Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Are We There Yet?
Riot
The modified Jeep had seen better decades, but Lilac maintained it with the kind of obsessive care that kept vehicles running long past their expected lifespan.
The wheelchair lift mechanism in the back was a testament to her mechanical skills and her devotion to Granny Lu—reinforced steel and carefully calibrated hydraulics that could handle the rough terrain and decaying roads of the Static Zone.
What the vehicle wasn’t designed for was transporting an Omega whose scent filled every cubic inch of enclosed space with the kind of biological imperative that made Riot drool.
He’d taken his suppressants forty minutes ago, right before they’d loaded Cass into the backseat.
A double dose from the stash he’d retrieved from Ken—the good stuff, medical grade, the kind that should have knocked his system back to baseline within fifteen minutes.
They weren’t doing a goddamn thing.
This doesn’t make sense. He shifted in the passenger seat, trying to find a position that didn’t press his still-hard cock against the seam of his pants.
He’d been hard since the stairwell, and the ache had long since passed uncomfortable and settled into genuinely painful.
The suppressants always work. Even when they’re cutting it close, even when I’ve pushed past the usual timeline—they work.
But nothing about Cass’s effect on him made sense from the beginning.
Just climb in the backseat and finish what you started. Lilac can fucking deal.
“How much longer?” Cass’s voice drifted from the back, slightly strained.
“About two and a half hours,” Lilac said, navigating around a pothole that would have swallowed a smaller vehicle. “Maybe three if there is corporate transport moving through. The roads get worse once we’re deeper in the Static Zone.”
Riot didn’t turn around. If he looked at Cass right now—flushed and uncomfortable and still smelling like everything Riot wanted—he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
He was going to lose his fucking mind.
“Where are we... where exactly are we going?”
“The Prairie Null Collective,” Lilac answered. “It’s our settlement in the Static Zone.”
“What’s Null mean?”
Riot shifted to angle himself toward the backseat, keeping his eyes carefully on the headrest instead of Cass’s face. “You know how everyone’s either an Alpha, Beta, or Omega?”
“Yes?”
“Nulls are people who aren’t any of those. They don’t have a designation at all.”
Even without looking directly at him, Riot could feel Cass’s confusion radiating through the car. “That’s... that’s possible?”
“The designations aren’t natural,” Riot explained, trying to focus on the words. “They existed before, but they were rare. About seventy years ago, a virus called Syn-V-7 spread globally and activated designation expression in almost everyone.”
“But not Nulls?”
“Not Nulls,” Lilac confirmed. “They weren’t affected by the virus. They don’t produce pheromones, and they can’t detect them either.”
“But you can smell...” Cass trailed off, confused.
“I’m not a Null. I’m a glitched Alpha.” Lilac’s voice was matter-of-fact. “The same program that made Riot’s glow destroyed my ability to produce pheromones. But I can still smell them just fine. I just live with the Nulls because...” She shrugged. “They don’t care that I’m broken.”
Cass was quiet for a long moment. Riot risked a glance at his face and immediately regretted it.
Cass gripped the door handle, his face flushed, sweat beading at his temples despite the cool air from the vents.
His Elysian robes had fallen open slightly, revealing the bandages on his chest, reminding Riot that the only thing Cass was wearing were those robes because his underclothes were too ruined to put back on.
God, Riot wanted to lick him so fucking bad—
Riot wrenched his gaze forward, his whole body rigid with the effort of not climbing over the seat.
“So...” Cass’s voice was careful, halting. “So designations aren’t... they’re not part of divine design? They came from... from a virus?”
“They came from the Gensyn Corporation,” Riot said, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “The Syn-V-7 retrovirus was one of their experiments. They distributed it as a vaccine.”
There was another long silence and then a faint whimper.
Riot’s hands fisted on his thighs. His cock pulsed, leaking now—he could feel the wet spot spreading in his underwear, his body responding to every sound of distress like it was a mating call.
“You okay back there, carino?“ Lilac asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“I’m... yes. Just cramping a little.” Cass’s voice was tight. “I was told we were born with our designations. That it was the universe’s plan for... for harmony. Brother Matthias said Omegas and Alphas were meant to complete each other. That it was natural law.”
“It’s biological manipulation disguised as natural law,” Riot said. “It doesn’t make the feelings less real. But the system was designed to benefit corporations, not people.”
“Oh.” Cass’s voice was very small. “That’s... that’s a lot to...”
