2. Emile
EMILE
Our gorgeous little omega leapt out of the car before I could grab her, then tumbled twice.
Lark scrambled to her feet, hands still bound before her, and took off down the city street.
Conor slammed on the brakes and jerked the vehicle up on the sidewalk, swearing furiously as I took off after our girl—our mate.
“That was fucking sexy,” I shouted after her as I ran.
She turned around and flipped me off with both of her bound hands, her grin so gorgeous my chest ached.
I could feel Conor’s frustration through our bond, but goddess, a hunt? I was in love. Heady desire coursed through my veins at the thought of chasing her, catching her, and forcing her to take our cocks, to take our knots.
We’d waited so long for this—studied her, stalked her, built our penthouse with a nest for her, obsessed over every detail about this perfect, stunning woman. It’d rip my heart out if we lost her now.
Fuck, she was fast. She darted around a corner, then clambered up a fence, using her bound hands to haul herself up. She reached the top and grinned down at me, slicing her hands down hard on the razor wire and opening her bindings.
I snared a hand around her ankle, only for Lark to reach around and swipe at me with a knife that appeared like magic. She aimed for my throat, and I jerked back just in time for her to slice through my raised forearm instead.
Pain shot through me as she sliced deep, that and unmitigated lust for this delightful omega.
She was perfect. My cock hardened as I followed her up the fence, not nearly as neat and elegant as she. I dropped to the other side with a thud, the landing jarring my bones.
The omega was meters ahead of me, her gorgeous ass encased in tight black denim tucked into shitkicker boots, and it took everything I had to concentrate on catching her rather than watching that fine ass as she ran.
“Omega,” I barked. “Stop.”
To my shock, she skidded to a halt. Fuck yes, she really was a scent match for us, just as I suspected.
My bark shouldn’t have worked on anyone but Conor, anyone but my pack.
But with a scent match? All bets were off.
Before I could shove down my sense of wonder at how lucky we were and bark again, she shook off the command and dashed forward.
I chased her through the warrens, well aware Conor was tracking my movements on his phone. She was too smart to corral, but—
Shit.
Where’d she go?
I stopped, listening carefully, panic sluicing through my veins at the thought of losing her, of the thought of her running through the streets of the city at night, a lone omega, with no one to protect her from big, bad alphas on the hunt.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I caught the soft thud of her boots as she ran. On silent feet, I took up the chase again, only to discover her in a blind alley, swearing viciously.
Lark whirled around, her sable hair loose and disheveled from her flight.
Her chest heaved and sweat dotted her brow. Her eyes, such a deep brown they were practically black in the dark, flicked toward the fire escape to her left, then back toward me.
“Don’t come any closer,” she growled, wielding the same knife she’d used against me earlier.
“Run all you want, little omega. I live for the hunt,” I purred as I stepped closer, watching her eyes dilate as she took in my scent, amplified by the physical activity. The rumble in my chest soothed her. “And so do you.”
Her nipples peaked inside her bra, ill-concealed through the fabric of her thin T-shirt, but she didn’t drop the knife. Interesting. Idly, I wondered if adrenaline was fucking with her omega instincts.
“Stay the fuck back,” she snarled.
I ignored her. Of course I did. She was my mate, and there was no way on this goddess damned earth I was going to let her walk away from me, not now, not when she was so fucking close.
Her lilac and vanilla scent blew over me, and I had to adjust my cock as it swelled.
“You’re so gorgeous,” I cooed. “So clever and sexy, murdering all those omega-abusing alphas. Let us take care of you, little one. Let us worship you like you deserve.”
She snorted. “Yeah, sure, if worship is code for ‘give up my freedom’.”
I blinked. What? That’s not how—
She took advantage of my momentary confusion to take a running leap for the fire escape.
Mon dieu, she was magnificent.
Conor and I stalked Lark for almost two years, noting her habits prior to her kills, analyzing her delightfully murderous history to help us predict her next targets. She murdered alphas who abused omegas, getting closer and closer to the assholes who ran the Omega Institute.
For the last three kills, we’d beaten her to the punch, hoping to draw her out so we could catch and claim this gorgeous, murderous, fascinating woman.
I dashed after her, wrapped my fingers around her ankles, and yanked her downward, rolling as we fell so she’d land on top of me.
Momentarily stunned by the impact, neither of us moved.
She lay over me, her thighs straddling me, breasts pressing into my chest, and need wafting off her. I still held her close, and the whiff of her arousal had me ready to rut her right there on the goddess damned asphalt.
She ground her hips, and my own jerked in response. The whine that escaped her lips undid me, and I rolled us to capture her beneath me, holding my hand beneath her head so it wouldn’t slam into the ground.
“Mine,” I growled, and she didn’t dispute my verbal claim. Each roll of her hips, each squirm, drove my cock harder against her center. I yanked her arms above her head, holding them with one hand, and wrapped the other around her throat.
“Look at you,” I breathed. “Look how fucking fierce you are. You’re so fucking beautiful in your resistance.”
Lark’s eyes were wide and obsidian and so dark with need, I couldn’t resist. I dragged my lips against hers, once, twice, then again, before licking at the seam, commanding her to let me in.
When she pressed her lips closer together, I squeezed her throat.
She perfumed.
Oh goddess, our sweet little omega perfumed when I limited her air supply. What else might turn on our violent delight?
I stroked her jaw with my thumb, her scent short-circuiting my thoughts.
Her lips parted, and I devoured her, tasting every corner of her mouth, desperate to possess her, to leave my mark on her, if only psychologically.
