Chapter 6 Rut
Rut
Kol
My whole life I’ve been hungry. I look at every new situation with one goal—make it bigger and better. Everything can be improved, you just have to locate the assets and build on them. It’s how I ended up in the Soto Pack.
I saw Oscar Soto and knew he would do so much good in the world. I wanted to be with a man like that.
And Locke is the funniest man I know. Not on purpose. He’s just a mess and I enjoy it. I’ve been able to focus on him enough to get him his own real estate license just like me and make a lot of connections. Not a lot of money. That’s my job.
Locke keeps saying he wants to be a “house alpha” (a term he’s made up), and I will rue the day if that ever happens.
We arrive back at our Cash City rental exhausted and frustrated. Locke is his usual mess, but this time for good reason, and Oscar is quieter than normal.
Not me. I’m fucking keyed up.
A scent match.
I wonder if she’s mine, too.
We have to get an omega, and soon, so it didn’t even cross my mind that we could have a scent match out there. I was willing to compromise on so much in order to find an omega, and now there’s a possibility I won’t have to compromise a damned thing. Scent matches are everything to an alpha.
She’ll be exactly what I need.
Or what Locke needs.
All three of us have our reasons to be this desperate, but mine is the most shameful.
I’ve gone into ruts.
It’s something feral alphas do. It’s like an omega’s heat. Where the alpha must fuck and fuck so much they pass out. And it can last a day or more. It started happening a couple of years ago, but now I’m down to falling into ruts nearly every month.
Oscar has done a lot of research, and I’m on hormones and supplements, but it doesn’t completely solve the problem. An omega would fix me. As shitty as that is to ask of someone. Her heats and my ruts would go in sync, and eventually my ruts would taper off in intensity.
But until then, I’m pretty much constantly thinking about sex. I’m almost always bricked up. And I have to yank my dick morning, noon, and night.
It makes starting my real estate business in a new city so easy.
Oscar can’t get a job either. And Locke wants to be a house alpha (again, I have to stress that this is not a real thing). So my pack is bleeding dry.
And if we court an omega, there goes the rest of our savings.
But a scent match!
My god.
Courting her would be a dream.
Fucking her would be like fucking a goddamned angel.
Locke knew moving here would be a good idea. It took convincing Oscar, through facts and data, but here we are.
Oscar is on the phone with the case worker, Angeline. It’s on speaker. We are gathered in the living room of our apartment downtown. It’s on the first floor and only has two bedrooms. Locke and I share a room. It’s a nice place, but it’s nowhere near what we are used to lately.
“Angeline, thank you for taking my call this late on a Friday night,” Oscar says, letting his panty-dropping Spanish accent fly.
“Oh, it’s no problem, Alpha Soto. How can I help?”
“We met an omega tonight at the soirée. However, we were unable to get her name. Can you be of assistance in connecting us?”
“Oh my goodness! That’s so great to hear! I love when these things work out.”
Locke is worried. I can feel it in our bond. He’s got great instincts, so I don’t question it. Something has got him feeling this way.
I get his attention and he shakes his head. He doesn’t want to tell me.
“Can you give me any details about the omega?”
“Yes, she’s tall, for an omega. She was in a violet dress. Short black hair.”
“Oh! Like shoulder length or like a pixie cut?” She asks. We turn to Locke, and he answers, “A bob.”
“Oh! I think that’s Acadia. It must be. Did she have green eyes and a silver nose ring? Also, long acrylic nails?”
Again, we defer to Locke, who shrugs his shoulders.
This new description drives me absolutely wild. The alpha in me loves it. Green eyes? Nose ring? If she has even one tattoo, I’m screwed.
And long acrylic nails. I can see them now wrapped around my cock, her pert mouth…Oscar smacks the back of my head.
I guess he could feel that.
“I believe that’s her. Can we be connected with her? We’d like to court her, formally.”
There’s a long pause.
How did Locke know? Dread floods the bond from all three of us.
“So here’s the thing, Acadia has a preference. And I’d love to circumvent that preference, but it’s a dealbreaker.”
She’s choosing her words carefully. What kind of preference? We are the most basic alpha pack there is. We’ve watered ourselves down and wiped our histories so we fit most omega’s preferences. How did this happen?
“Would it be an imposition to tell us this preference?”
“Well, it’s kind of out of the ordinary. She wants a pack that has a bonded beta. Male or female. But they need to be bonded and registered.”
I’ve never seen Oscar with his mouth hanging open in shock before, but this did it.
That…is…definitely out of the ordinary.
I mean, I’ve seen packs with bonded betas before, but to specifically ask for that is so odd. I could see an omega saying they don’t want that before I’d ever see this.
“Why?” Locke speaks for Oscar. A rare occurrence.
“You know I cannot say. But it’s a dealbreaker.
Like I said. Now, because I like you guys, I will tell you this, but it didn’t come from me.
You don’t have the ranking in our system for visibility to a lot of our omegas.
But with her preference, you’d be able to get on her list. But you would actually need to have a beta. ”
We are holding our breath.
I fucking knew it! I mouth to my pack. I knew there was some fancy ranking system putting wealthy or connected packs above ours. I knew it was all a big fucking joke! Fuck this fucking place!
Oscar puts his hand on my shoulder to calm me down.
“Ok, we are on it, Angeline, thank you for the tip. The next call you get we should meet her preferences. I expect that’s all we will need to do in order to get an interview, correct? We are highly motivated to start courting her.”
“Call me as soon as you have a bonded and registered beta, and I’ll get your file in front of her. Ok?”
We agree and end the call.
Oscar is the first to speak. “I’m going to get a drink and start researching this. I can’t…” and then he takes off to his room.
I grab Locke by the back of his collar and drag him to our room. I sit in a plush armchair and tell him to go somewhere I can’t see him.
He’s rolling his eyes at me and grumbling, but I can tell he doesn’t really mind. Our bond hides nothing.
“Ok, Locke, describe her to me again. Don’t leave anything out.” I unzip my pants and reach inside to stroke my hardening cock.
Locke grumbles and sits down on his bed. “Fuck you, Kol.”
“Was she wearing heels?”
He takes a deep breath and I can feel him getting into that headspace. “Yeah, black ones. Like all the girls her age wear. She stood still with her arms loosely crossed in front of her.”
“And how did she smell?” I get comfortable and lay my head back, closing my eyes. I pull my cock all the way out and speed up my tempo. I’m so sensitive tonight.
“Lilacs. In the summertime. Like being a field of them. It was like a gift or a magical experience. It hurt, actually, to fully take her all in. And then it was like a drug with that wave of oxytocin.”
I groan, but try to keep it quiet. I know this is weird. I know it. But do I care? Not really.
He continues to tell me about her. How forlorn she looked.
The moonlight in her hair. Her hips and waist, and her exposed back.
I then start picturing what her face might look like.
A nose ring and green eyes. In my mind, I give her tattoos.
Blue jays, roses, and skulls. Tattoos fit for an omega in the Soto pack.
We are bonafide now, but we weren’t always.
She’s going to be our queen.
And then I come, and it rips up my leg, causing my muscles to spasm. I cry out in pain and pleasure. Cum whips over my stomach and some parts of my shirt. Fuck, Oscar is going to be pissed he has to send this to the dry cleaner.
Locke kicks the back of my chair and leaves the room. Hopefully, to get a drink.