16. Lark
LARK
My alphas were idiots. I looked fondly over my shoulder into the bedroom where they lay curled up together, seeking the comfort of each other’s arms. They kept their paralytics in their medicine cabinet where anyone could find them.
Where an omega coming back to lucidity after the haze of her heat could find them.
Where I could find them.
Carefully, I filled two syringes, flicking each one to release the air bubbles.
If I didn’t leave now, I would fall in love.
No. Lying to myself never helped. If I didn’t leave now, I’d have to admit that I’d fallen in love with them the first time they captured me, that I hadn’t passed a single moment without obsessing over them during our months apart, and that leaving now was breaking my heart.
I’d have to admit that I wasn’t the type of omega they deserved—a sweet, biddable omega suitable for breeding and keeping house.
I’d have to face the fact that my womb was broken.
And I couldn’t.
Not now. Not ever.
I injected each alpha, then turned on my heel before spinning back to them. They wouldn’t be able to move, even if I woke them up.
If I bit them now and they didn’t follow me, find me, it’d fade within a few days. And if they did find me and claim me, we’d have a mate bond instead of a one-sided claiming—a bond where I would hold as much power over them as they held over me.
I wanted that.
I wanted that so fucking bad.
The pain of their imagined rejection ripped through me, almost destroying my resolve. If I did this and they didn’t come find me—
No. You’re Lark. And if they don’t want you, that’s their fucking loss.
First, Conor. I walked around to his side of the bed, then bent down and bit his neck, piercing my teeth through his scent gland.
The bond formed instantly. It wouldn’t last—an omega couldn’t force a bond like an alpha could—but it was enough that I could feel his tumultuous presence in my soul, like a puzzle piece slotting into place.
Now, Emile. His eyes opened wide when I bit him, the bond flooding with surprise, then worry, then intense affection as he stared at me.
I brushed my lips over his and rushed out of their apartment before I could change my mind.
This soon after my heat, my hormones would be naturally suppressed. I had a day, maybe two if I was lucky, before I’d have to start suppressants again. My first stop was a convenience store to pick up a burner phone using the cash I’d lifted from Emile’s wallet.
“This is six-three-oh-seven,” I said the moment the other line picked up. “Checking in.” Our numbers were nonsense. The omega on the other line knew it was me. The number was to let her know I was okay after disappearing after the pickup at the brothel—I checked the date on the phone—four days ago.
Four fucking days.
“The cargo’s fine. Dispersing,” the disembodied voice on the other end of the line said.
“I need—” I stopped and looked, really looked, at the passersby hurrying to their jobs, home to their families, rushing hither and dither through the early morning streets.
If I really wanted to escape my alphas, I’d have to disappear.
Fuck that.
Conor and Emile had found me once. More than once. If they really wanted me, if they wanted me as I was, then they’d find me again. They’d complete the bond. They’d make me their mate. And if they didn’t, I’d nurse my broken heart and go back to murdering assholes.
“I don’t need anything. Keep me up to date on the cargo.”
The next day, I woke to find myself smashed between two hot bodies—two hot, hard, alpha bodies that smelled like everything I loved in this world—pressing me between them on my tiny double bed.
“Omega,” Emile growled. “Stop wiggling.”
“How did you get in?”
Emile laughed softly against my hair, shifting me so his steel cock rubbed against my pajama-clad ass.
“Honestly, my delicious little murderer, I love you, but this bed has got to go,” Conor complained, rolling over so he faced me, then nipping at my nose. “Are you sure you don’t want to just move into our place?”
“Why are you here?” I breathed, sitting up, only for the two men to drag me back down between them.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Emile asked. “Chérie, we’re yours. You claimed us. Why would we ever leave your side again?”
Satisfaction rolled through the bond.
“You didn’t have to bite us, love,” Emile murmured as he traced the sensitive shell of my ear with his nose. “You could have just left.”
I didn’t want to.
“You wanted us to chase you.” True. “You wanted us to find you.” True. “You want us to grovel.” True. Conor nibbled at my throat, nipping at the sensitive scent gland where he would claim me. “You want us to claim you.” True. “But we’re not going to do it yet. Not until you beg us to.”
I shifted until I rode Emile, my pussy riding against his rock-hard cock, separated only by a few thin layers of fabric, my slick rapidly soaking through. “I won’t. Ever.”
He reached up to stroke my face. “Are you sure about that?”
