, how some part of me I never knew existed wants to surrender to that claim.
He shifts his weight, his knee moving between my legs, spreading them apart.
His cock presses more insistently against me now, no longer against my ass but directly against the soaked fabric covering my pussy.
The sensation of his large cock is overwhelming.
I can feel how big he is without having to look at him. The head of his cock presses more insistently against my pussy now, separated only by my soaked panties. The heat of him is searing, and I let out a helpless whimper as my hips instinctively tilt up to meet him.
He starts to rock against me, slow at first, then faster, his cock sliding along the curve of my ass, the fabric of my panties growing wetter with each thrust. I bite my lip, trying to stifle the moans that threaten to escape me.
I suddenly let out a low whine, unable to help it.
He laughs, low and satisfied.
I bite my lip hard, mortified by my own response. What is happening to me? Why am I acting like this? I’ve never been so wanton, so desperate for a man’s touch.
My dress has ridden up around my waist, fully exposing my legs to the night air and leaving only my thin cotton panties as a barrier between us. The thought should horrify me, but all I feel is a perverse thrill at being so exposed, so vulnerable beneath him.
I lie compliant underneath him, breathing hard as his large balls squish against my ass with each thrust. The rhythm is hypnotic, the friction against my sensitive pussy sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.
He’s not even inside me, but it feels so good.
His cock slaps against my ass cheeks over and over as if he’s punishing me for running away.
Yes! Punish me.
More liquid seeps from my drenched pussy, soaking through my panties.
I can smell my own arousal now, musky and sweet, mingling with the ocean scent that seems to emanate from his skin.
I close my eyes, giving in to the sensation, as he humps me without penetration.
Each thrust of Marcus’s cock against my ass sends waves of pleasure crashing through me.
My cheeks are pressed into the cool grass, my lips parted as I pant for air.
I’ve never felt anything like this before—this overwhelming, all-consuming desire that makes me forget everything except the weight of him on top of me, the hardness of him against me, the heat building between my legs.
“You like it,” Marcus says, grinding harder against me. “You were made for this.”