Fury #2
I don’t know what I expected inside as we move into the massive waiting area, draped with silks and luxury.
What I definitely don’t expect is the smell.
Holy fuck, my Alpha is blazing inside me, riding the edge of a rut already at the pure pheromones in the air.
There’s no oxygen, only roses and caramel and vanilla and coffee and all the things that could make up an individual's scent until they’re strung together in a nasal cacophony that has me holding a handkerchief over my nose.
They should have scrubbers in here, not just to keep the Omega’s scent low, but to draw out the thickness of Alphas in here.
It’s a melting pot waiting to blow. My wolf is panting, head jerking like he’s looking for the exit.
Teddy has Clay's face pulled down into his neck, and they’re talking through a panic attack.
Fuck, I hope he can bring him back. Then, like an angel, Lucas pulls something out from his suit pockets.
In one hand, a tub of herbal grease to smear under our noses, in the other, nasal blockers that will filter out most of the scents except the ones close to us.
I choose the blockers, slipping them into my nose and feeling vaguely like that weird teenage movie with the Omega playing on the Alpha's football team and stuffing her nose to stop scenting them. Teddy’s applying the grease just under Clay's nose, and I watch for any sign of his anxiety rising again, but he’s been grounded by our Beta and gives me a reassuring nod despite the fine film of sweat across his forehead already.
Keeping Teddy at the center of our pack, surrounded by our protective masses, we move towards the waiting area, and we all grimace a little at the resemblance to the old cattle chute next to the barn.
Clays holding Teddy's other arm, letting him balance on him when needed, and it delights me seeing them together. They bonded whilst the rest of us were out, shifted and hunting through the woods together. I hope it won’t be a setback that our Omega will join us on full moon nights to run, given that she is lunarly challenged too.
Lucas gives me an odd look from my side as I snort at that again, but we all fall silent as the heavy door slides up.
Fucking hell, if I thought the scent of Omega was overpowering before…
The blockers are doing their best, but even Teddy reels back from the veritable tsunami of smells hitting us.
Groans, moans, and even howls arise from the super pack of Alphas waiting for the Omegas to come along, rattling at the sides of the metal barriers until the guards start zapping them or bringing batons down on the overzealous grabbers.
But it all falls away with the first hint of her, and I know for certain I could pick her out of a hundred Omegas in a room with my eyes shut because I’m doing it now.
The assault on my nostrils brings my wolf forward again, desperate to go to her, to grab her by the scruff and drag her back to our den and bond her, but whilst the animal is feral, I like to think the man is substantially more intelligent and forward-thinking.
Or not. Both my Alpha and I like the den idea.
Lucas presses forward, a hand on my shoulder with curved claws pricking through my suit.
My second prides himself on his control, and even he’s struggling, chest heaving until his buttons are straining, tugging at his collar for air. I’ve never seen him so close to a rut.
“Caralho,” He breathes, his nostrils flaring around the blockers as he turns to us, blinking slowly a few times whilst I hear the sound of his molars grinding, “That’s her?”
Nodding my assent, I keep my mouth firmly shut. I’m so over the line into feral territory right now that I’m not sure that whatever comes out of my mouth would even be human.
Goddess, would she be wearing that sunset dress again with the bright yellow flash across her perfect tits?
No, I know as soon as she enters the room because the entire atmosphere changes.
Gravity itself no longer holds me to this earth; she does.
Saliva fills my mouth, fangs press against my lower lip, and my teeth ache in a way they never have for an Omega.
Fur creeps its way across the backs of my hands, and I have to cross my arms to hide them.
Red.
She’s completely in red this time, a black boned corset struggling to contain her chest, the slits in the long satin trails flashing her thighs with every step, like some long, blood-soaked wedding dress.
Roses are braided through her mahogany waves, a warrior goddess striding onto the battlefield with her head high, and her little fangs flash as she growls at the reaching hands.
I’m painfully hard as she walks down the long aisle, her very image searing into my brain, and I just know my pack feels it too.
She would have walked right past us if not for Atlas whispering her name so reverently that I half expected him on his knees already.
Despite the rabble around us, her pale eyes lock onto our pack, and the relief in them is such a brief salve on my heart until I see past them to the deep purple circles beneath the makeup, and the yellowing bruises peering beneath the corset.
With a quick step, she’s out of formation, dodging the other Alphas to reach through the barrier and cup my neck.
It looks flirtatious to anyone around us, but I can see her relaxing as she pulls back and rubs that same hand across her face.
Such a simple action that has all my instincts on edge and roaring to have her as she uses my scent for comfort.
It’s every Alpha's dream to see their Omega find safety in their pack's scent and shove it in everyone's faces that she is claimed, on top of that.
As quickly as she arrived, she is gone, spinning on a tide of scarlet and taking our breath with her.
The rest of the Omegas funnel through, then we are moved away to the tables around the room, a fancy little placecard with ‘Pack Amberwood’ scrawled on it.
Unlike some of the others, we have been secreted away in the corner booth.
A waiter arrives to take our drinks order, bowing, then excusing himself, and it hits us all very quickly that we have no idea how these things work; with any luck, they’ll explain it.
Once the packs are all seated and the guards are distributed around the room, they release the auctions for the night to mingle with us.
The first few are tentative as they leave from a back room, raising their heads and sniffing, or heading out to the bar.
From what I can see, it’s mainly women, some barely out of their teens and freshly designated, all the way to a couple of almost elderly Omegas with crinkled skin and silvery hair.
Our girl has another short Omega next to her, darker hair in tight curls down her back, wearing a pale blue dress.
Chatting for a moment, Skye gives her a tight hug and a stern talk, then passes her off to a pack on the way towards us.
She really does look like a queen, striding confidently through the crowds like she expects them to part for her.
We all stand as another Alpha catches her arm, a ripple of murderous intent through our entire pack, but a guard steps in to free her, and she moves again, her steps a little quicker, her eyes darting as if she's looking for more danger, or another escape route.
Stopping again, we see her pale and shrink this time.
Interfering with our Omega is a brute of an Alpha, nearly as tall and broad as Atlas, but with that lethal intent and an odd bulge at his waistline, he has me on high alert, especially as his hand keeps dropping to it.
Then his scent drifts in, barely past the blockers…
Fuck he’s a shifter too. This could get messy if he catches wind of us at the table, so for now, we just watch, tense, until the other Alpha steps back, running a hand through his slicked back hair.
“See you after the bidding, pup,” He blows a kiss to her as he moves away, disappearing behind the curtains next to the stage. Our little Omega pretty much throws herself at the table, climbing over us to settle between me and Atlas.
“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Rubbing her stomach, she looks between us with a much cheerier grin, “I hope you’ve ordered enough drinks to make me forget my own name.”