I was so fucked.
They’d been toying with me the whole time.
And now they were going to—
A purr rumbled out of Conor’s chest, soothing me instantly. No, I had to—
Emile purred too, and I melted, forgetting why I was so upset, content to lie here wrapped in the arms of these two alphas, sweetly drowning in the affection flowing through the bond I’d created when I claimed them.
“We’re going to claim you while your bite is still fresh,” Conor said.
A mutual bond was rare. It gave the omega all the power in the pack—the ability to stop their alphas in their tracks, if need be, just as they could stop me with their bark.
I wanted it so badly I could taste it.
Could it work? Could these alphas really be my mates?
The purrs stopped, and I protested.
“You need a clear head when you make this decision,” Emile murmured.
“And if I’m not ready?”
Conor laughed softly against my hair. “You are.”
I snorted my disagreement.
“You’re adorable when you’re in denial.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Goddess, please, that would be so fucking hot. I’d die a happy man.”
To my surprise, Conor was right. I was ready. I arched my neck, offering it to him, and he groaned, his cock pressing into my ass.
Dissatisfied with our positions, my alphas tugged at my pajamas until I was nude, then lifted me so I could ride Conor. He used his fingers to spread my slick, running a finger up and down my ass and making me squirm with need.
Emile arranged himself behind me. Moments later, the two of them filled me, the shock of pain quickly replaced by the most intense desire of my life.
“Beg for it,” Emile murmured, licking my neck.
“Never,” I snapped, even as I rolled my hips and took them both deeper inside of me.
“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” Conor said. “Your greedy omega pussy clenching my cock, milking me, desperate for my knot.”
I whined, the sound so purely omega it surprised all three of us.
“There she is,” Emile said, wonder in his voice. “Lark, you’re so goddess damned perfect.”
I whined again as they rocked me back and forth, establishing a slow and steady rhythm that did absolutely nothing to satisfy the aching need in my core.
“You’ll claim me because I command you to,” I gasped, lifting my chin.
Conor’s lips curved against my neck in a smile. “It’s my fucking honor.”
He snapped his hips, drawing a howl of pleasure out of me, before grasping my neck between his teeth and biting down hard.
Emile did the same on the other side.
The pain was debilitating, all-consuming, rushing through me from my scent glands to my toes and back again in a wave of agony so intense my vision wavered.
The strongest climax of my life roared through me as the bonds snapped into place between us, an open link that the two alphas poured their love through, filling in the cracks in my soul with gold.
Conor growled my name as he came inside of me.
Emile whispered it as he did the same. Instead of collapsing, exhausted, into bed as I expected, allowing us to bask in the sunlight of our bond, they rearranged me on their laps, carefully lapping at the bite marks, sending shivering aftershocks of pleasure as they cared for me—as my alphas cared for me.
Mine.
“I love how possessive you are,” Emile murmured against my neck, his amusement teasing at my heart like a gentle feather. “I can feel it through the bond,” he explained when I looked at him quizzically.
Conor extracted himself from underneath me with a groan, only to return a moment later with a warm, wet towel that he used to clean me up. Afterward, he tilted my chin up to look me in the eye. “How’re you feeling, baby?”
I took stock of my aching muscles, the bruises that covered me, my sore pussy and ass, and the blissful contentment that rolled over me every time I glanced at my pack mates.
Hesitation came over me. Was it too early? Would they think I was too much?
Emile wrapped me in his arms, arranging me so I was sprawled across his chest. Conor draped one of my legs over his, and they soothed me with their touch.
“Je t’aime,” Emile murmured into my hair. “I’ve loved you since the first time you beat us to a kill.”
Conor ran a hand up my back to tangle in my hair. “I've killed for you. Bled for you. Waited two years to make you mine.” His voice dropped to gravel. “You think I’m letting you go? I thought I’d found my purpose in killing, but—” He stopped. “It’s you. You and Emile. I love you two.”
I lay in silence, stroking my fingers along Emile’s jawline before surging up to drop a kiss there.
Confidence, affection, acceptance, all floated through the bond between us, communicating their love without words, and suddenly, I couldn’t hold the words in any longer.
“You’re mine,” I said. “Forever.”
And they were.
“Say it,” Conor growled, his fingers tightening blissfully in my hair. “Tell us.”
“I love you,” I murmured. “Both of you.”
And I did.