Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Julian
Maddox peels up, hitting a sudden stop near the woman who is now face down in the dirt. She’s probably not a threat.
Just a lost tourist or something.
I see Eli kill his camera as Gael heads straight for the woman.
“Eh, you alright?” he asks thickly.
His accent is stronger when he’s worried or mad. It’s in full form right now.
When he gets about six feet from her, he freezes. I climb out, tucking my phone away.
“What’s wrong?” I call to him, as Eli and I step towards them.
Maddox is prowling, his huge form taking a loop around her SUV. I come to a complete halt when her scent hits me.
Deep, rich, fruity, and dark. I inhale again.
Oh fuck.
“Mads!” I yell in warning as I run to her, dropping to my knees. I roll her gently, her brown curls askew, her thick lashes resting on her cheeks. Her lips part as I study her face.
“What?” Mads asks, emerging on the far side. But at that moment, her scent must hit him, for he groans.
We were blind-sided.
I can hear Eli pacing along the edge of the forest.
“An omega?” Maddox grits out. He kneels next to me.
“I don't recognize her,” I say, looking at Maddox.
His shaggy black hair has fallen forward as he stares at her. His huge arm reaches out, and he puts a finger under her nose.
“I don’t either; she’s certainly not from Elmway. She’s breathing steady,” he rumbles softly. His hand curves gently over her forehead. “Shit. She’s burning up.”
He scoops her up, standing easily. “You drive,” he directs.
I nod as I tell Gael, “Grab her purse, hopefully she has her pack card on her.”
I hop into the driver’s seat as Mads climbs into the back, the passed-out omega on his lap.
As I haul ass to the house, the walkie talkie flicks on. “Bad news,” comes Eli’s voice, “No card. Her emergency contact is a sister, no emergency alpha listed.”
“What the fuck,” growls Maddox angrily.
Silence for a moment. “No pack tat either. Fuck.”
“Her name is Adira Rook, age thirty-six, lives in Monroe,” Eli adds.
“There’s no licensed packs in Monroe,” Mads argues. “A solo omega?”
I take the last curve in the trail, and our pack house emerges from the woods. I park right next to the front door, the other quad tearing to a halt beside us.
Eli runs up, opening the door just as Maddox carries the omega inside. We all trail after him. He heads to the library, the closest area with somewhere soft.
Mads lays her down gently on the couch and drops to his knees beside her. He adjusts his cock.
I feel the same; she smells good enough to eat.
Running into an omega about to hit their heat, not expecting it, and them not having a clear mark of ownership?
Yup, we’re all hard as fuck. It doesn’t help that aside from the normal ‘breed me’ pheromones an omega—especially one not on blockers—near a heat, is kicking out, she smells personally incredible.
“Go grab the emergency omega kit,” Gael says to Eli, who is hovering near the doorway.
I shake my head, “How close is she? The nearest heat clinic is in NorCal.”
“It’s too far,” Mads says, voice colored with anger. “I knew we needed to push for a local one. With the increase in population…”
He trails off as he gently pushes her hair back from her face. She groans, rolling onto her side. I drop to my knees next to Maddox, ready to help catch her, but she doesn’t fall.
My analytical side is running. “Okay,” I say to myself, digging out my phone. “We have omega supplies for an emergency heat in the kit.”
It was a decree put out two years ago by the Council. All alphas or packs without an omega are required to keep a kit, and to give aid in an emergency.
Of course, alphas had been helping in such a manner since the beginning of time, but the keeping of the kit was a new thing. Best practices. Allows omegas to live a life with more freedom. Between that, the newest suppressants, and heat clinics, they are able to live without a pack, if they choose.
Her eyes flutter open, but her gaze is distant. Her deep green eyes are striking under her dark brows. Suddenly, she whimpers and pulls her knees to her chest.
“Oh, baby girl,” Mads says softly, again, touching her hair.
Mads is intimidating. A heavy-lifter, he’s broad and ripped everywhere. He was huge even back in college. But he’s a big softie on the inside. He loves to take care of us, his pack, even though we’re all alphas. He’d spoil the shit out of an omega, were we ever to take one.
“Electrolytes, finger foods, lots of soft carbs for her, and some protein drinks for us,” Gael lists off, staring at his phone.
“Good call,” I offer, as I let a hand land on his thigh where he now kneels next to us.
An Irishman, he shifts into the most gorgeous red wolf you’ve ever seen.
Playful in bed, quiet around people he doesn’t know, Gael, oddly, brings in most of the money nowadays.
He has a very successful online shop making hand-thrown coffee mugs and slip-cast planters.
Luckily, if he ever wanted to scale back, he could, given the investments we have.
Plus, the compound is owned free and clear, and we keep a mini-solar farm on the south end of the land, so our energy cost is nil.
“Send Eli,” Maddox mutters, “He’s unsettled.”
“Aye,” Gael murmurs, accent thick again.
Mads turns away from the still-sleeping omega and studies Gael’s face. “Do you need a breather too?”
His red head shakes firmly. “Not leaving her.” He takes a shaky breath. “Let’s get her to the omega suite.”