Chapter 8
Eight
ALARIC
As I sip my Earl Grey tea, I watch Lorenzo scribbling in his leather-bound notebook across the living room.
His lips curve into a satisfied smile as his pen glides across the page, and I can’t help but wonder what’s put him in such a good mood this morning.
The home is quiet except for the scratch of his pen and the occasional twitter of tropical birds outside the massive windows.
I stretch my legs out on the plush leather sofa, studying him over the rim of my teacup, curiosity burning inside me until I can’t hold it back any longer.
“What’s got you so fucking cheerful this morning?” I ask, setting my cup down on the glass coffee table.
Lorenzo looks up, that smile still playing on his lips. He closes his notebook with deliberate slowness to keep my anticipation up.
“I had the pleasure of tucking our new omega into bed last night,” he says, his accent thickening with satisfaction.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. First Marcus with his caveman approach, eating her out like a fucking animal in heat, and now Lorenzo? A stab of jealousy twists in my chest, hot and unexpected. I keep my face carefully neutral, but my grip tightens on the arm of the couch.
“Is that so?” I ask, my voice deceptively casual. “And what exactly does ‘tucking in’ entail in your vocabulary?”
Lorenzo leans back, stretching his arms above his head. “She was having quite the vivid dream when I checked on her. Moaning so sweetly, I had to investigate.”
My cock stirs at the mental image of Anya writhing in her sheets, flushed and needy. I cross my legs to hide my growing erection.
“And?” I prompt, trying to sound bored rather than desperate for details.
“And I simply helped her finish what her dream had started,” he says with a shrug, as if it’s nothing. “All I did was eat her out. You should have tasted her, Alaric. So fucking good. Like the best grapes you’ll ever have.”
The image of Anya’s thighs spread wide, her delicate fingers gripping Lorenzo’s dark curls as he devours her fills my dirty mind.
Her head thrown back, mouth open in silent ecstasy, those violet eyes glazed with pleasure.
I imagine the slick glistening on her pink pussy lips, Lorenzo’s eager tongue lapping it up like it’s the finest delicacy.
I swallow hard as I shift in my seat, my cock now fully hard, straining against my tailored pants. I’m about to ask for more details when the soft pad of footsteps makes me look up.
There she is.
Anya stands in the doorway, a vision in a red sundress that steals the breath from my lungs.
The fabric hugs her curves, the hem stopping just above her knees to reveal smooth, creamy thighs that I’d give anything to touch.
Her blond hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, exposing the delicate line of her neck.
White slippers adorn her small feet, making her look innocent and fuckable at the same time.
“Good morning,” Lorenzo and I say in unison, both of us straightening like schoolboys called to attention.
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she deliberately avoids looking at Lorenzo. I note this instantly. So he wasn’t lying to me.
“Good morning,” she replies, her voice soft and a little husky. She chooses the armchair across from me, perching on the edge like she might need to run at any moment.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask, unable to resist testing her reaction.
As expected, her face reddens further, the blush spreading down her neck toward her chest. My cock hardens further. She fidgets with the hem of her dress. “Yes, thank you.”
Our chef emerges from the kitchen in his crisp, pristine white uniform. “Would you like anything to eat or drink, Miss Rosewood?”
She looks relieved at the interruption. “Just an omelet is fine, and coffee, please.”
“Coming right up,” the chef says with a slight bow before retreating to the kitchen.
I study her while she’s distracted, taking in every detail. Despite her embarrassment, she seems more relaxed today and less like a frightened deer. Her scent is stronger too—that delicious grape aroma that marks her as omega.
“Do you miss your family?” I ask, genuinely curious about her and what she’s feeling.
Her reaction is immediate and visceral. Her shoulders stiffen, her jaw clenches, and something dark flashes in her eyes.
“Hell no,” she says with surprising venom.
Now I’m even more intrigued. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Why’s that?”
She hesitates, clearly debating how much to share. I wait patiently, giving her space to decide.
“I was raised by my dad, who was... emotionally absent most of the time,” she finally says, her voice measured. “And a step-mother who hated my guts.”
Something protective stirs in my chest. An omega child abandoned and raised by humans who couldn’t understand what she was or what she needed. It’s a miracle she survived at all.
“What did your step-mother do?” I ask.