He trailed off, and Riot heard him shift in his seat, fabric rustling against leather.
The sound shouldn’t have been erotic. It was just movement, just cloth on upholstery.
But Riot’s brain supplied the image anyway—Cass squirming, trying to get comfortable, his thighs pressing together as slick leaked out of him, that desperate empty ache building in his core—
Stop. Stop thinking about it.
“Take your time,” Lilac said. “It’s a lot to process.”
“Why is there a lift in the back?” Cass asked suddenly, his voice steadier like he was trying to distract himself. “Does someone in your community use a wheelchair?”
“My partner,” Lilac said. “Granny Lu. She runs the Collective. She’s not about to let a little thing like not walking stop her from getting around.”
“That’s really...” Cass paused, and Riot heard him swallow. “That’s really thoughtful. In Elysian territory, they always said physical limitations were signs of spiritual resistance. People who couldn’t walk or see properly weren’t allowed in the... in the main meditation spaces.”
The casual cruelty of that statement made Riot turn fully in his seat.
And there was Cass—beautiful, flushed, suffering Cass—looking at him with those blown pupils and that trembling lower lip, and Riot’s vision went gold at the edges. “That’s—” He caught himself before he swore. “That’s messed up.”
Cass flinched slightly anyway, and Riot softened his voice. “Sorry. I just mean... that’s not right. Physical disabilities aren’t spiritual failures. They’re just part of how some people’s bodies work. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Cass’s brow furrowed. “That makes more... more sense, actually. I always wondered why the meditation masters seemed so angry at people who couldn’t... couldn’t help their...”
“Riot,” Lilac said quietly, casting a glance in his direction. “His scent…”
I know. I fucking know.
“I’m okay,” Cass said, attempting a weak smile. His face was sheened with sweat now, and he was gripping the door handle so hard his knuckles were white. “Everything just... aches. And I can’t get comfortable. And there’s this... this feeling like...”
He stopped, flushing darker.
“Like what?” Riot prompted.
“Like something’s wrong inside me. Empty. I don’t know how to explain it.” Cass’s voice wavered. “Can you... would you come sit with me? Please?”
No. Terrible idea. Worst possible decision.
“Riot—” Lilac began, a warning in her tone.
But Cass was hunched over, arms wrapped around himself, trembling and trying so hard to be brave.
And underneath the want—underneath the relentless pulse of take him, claim him, fill him—was something softer.
Something that wanted to gather Cass up and hold him until the pain stopped.
Something that ached at the sight of those tears threatening to spill.
Oh, fuck. I’m in so much trouble.
He climbed into the backseat.
“Riot!” Lilac made a frustrated sound. “Keep your hands where I can see them, cabrón.”
“This is better,” Cass breathed, and the relief in his voice was palpable. He stayed pressed against his side of the seat, but Riot could see him fighting the instinct to move closer. “Just having you near is... it helps.”
“You don’t have to stay over there,” Riot heard himself say. “If proximity helps.”
What are you doing. Stop talking.
“Riot.” Lilac snapped. “I swear to God—”
Cass looked at him with something like hope mixed with uncertainty. “Really?”
No.
“Really.”
Cass didn’t need to be told twice. He shifted across the seat until he was pressed against Riot’s side, and the moment they made contact, something in his expression eased.
The lines of pain around his eyes softened.
His breathing deepened. The trembling in his hands gradually stilled.
The press of his body against Riot’s side was heaven and hell combined.
“You’re really warm,” Cass murmured, already sounding more settled. “Is that a Berserker thing or... or a you thing?”
“Both, probably,” Riot managed, his voice coming out rougher than intended. Every cell in his body was screaming mine at the weight of Cass against his side.
“Dios mío,“ Lilac muttered from the front seat. “I’m going to need to fumigate this car.”
“Sorry,” Cass said, pulling back slightly. “I’m sorry, I know I smell—”
“She’s teasing,” Riot said, tugging him back against his side. His hand found Cass’s hip, fingers digging in harder than strictly necessary. “You smell fine.”
“He smells like a heat bomb about to go off,” Lilac corrected, her eyes finding Riot’s in the mirror with a clear warning. “And you smell like a rut about to break through two doses of suppressants, so maybe we could all just try to keep it together for another couple hours, yeah?”
“I’m sorry for being so much trouble, Miss Lilac,” Cass said softly.