Chapter Three
Zilas
The insistent beeping worms its way into my sleeping brain. As I reluctantly wake, I realize it’s my handheld. I stand, rolling out of my small bed, and stretch. I rub my horn as I blearily pad across the room, passing my neatly ordered, but tiny, kitchenette.
I have to re-read the message three times before it really hits me.
A pack wants to meet with me.
My tail curls around my leg nervously.
A pack wants to meet with me.
Holy stars, a pack wants to meet with me!
I frantically type a response even as I pace my room at the Beta House. “Anytime. Whenever they would like,” I send to the Concord office.
The response is near immediate. “They would like to meet you today. Directly after lunch.”
“Of course,” I respond, tapping out a message to my co-owner at the bakery, letting them know I’d need a long lunch break.
Celnoe doesn’t have a true monetary system.
However, as a beta, I was expected to take up a trade.
The father I was closest with was a charax, so I learned to cook and bake as a small kit.
I loved it. Proper training in baking, followed by opening a bakery—since I made it all the way through schooling without being chosen for a pack—were the logical steps.
Sure, I had met with many packs over my years at the Beta House.
But we had never meshed. Something was always wrong.
One pack had been very close to accepting me, but their charax—at the last moment—changed their mind.
Worried about me taking his place, I suppose.
Another, the three alphas and I had gotten on swimmingly, but their female beta and I immediately butted heads.
Most betas, by my age, if not chosen by a pack, had either found a beta to partner with, or had settled into a solitary life.
But not me.
I am determined. A pack will choose me. I’ll wait at the Beta House as long as it takes.
Staying in shape, and up to date on fashion and trends, keeping my hair long and stylish with shaved sides, my horns capped in precious metals, to show a pack I was ready and willing to be chosen.
I also made sure my skills in the kitchen were incredible and learned a bit of everything related to keeping a home.
And read many books on pack and interspecies relationships.
After the Red Paralysis that took our omegas, it was discovered that female betas were able to produce kits for alphas, and not just male betas. So female betas became valuable, scooped up by packs hoping to have younglings. But male betas... well. I’m still waiting for my pack.
I enjoyed my work and my play—though never with an alpha, lest a pack that might want me learn about it and be jealous—but I longed for a pack. A family. A home.
I throw on clothes, excited.
This is it. This is my pack. I can feel it.
THE MORNING PASSED quickly as the shop was busy, our cases empty in only a few spans.
I’m back at the Beta House, waiting in one of the social rooms. Pacing again, as I cannot sit still. Before the arranged time, I had shined up my horn caps and put on a drapey shirt, allowing my pecs to be on obvious display.
I can’t wait to meet them. I’m already envisioning four huge alpha males and what we might do together. Oh, Zatura, it would be incredible to wake in a warm pile of bodies, sated and safe.
The door opens. I spin, smiling and ready to meet my pack.
Females.
Pack Traex are female alphas. And only two.
I blink and come forward, tipping my head in polite greeting.
A quick nod back and their eyes rove over me. I discreetly look over them as well.
They are slightly taller than me. Both are slender and muscular with the small breasts common of Celnoe women.
The aleron—her position in the pack obvious given her bearing—steps close to me, sniffing. I stand still, allowing the blatant inspection for compatibility. Her skin is a pretty purply blue, hair long and wavy, horns thick and curved back around her head. She is a bit shorter than the ebondenn.
I look over to the second alpha. Some emotion fills her eyes, but I can’t pin what. Given that I want them to choose me, I had better learn to read these alphas as soon as possible. But she gives off an aura of command, not surprising since an ebondenn is intended to keep pack members in line.
She has short, shaggy hair that’s a rich, dark gray and skin a gorgeous muted blue shade.
“Ink,” the first says. “Come here and smell him.”
The second’s eyes stay locked on me as she steps closer.
Nervous. She’s nervous.
Why in the stars would an alpha be nervous around me? I lower my head though, a show of submission.
“Fuck,” she curses quietly. I continue staring at their feet, but I sniff discreetly. Betas don’t have near as sensitive of a nose as alphas or omegas, but I can tell they both smell sweet, sugary. I want to bury my face against their skin.
The one called Ink continues, “You’re Zilas Icced.”
“Yes.”
“You’re older than most of the betas here.”
“With age comes experience,” I respond, allowing a tiny flirty edge in my tone, though I don’t look up.
The first snorts. “And you’re a trained baker?”
“Yes.”
“Your files indicated that your personality would mesh with ours,” Ink says.
I blink and slowly raise my face to look at them. “Perhaps we should set up the traditional seven outings? Get to know each other?” I ask, hope blooming painfully yet again.
“Azane...” Ink’s tone is warning.
The other alpha is silent, however.
I let the silence stretch a few moments.
“Alpha Azane, alpha Ink,” I say.
“Inken,” she corrects, an edge in her gaze that holds none of that nervousness now.
“Alpha Inken,” I repeat meekly, and she grins.
Of course, that makes sense for an ebondenn.
