Claimed Omega (Tormented Omega #2)

Chapter 1

Vee

I wake up burning.

My body is cramping. Sharp twists deep in my abdomen that make me whine before I'm fully conscious. The sound comes out high and pathetic.

Someone moves beside me.

I force my eyes open. The room swims into focus. Unfamiliar walls. Unfamiliar bed. A window with pale curtains.

Where am I?

Then the scent hits me.

Coffee. Rich and overwhelming. My omega lunges toward it with a desperation that makes my chest ache.

I turn my head toward the scent. Coffee… not the cedar I remember. Different. My brain reaches for the reason and the heat swallows it whole.

Malcolm is sitting on the edge of the bed. Broad shoulders. Hair slightly messy. His eyes are watching me with careful intensity.

"Hey." He speaks low. "You're awake."

Another cramp seizes me and I curl into myself with a gasp.

Fragments come back. The porch. Rain on my skin. Finn's arms lifting me and being carried inside.

Alex and Malcolm's scents hitting me without blockers for the first time.

The bond flaring bright and vicious.

Scent matches.

Both of them.

My stomach twists with more than just heat cramps. Fury surfaces through the haze. They lied. They hid what they were. They lived next door for months and I had no idea.

"Why?" The word comes out broken. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Malcolm's jaw tightens. "I will explain everything. I promise. But right now you need help."

My chest is still heaving, pain and anger knotted together somewhere under my ribs. “How long did you know?” The words are sharp. “How long were you going to wait to tell me?”

Malcolm doesn’t even flinch. “It doesn’t matter right now,” he says softly, but there’s steel under it. “What matters is you have a choice, and you need to make it while you can still think straight. Before the next wave.”

I swallow. My throat is so dry it burns.

He leans forward, careful, hands braced on his knees.

“We know you hate the registry. That’s why we wanted to ask first. But if you want us to take you there, we will.

Right now. They’ll assign you a substitute pack for the rest of your heat.

You were too far gone by the time we found you for medical intervention.

Suppressants would only hurt you, especially after everything you’ve been through. So you have to make a choice, Vee.”

He pauses, swallowing.

“If you want another pack, we’ll get you one.

A stand in for your heat. You’ll be safe, and we’ll leave you alone.

Or if you want us to go to your house, pound down Ragon’s door, and force him and his pack to take care of you, we’ll do that too.

Whatever you want, Vee. Or…” He glances over his shoulder at the closed door, then back to me.

“You can let me and Finn help you. But only if you’re sure.

I know you’re angry. I know we lied. I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose us just because of biology. ”

I blink. My vision goes fuzzy for a second. “What about Alex?” I ask, voice barely there.

“He can’t help you with this,” he says. “Not right now. We’ll talk about that part later. But for now, it’s just those two options. Registry substitutes, Ragon, or us. There’s nothing else, I’m sorry.”

I want to scream. Or cry. Or both. “If I say yes,” I whisper, “you won’t…” I shake my head, because the word “claim” sticks in my throat.

Malcolm’s expression softens. “No. I won’t claim you.

You’re not ready to make that decision, and I’m not going to pressure you.

There’s no obligation. This is just help for your heat.

That’s it, Vee. After this, if you never want to bond with us, we’ll respect it. But you need care. You know you do.”

I press my forehead to my knees. I can barely keep my thoughts straight, but they keep coming anyway.

The registry. That cold, endless white hallway. The beta nurse who wouldn’t meet my eyes. How the walls smelled like nothing and no one.

Ragon’s house. Hearing Eli in that room with Marie. Drake promising, “We’ll focus on you after, I swear,” while I stood stoic. Ragon’s order for me to watch while he ruined my nest. The sound of my crying.

I used to think it was normal. I used to think it was fine, that omega life meant waiting in the dark for someone to decide you mattered.

But right now… Malcolm’s scent is everywhere, steady and grounding.

His purr is low and rumbling, even when he isn’t speaking.

It vibrates through my bones, softer than the pain, but everywhere.

I realize I’m leaning toward him without even thinking about it, like my body already knows what it needs.

There’s a pull in my chest, a connection so sharp and deep it’s almost frightening.

I remember in flashes when I realized who he was to me…

who they were. I remember the feeling that bloomed inside me when I imprinted on them.

