Chapter 8 #2
The Wolf Isle Mall gleams with luxury, all marble floors and gold accents lining the store walls.
Anya walks between Lorenzo and me, her eyes wide as she takes in the high-end boutiques and exclusive shops. Her small hand occasionally brushes against mine as we walk, sending little jolts of electricity up my arm each time.
She’s still wearing that red sundress that makes my mouth water, though now she’s added a pair of strappy white sandals we bought her in the first store we visited.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s captivating in the way she moves, the subtle sway of her hips, the delicate curve of her neck when she turns to look at something that catches her eye.
We pass a jewelry store, and she suddenly stops, her attention caught by something in the display. I follow her gaze and see a diamond necklace resting on black velvet in a cascade of brilliant stones that catch the light perfectly.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, leaning closer to the glass.
I study the way her eyes widen with wonder, the slight parting of her lips. She stares for a moment longer, then straightens and begins to walk away.
“Wait,” I say, catching her wrist gently. “You like it?”
She looks back at the necklace, then at me. “Of course. It’s stunning. But we should keep going. I’ve already let you guys spend way too much on me today.”
Without hesitation, I turn and walk into the store. Behind me, I hear Anya’s surprised gasp, then her hurried footsteps as she follows.
“Alaric, no!” she hisses, catching up to me as I approach the sales counter. “You don’t need to buy that!”
I ignore her protests, addressing the cashier behind the counter. “I’d like to purchase the diamond necklace in the window display, please.”
The saleswoman’s eyes light up with recognition. “Of course, Mr. Blackwood. Right away.”
Anya tugs at my sleeve, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “Are you insane? That has to cost a fortune!”
I look down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and wide, anxious eyes. “Do you want it or not?”
“That’s not the point! I just met you yesterday, and you’re buying me diamonds?”
“Yes,” I say simply.
The saleswoman returns with the necklace on a display cushion, placing it before us. Up close, it’s even more impressive. It’s a waterfall of perfectly matched white diamonds set in platinum, each stone catching the light with fierce brilliance. The matching earrings look just as stunning.
Anya stares at it, then at me.
“I don’t need this,” she says, but the longing in her eyes betrays her.
“I never said you needed it,” I reply, pulling out my black card and handing it to the saleswoman. “I asked if you wanted it.”
As the saleswoman processes my payment, I catch Lorenzo’s amused smile from where he leans against a display case. He gives me a subtle nod of approval. We both know what we’re doing. We’re a pack showing her that with us, she’ll never want for anything again.
That she will always be provided for.
And I will always spoil my omega.
“We’d like to have this delivered to the house,” I tell the saleswoman, who nods with the practiced efficiency of someone used to wealthy clients.
“Very good, Mr. Blackwood. Is there anything else I can assist you with today?”
I glance at Anya, who’s still staring at the necklace with a mix of awe and guilt. “Not at the moment, thank you.”
As we leave the store, Anya remains uncharacteristically silent. I place a hand at the small of her back, guiding her gently.
“You’re upset,” I observe.
She shakes her head. “Not upset. Just... overwhelmed. You’ve bought me so much stuff for me today. Clothes, shoes, makeup, perfume, and now this? I don’t understand why.”
“Because you’re our omega,” I say simply. “And nothing is too good for you.”
The rest of the day, we move from boutique to boutique, watching her try on designer clothes and select the ones she likes.
Her initial protests gradually faded as the day wore on, replaced by cautious enjoyment.
The sheer joy on her face when she found something she loved was worth every penny spent.
“You’re starting to relax,” Lorenzo notes as we walk toward the food court. “This morning, you looked ready to bolt every time we suggested buying you something.”
Anya laughs softly, the sound making my cock stir in my pants. “I’m still not used to it. Where I come from, you don’t just... buy people diamond necklaces on a whim.”
“Get used to it,” I tell her, unable to resist brushing a strand of hair from her face. “This is just the beginning.”
Later, seated in one of the resort’s finest restaurants, I watch Anya savor a bite of truffle pasta, her eyes closing in pleasure. The candlelight casts a golden glow on her skin, making her look ethereal like an angel.
“This is incredible,” she says, opening her eyes and smiling at us both. “I’ve never had food like this before.”
“You like it?” Lorenzo asks, pleased.
“I love it.” She sets down her fork, her expression growing serious. “I want you both to know how much I appreciate everything today. I’ve never felt so cared for in my entire life.”
Her words create a warm pressure in my chest. It makes me want to do even more for her.
“Eat,” I encourage, pushing her plate closer. “You need your strength.”
She obeys, taking another bite, and I imagine her obeying me in other ways—spread naked on my bed, her thighs open and welcoming as I taste her, tease her, make her beg. My cock hardens at the thought, and I shift in my seat to ease the pressure.
“Would you like a massage later?” I ask casually, watching her reaction.
She pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth, her pupils dilating slightly. “A massage?”
“Yes. We have a spa at the mansion. I’m quite skilled at working out tension.”
A blush spreads across her cheeks, but she nods. “Yes, that sounds nice.”
The thought of my hands on her bare skin, working the tension from her muscles, perhaps letting my fingers stray to more intimate areas, is almost too much to contemplate without cumming in public.
I take a long sip of wine to distract myself.
“Excuse me,” Anya says, pushing back her chair. “I need to use the restroom.”
As she walks away, her red dress swaying enticingly, I can’t help but follow her with my eyes until she disappears around a corner.
“She seems happier,” Lorenzo observes, topping off his wine glass. “More at ease with us.”
“She’s starting to trust us,” I agree. “We need to take it slower with her than the others might prefer. She was raised by humans. She learned courtship and their ways from them. We need to respect that.”
“You’re getting soft,” Lorenzo teases. “Next thing you know, you’ll be writing her love songs.”
“Fuck off,” I say, just as my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
Ryker
How’s your day with our omega? Showing her a good time?
I type back quickly:
Yes. At dinner now. She’s gone to the bathroom.
Three dots appear immediately, then:
She shouldn’t be alone. Ever.
“Ryker is freaking out because Anya is using the bathroom alone,” I tell Lorenzo. “What am I supposed to do? Stand there while the poor girl pees?”
Lorenzo laughs, swirling his wine. “He’s just being overprotective. You know how he gets.”
“He needs to fucking relax. I don’t see anything happening in this restaurant.”
But as the minutes tick by, I find myself glancing repeatedly at the hallway where she disappeared. It’s been longer than it should be.
Five minutes. Seven. Ten.
A knot of unease forms in my stomach. No omega is safe alone, not even here.
“It’s been too long,” I say abruptly, standing. Lorenzo’s expression shifts from relaxed to alert in an instant.
I stride toward the restrooms, my heart rate increasing with each step. Outside the women’s bathroom, I pause.
“Anya?” I call, knocking lightly. No response.
“Anya!” shouts Lorenzo.
I push the door open, ignoring the startled gasp of a woman fixing her makeup at the sink. “Anya? Are you in here?”
The woman at the sink gives me a dirty look, but I ignore her, checking each stall with growing alarm. Empty. All of them empty.
I step back into the hallway, drawing deep breaths through my nose, trying to catch her scent. There’s a faint trace, but it’s overwhelmed by food smells from the restaurant.
“She’s not in there,” Lorenzo says. “And I can’t even smell her scent here.”
“Fuck,” I snarl, already pulling out my phone to call Ryker. “She’s gone.”