Chapter 4 Silas #3
“Listen—” I start, but it’s like her omega can sense what’s going on inside my head. She pulses her energy into me. It’s soothing. It makes me fidget. I don’t want her comfort. Christ, I should be comforting her, not the other way around.
“Silas, I forgive you,” she says again. “But I also really need you, okay? I need—” She loses track of her words through another wave of pain.
“You don’t want me. Trust me. I’ll get you some place safe. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. But you don’t want me. This is just your heat talking.”
Strands of red hair cling to her pink, freckled cheeks. “I wish things were diff—ahhh,” she cries out, but it almost sounds like ecstasy. Perfume spills out of her, and I can practically taste her slick in the air.
My knot swells, pulsing, aching. New, exciting arousal courses through me.
I shouldn’t even be holding her.
I’m filthy. A fucking degenerate. Useless. All the things I’ve done, all the things I let them do to me…
I shouldn’t even be touching her like this. I pull away, but her omega cries. The sound is piercing, keening, emotional blackmail, clawing nails on a chalkboard.
I cradle her neck, and she quiets. So, I continue trying to comfort her, my body rigid with unease, while we wait.
“He’s my mate, isn’t he?” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut, breaking the silence.
I look in the direction Ghost disappeared. I don’t know what to say. “Do you feel like he is?” Because, in truth, only she knows if he’s her mate or not.
She nods, looking equal parts elated and terrified. “Please, Silas. I need you. I forgive you, I swear it. But I’m scared. I’m really scared, and Grayson and Orion trusted you, and I trust you, and I don’t want to be alone—ahhhh—” she curls into herself again.
Thankfully, I hear Ghost running through the trees, cutting off her pleas.
“I found a hunting cabin. Looks like it’s been a few months since anyone’s been there, and it’s off-season. Should be safe.”
He looks down at Mona. “Do you need me to—?” For someone who’s potentially her fated mate, he seems even more uncomfortable with her approaching heat than me.
I shake my head, slipping my arms beneath her small, squirming frame and lift her from the water.
I follow Ghost through the trees, and we reach the cabin quickly.
It’s tiny, a simple structure of weathered gray wood, propped up on cinderblocks.
There’s an outhouse around the back. A small clearing, with half a cord of wood messily stacked to one side.
I follow Ghost inside.
He flips on battery-operated lights. Mona shrieks, so he shuts them off. Then I nod to an oil lamp resting beside the windowsill, old boxes of matches piled beside it. While he lights it, I set Mona down on the bed.
The moment I set her down, she reaches out for me. Clawing, she yanks at my shirt. She’s even wilder now than she was five minutes ago. My shirt tears in her fingers, so I let her have it, like she’s un-spooling thread.
When Ghost pulls his shirt off, I snarl, “Couldn’t fucking wait for this, huh? An omega in heat?”
He ignores my outrage as she paws at the material. He hands it over, and she begins rearranging the shirts, frantically stuffing them, along with the thankfully clean-smelling flannel sheets and pillows, and pushes them into a mound. Ghost stands beside me to watch.
“Her omega’s nesting,” he explains, emotionless.
“Yeah? And what the fuck are we going to do when she wants more than our t-shirts?”
“She already wants more than our t-shirts.”
“You two can stop talking about me like I’m not even here,” Mona growls, words slurred.
She turns and stabs us with a look. Feral.
She looks fucking feral, but then goes back to her nest, rearranging, pushing and shoving materials, making it bigger, fluffier.
I don’t know what she’s doing, but she seems to be on a mission.
“What—” I start quietly, still confused. Lily didn’t do this part.
“She’s making a pile to drape her body over so she can present for her mates,” Ghost sighs. “And the scent of our clothes is soothing to her.”
“How do you know this?”
He shrugs. “There are books about omega behavior. I like to read. They’re unlike the other designations, I’ve always found them fascinating.” His interest sounds purely academic. But I can smell his want. His alpha is panting for his mate’s wet pussy just as bad as mine is.
His voice drops low, each syllable like gravel in his throat. “You need to take care of this.”
I shake my head. “I can’t—”
“Alpha! I need you!” Mona wails, reaching for me.
She’s done rearranging her nest, though it looks the same to me as it did when she started.
When I don’t move closer, her fingers yank the hem of her shirt, and she begins stripping off her clothes, almost tearing at them, like the material offends her.
They’re still damp from the water, and aren’t coming off easily.
The wildness of it all reminds me of Lily. How mindless her heats were, how out of control. Mona rips off her bra, pants next. It’s frantic, all her movements choppy, she’s literally shaking with need.
Her body is extraordinary. A little belly that looks soft enough to squeeze.
Round tits that bounce when she rips off the last of her clothes.
Despite the heat, her nipples are pointed, hard and rosy.
There’s slick on her thighs, and I swallow when she spreads her knees, her perfect pussy, so inviting, open, warm and wet, ready for me. Pink and glistening.
I shouldn’t be looking.
I can’t look away.
My cock is painfully hard, weeping with pre-cum.
Take her. She wants it. My alpha urges me to just give in. It’s making my head hazy. My guard begins to lower, and for a brief moment, I consider doing it. Sinking inside her, losing myself in my mate.
But then, ghostly fingers wrap around my erection, forcing me to submit, and I’m back there—cold cement against my knees, the taste of copper in my mouth, the sounds of laughter around me as the witches take my body—
“You have to help her.” I swallow, taking a sharp step back.
Ghost shakes his head, jaw tight. “I’ve no intention of taking a mate and if I fuck her, that’s exactly what will happen.
” A deep, primal growl escapes his throat—his alpha fighting against his decision.
But it doesn’t matter. The man is a stone wall.
Resolute. He can’t hide his pheromones, though, not now that he’s lowered his shield.
Sharp musk fills the air, both of our scents collide, heightened by arousal.
But neither of us move toward her, or offer any kind of relief.
He growls, then suddenly his shield goes up, and his scent disappears completely.
Mona shrieks, like the action caused her pain. “No! Nooo, no, no! Back, Alpha, come back!” she cries.
I’m about to lay into him for causing her even more hurt, but I’m no better than he is.
And so, we two fucked-up alphas stand frozen in place—paralyzed by our demons, the punishment being forced to witness our mate thrashing in agony, alone on the bed of a stranger’s cabin in the middle of the woods.
Her cries pierce the air, in pleasure and pain, waves of need running through her like a current.
Her body betrays her, and it’s fucking killing me.
My alpha claws at my insides, howling, begging, threatening to take control if I don’t step in and help her.
She clutches desperately at the sheets, knuckles straining, spine arching, then her fingers come to her pussy. She rubs frantically. Deliriously.
Take her, take her, take her. She wants it. She needs it. My cock throbs, the pre-cum now soaking through my boxers as my alpha smashes against my chest, begging to be let out. My skin ripples with fur. I’m losing control.
“Please, Alpha! Please!” she shrieks, voice cracking, not understanding why we don’t move, each word another stab of guilt and torment. Her heat is in force now, pupils blown wide, her omega in full control. “Knot! Alpha, knot!”
She doesn’t understand. What she’s begging for is the very monster I’m trying to protect her from.
“Why? Alpha, please! I need you!”
Tears stream down her cheeks while she rubs herself and sobs, and I hate myself more every second.