Anya’s fingers twist the fabric of her dress. “She made it very clear I wasn’t welcome. She had her own kids, and they were the priority. I was just... baggage from my dad’s previous marriage.”
“Was she abusive?” I ask, my voice dropping to a growl without my permission.
“Not physically, if that’s what you’re asking,” Anya says, looking down at her hands. “But she had a way of making me feel worthless without leaving any marks.”
My anger flares hot and sudden. The thought of our omega being treated as less than the treasure she is makes my blood boil.
“And then what happened?” I demand, unable to keep the growl from my voice.
“I left home at seventeen,” she says simply. “I’ve been couch surfing ever since, jumping from one job to another. Nothing ever seems to last long.” She looks up suddenly, her violet eyes meeting mine. “Does that turn you off? Finding out I’m basically a homeless nobody?”
“Absolutely not,” I say firmly. “An omega should never be mistreated like that. Do you have any idea how rare you are? Omegas are the jewel of a pack, to be cherished and protected at all costs. And you are most certainly not a ‘nobody’.”
She blinks at me, clearly surprised by the intensity of my response. “Oh…well, thanks, I guess.”
“As our omega, you will want for nothing,” I continue, letting my conviction show in every word. “You will be treated like the queen that you are. That’s a promise.”
Her blush deepens, and she drops her gaze, clearly overwhelmed by my declaration.
“It’s true,” Lorenzo says, having abandoned his notebook to join us at the table. “You’re the most precious thing to enter our lives in decades.”
“But I don’t understand exactly what an omega is,” she says quietly. The chef returns with her omelet and coffee, setting them before her with a flourish. She thanks him and takes a sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of her cup with curious eyes.
“An omega is traditionally shared with a pack,” I explain, watching her reaction carefully. “In this case, that would be me, Rex, Lorenzo, Marcus, and Ryker.”
Her eyes widen, and she nearly chokes on her coffee.
“Shared? As in...” she trails off, her meaning clear.
“Yes,” I confirm. “Sexually, we will share you, and we will be your protectors.”
She sets her cup down with shaking hands. “How would an omega even handle having sex with five men? Wouldn’t that be... I mean, that seems impossible.”
Lorenzo laughs softly. “One day you’ll be in heat, and even five men won’t be enough for you. You’ll be horny for days, insatiable until your body gets what it needs.”
Her eyes widen further, and I can smell her scent thickening in the air. The conversation is making her horny, whether she wants to admit it or not.
I notice her thighs clenching together tightly beneath the table. Her response is making me horny as well.
“Heat?” she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s a biological cycle,” I explain, enjoying the way her breathing quickens as I speak. “Your body will prepare for breeding. The heat usually ends with an omega getting pregnant.”
She looks down, breathing hard.
I watch in fascination as her blush spreads down to her chest. The neckline of her dress reveals just enough cleavage to make my mouth water. Her breasts are heaving up and down rapidly, her nipples pointed under her dress.
My cock throbs painfully in my pants as I imagine teasing those perfect tits with my tongue, sucking her nipples until she’s begging me to fuck her. I wonder if they’re sensitive, if she’d come just from having them played with.
I consider explaining about an alpha’s knot, and how it would stretch her pussy and asshole so wide she’d scream with the pleasure of it, how it would lock us together while I pump her full of cum, ensuring my seed takes root in her womb.
But I’ll save that as a surprise for later. We need to build trust first, let her adjust to the idea of being our omega before we show her everything that entails.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently, noting how flushed she’s become. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” she says quickly. “I’m just... overwhelmed. This is all so new.”
“Of course it is,” Lorenzo soothes, reaching across the table to take her hand. “We don’t expect you to understand everything at once. Or to accept it all immediately.”
“Umm, I think I need time to process all of this,” she says slowly.
“Take all the time you need,” I say, though my wolf chafes at the delay. It wants to claim her now, mark her, breed her. But the human part of me knows better. “How about we go out on a date today and take things slow? We can go shopping.”
“Um, sure,” she says, her face pink. She picks up her fork and begins to eat her omelet, clearly using the food as an excuse to gather her thoughts.
I watch every expression that crosses her beautiful face.
I’ve waited decades to find an omega. I can wait a little longer for her to come to us willingly.
But not too much longer.