When she finally responded, stroking my tongue against hers, I rocked my hips again, rubbing my cock against her center.
Lark moaned and arched her back, thrusting her breasts up into my chest. Her legs fell open, and her perfume flooded my senses.
She whined, that gorgeous, sweet sound omegas made when they needed their alphas, and I released her wrists to push myself up and palm her breast. Her nipple pebbled against my hand through the layers of fabric, tight and hard and begging for me to bend down and wrap my lips around it.
Tentatively, slowly, as if she were terrified, she brought her hands to my shoulders, then slid one up into my hair, her fingers scratching into my scalp.
Fuck, she was delicious. So sweet and soft and—
She yanked my head back, using her other hand to jab her stiff fingers up into my neck. I released her, gagging and gasping for air.
Breathing hard, her pupils blown with lust, she used my shock to scramble out from underneath me and to her feet.
I couldn’t wipe the wild grin off my face—our omega was a fucking treasure.
Rasping, the breath knocked out of me, I lumbered to my feet as she dashed out of the alley and down the sidewalk, only for her to run smack dab into Conor, who enveloped her in his embrace, purring until she melted against him.
His blue eyes flicked to mine, before returning to the omega he was calming with his scent and purr.
“She likes the hunt,” I said. “You don’t need to do that.”
He hummed, then turned Lark in his arms. “Is that true, sweet girl? Are you a slut for your alphas already, and I don’t need to use my purr to calm you down?”
She whined again, arching against him, and I stepped up to her back, surrounding her with our scents. “I think she likes the pursuit. Isn’t that right, little one?”
Lark shook her head, as if trying to escape the fog of our hormones. “Let me go,” she cried weakly, even as she ground her ass into my cock.
Conor tangled his fingers in her hair, dragging her gaze up to his. He ran his nose from her shoulder to her neck. “Such a sweet morsel, a serial killer who’s evaded the law for years, over a dozen kills. You’re magnificent.”
Lark froze, the glaze of lust leaving her eyes. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“We’re monsters, same as you,” Conor said against the side of her neck, right under her jawline, gently scratching at her scent gland with his teeth. “And we want you.”
The violent tremble that shook her wasn’t lust, it was fear. Lark might be turned on, but she was terrified, and where was the fun in that? I wanted to hurt her, over and over and over, but scaring her off wouldn’t get her bouncing on my cock any quicker.
“Let’s play a game,” I said, brushing my fingers down her torso, reveling in how her muscles tightened under my touch.
“We’re going to give you a five-second head start.
If you escape, you’re free. You can take the extra dose of suppressant I know you’ve got in your back pocket and disappear. And if we catch you—”
She scoffed. “Why do I have to bargain for my freedom?”
“If we catch you,” I continued as though she hadn’t interrupted, “we’ll do what we were going to do anyway.”
“Which is?”
I cupped her breasts, seeking her nipples through the layers of clothes and tweaking them hard.
The sweet scent of lilac and vanilla flooded out of her.
“Exactly what you want,” I whispered into her ear, noting the shiver of desire that worked its way down her spine.
“Fuck you until you can’t remember your name. ”
“That’s not what I want,” she snapped.
“Liar.” I shoved my hand between her legs from behind, and her thighs twitched as she sought friction with my hand through her jeans. “That’s exactly what you want.”
“I don’t want to be claimed,” she said with a gasp.
I found her clit and pressed hard. She moaned and rode my hand, her sweet scent driving any thought beside knotting her out of my head.
“Don’t fucking care whether you want to be claimed or not,” I rasped.
“You want to fuck me?” she asked, an edge of burnt sugar adding a note of bitterness to her scent. Did she not believe us?
I bent my face to her neck, dropping hot kisses along her neck as she stared up at my packmate.
“Fuck yes, omega. Fuck you, knot you, claim you,” Conor muttered, cupping her breast, heedless of the blood that stained his hands.
“You can’t claim me,” she whispered, turning in Conor’s arms to face me.
I shared a long look with my packmate—my lover—over her head.
He twisted his lips in frustration, and I flooded our bond with reassurance. We would claim our mate. We would take her and own her and make her forget how to breathe without us. But we didn’t have to tell her that.
“We won’t claim you,” I lied, watching her eyes dilate with relief and—was that disappointment? “Or maybe you’ll claim us first.”
Lark flushed, and the pink was so damn pretty on her face, I kissed her again. Maybe I wouldn’t have to lie to her anymore to get her on my cock. Which was so fucking hard it hurt. I wanted to lift her up, tear her clothes off, and rut into her on the street.
“And if I get away, I’m free? You’ll leave me alone for good?”
I bent down to lick across her kiss-swollen lips, coaxing her to open them for me. Conor kneaded her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples under her shirt, as she mewled between us. While she was distracted, I reached into his pocket and drew out the small syringe he held in there.
Conor purred, deep and rumbly, with so much alpha need behind it I had to fight not to bare my neck and submit to him.
Our little omega, though, was lost. Her head lolled back as she offered herself up for me. It shouldn’t have been this easy, not for an omega on suppressants, not ever, but here she was, ready to strip down in the street and take my knot. Conor’s knot too.
Because we were scent matches. Fuck. What a perfect gift from the goddess. And we weren’t going to let her go, no matter how wily she might be.
While Conor tormented her breasts, I slid the syringe into her neck.
She yelped at the pain, but we held her too tightly for her to jerk away and hurt herself.
“Yeah, little one. If you can get away from us, we’ll let you go free.”
With the drugs coursing through her system, she’d be lucky if she made it to the end of the block.
Then we’d take what was ours.