Not a full bond, just my omega recognizing her mates.

I wonder if this is what Ragon and the others felt, back when they first saw Marie.

That instant belonging. Longing. Lust and desire dancing inside their chests. A sense of peace.

It doesn’t make anything okay. Not what Ragon’s pack did, or Alex’s. Or what I’m feeling right now. What I want to do. But for now, Malcolm is better than the registry. And anything is better than Ragon.

I swallow hard. “I want you and Finn.” The sound is barely a whisper.

Another cramp hits and the whine that escapes me is pure omega distress. My thighs are slick. The ache between my legs is so intense it borders on pain.

Malcolm doesn't move closer. He's waiting for permission.

I should tell him to leave. I should demand answers. I should do anything except what I'm about to do.

But the heat doesn't care about pride.

"Please." The word tastes like surrender.

Malcolm moves. He shifts fully onto the bed and reaches for me. His hands are warm and sure. When he pulls me into his lap my whole body sags with relief.

His scent wraps around me. His purr moves deep in his chest. It caresses my spine and makes every muscle loosen. The cramps don't disappear but they ease enough that I can breathe.

He keeps going, the rumble warm and deep, and I don’t realize I’m moving until I’m crawling into his lap, my thighs straddling his.

His fingers splay across my waist, calloused thumbs grazing the hollow of my hipbones.

The sound I make when his scent hits me full force is embarrassing, but I don’t stop.

He strokes my back, up under the thin nightgown, and I shiver. My skin is on fire. I want more. I want everything.

“You need it, don’t you?” His voice is rough, not mocking. He sounds almost pained.

I nod, gasping when his hands slide lower, squeezing my ass. “Malcolm, I want you to…” Words are hard. My brain is a haze of want.

He doesn’t make me finish. He flips me easily, so I’m on my back, and then he’s covering me, mouth hot and wet on my throat. He bites, not breaking skin, just enough to make my hips jerk against his.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I whimper, arching up. His cock is hard against my leg. I want it inside me so bad I almost cry.

He slides a hand between my legs and groans when he feels how slick I am. “You’re dripping for it.” His fingers push inside, two at once, and I can hear the wet noises. I don’t care. I want him deeper.

I rake my nails down his chest, over the muscles, digging in. He shudders. When I do it again, harder, he growls, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head.

“You want my knot?” he asks. It’s not really a question.

“Yes, Malcolm.”

His cock pushes against me, thick and hot. He slides in slowly, stretching me, and I moan so loud I barely recognize my own voice. It hurts and it doesn’t. It’s perfect.

He fucks me slow at first, hips rocking. I claw at his back, desperate, and he nips at my throat, just on the edge of pain.

His knot pops inside and I scream. My body clenches. He grinds against me until we’re locked together, pulsing inside me, filling me with thick, hot liquid. I come so hard my breath stutters, my vision going white at the edges.

He rolls us, so I’m on top, still locked, and his hands are everywhere. Palming my breasts, squeezing my hips, guiding me to grind on him as it starts to ease. I do, helpless to stop, sobbing his name.

He never lets up, not even when his arms start to shake with exhaustion. He fucks me through every wave, every aftershock, filling me over and over. His knot stretches me wide every time and I love it. I beg for it.

“Malcolm, again, now–”

“You’re perfect, Vee,” he rasps

I’m shaking. My legs are locked around his waist, my heels digging into the backs of his thighs. The pressure of his girth inside me is almost too much. My body is straining for him, arching into every thrust.

He holds my wrists tight, pinning them above my head. His breath is ragged and sharp in my ear.

His hips move and the bulge grinds right against the spot inside me that makes my vision go fuzzy. I cry out, half sob, half moan. I don’t care how desperate I sound. I am desperate. There’s nothing else in my world except the stretch and fullness and the heat rolling through me, wave after wave.

My nails dig into his skin when he releases me, leaving marks down his back.

He likes it—I can tell. He growls and then nips at my neck again, just enough to make my whole body jerk.

He’s careful not to break the skin, but it doesn’t matter.

The sharp edge of his teeth is enough to send me spiraling.

“Malcolm, don’t stop, I want you to–” The words dissolve. My body is doing all the talking for me. I’m clenching around him, dragging him deeper, greedy for every inch.