“I would love to learn about you both, about your home, your dreams, everything. There is nothing I want more than a pack. I would love it if we were to discover we are compatible."
“Let’s find out now. Speed run this,” Azane says, light blue eyes meeting mine.
“What do you mean by that, alpha Azane?”
Inken turns but my eyes stay locked on Azane. She’s smirking in the manner only an alpha can. The door shuts, and the curtains are drawn over the window.
The intoxicating scent coming from them both increases, and my eyes flutter closed in pleasure.
My chin is cupped gently and I open my eyes to see Inken in front of me. “Beta Zilas... will you offer your obedience to me, right now, for this test, as though you were of our pack?”
I nod, wordless. Stars yes, I would.
“Then disrobe.”
My hands leisurely rise to my shirt. I undo buttons unhurriedly, relishing their covetous gazes upon me.
I drop one shoulder as I tug the shirt off, and the other, letting it drop.
My hands pull at the laces on my trousers, which again, I take my time opening.
They both stare and their sweet scent thickens.
I drop them, my hard cock springing free. Not as ungainly as an alpha male, and no knot, of course, but I am a good size and know how to reach a female Celnoe’s pleasure center. In multiple ways. I lick my lips, my split tongue curling different directions as I get more of their scent in.
I stand nude and still, waiting for direction.
“That’s a good boy,” Inken purrs and my slit starts to weep at this simple but powerful praise from a wonderful-smelling alpha.
Shit, their pheromones are strong.
Azane steps to Inken, slipping an arm around her waist and I don’t know how, but my cock gets harder seeing them touch in such a casual yet intimate manner.
Not typical public behavior for alphas. No, this is what I’d see if I was in their pack.
If we had a home together. That thought makes me bite down a groan.
“What do you wish of me?” I ask softly. Fear dances in my gut. “I... would do whatever you wanted... if we packed. But if I... if we...” I trail off, swallowing. “If we do, and you don’t accept me, I am afraid another alpha will take it ill.”
They both nod, purrs soft, eliciting a shiver from me.
“We would not sully you and leave you, Zilas,” Azane purrs.
“I do not ruin my playthings,” Inken says at the same moment, a dangerous edge in her voice.
“Make us release,” Azane demands, even as her hands untie her trousers, revealing her smooth, blue cunt.
My eyes go to Inken, the ebondenn. She grins, her hand cupping my cheek. “Ohhh, what a good boy, looking to me. Yes, obey our aleron as you would obey me, Zilas.”
I take a deep breath, trying to bring myself back from the edge of orgasm where I teeter, her words, her suggestion that I was pack, having zapped straight to my cock.
“May I move you, alpha?” I ask softly.
She tilts her head, arching a brow. “Alright, beta.”
I stand smoothly and scoop her up. She’s taller than me, but I am strong, and besides, she’s slender in the way of our females.
I gently place her on the couch, on her knees. “If you would lean your arms onto the back?” I say, playfulness coloring my voice.
She merely looks at me though.
Shit, too forward? I reel internally. How can I fix this fuckup?
But as I frantically try to recover, she purses her lips as she tries not to smile. She leisurely leans as I asked. Her belly drops low, causing her ass to arch up towards me.
I dive into her like a man starved, licking up her narrow lips, which part as I do so.
I lick her several more times, from front to back—the start of her slit to the end.
She makes a pleased noise as I work. Settling myself, I let my hand touch her hip.
When that touch earns no growl, I grab it firmly as I continue to lick her.
Using my cock is easier, but I love the taste of a pleased female, so this is no hard task.
Worshipping an alpha. My alpha, I hope.
When her cunt wets deliciously, her sweet taste thick on my tongue, I press three fingers into her.
She purrs louder, thighs spreading. I take her actions as approval so I wrap my other hand around her waist, spreading my large hand on her lower belly and pushing up, pulling her towards me, but also the pressure helping me hit her internal pleasure center.
That earns me another moan and my cock drips steadily, which I ignore.
My fingers search for the place that will bring her to orgasm.
When I find it, I lean in and lick a line up her—from where my fingers are buried, to her ass.
She wiggles in pleasure as I do so I keep at it.
My fingers pedal—curling at opposite times, over and over, and I press her back into me while I lick at her.
The other alpha, alpha Inken kneels near us. “Don’t fucking stop, beta,” she growls.
I would never.
“She’s going to finish in your mouth,” Inken whispers as her tail delicately wraps around the base of my cock. “And after, you’re going to service me.”
At that, Azane shatters, hips rocking forcefully as she cries out, my fingers still rubbing inside her as I lick and lap at her pleasure that escapes her light-blue pussy, and at her little ass.
I don’t stop though. Not when her sounds die off, not when her muscles relax.
My alpha. Mine.
“Thank you, Zilas,” Azane says, clearing her throat.
At that obvious instruction, I do stop. As I open and close my bleary eyes, Inken is next me, pants off, and ready.
“On your knees, beta, and worship your alpha,” she growls.
Mine. My alpha.
Those are my last thoughts as I lose myself fully in her.