Page 48 of His Forsaken Alpha

He’s unavailable.

And just what would I do if hewasavailable?

He chuckled to himself.Nothing. I would do nothing. The omega is a jerk. A pompous jerk.

A pompous jerk who’s got my blood firing and my cock hard.

Cav lowered the newspaper and reached for Wynter’s copy of his book. As he brought it over, he could scent the omega even stronger on it. Lifting the book to his nose, he drew in the aroma. Vanilla and musk… he closed his eyes and growled, his cock twitching.

Yet there was another scent.

An alpha scent.

Without another thought, he reached for the pen in his satchel and opened the cover before scribbling a message inside. When he was done, he smiled to himself and closed the book before tossing it back on the opposite seat.

Rising, he stretched his arms and legs, demanding his body quiet down. There was no way he was getting twisted into knots by a mated omega, especially one that was going to be a huge thorn in his side for the rest of the night. He’d traveled the globe, seenthings most men dreamed of. It’s why they bought his books. Bound alphas lived vicariouslythroughhim.

Cav was unattached. An explorer. He’d just finished his newest manuscript and was in need of his next adventure, that was all. He sat back down and opened the newspaper again, searching for inspiration among the stories there. After re-reading the same paragraph five times, he growled and folded it briskly enough to rip some of the pages. He flung it toward his satchel and stared out at the passing countryside.

A countryside that he’d explored on one of his first treks outside Blacksburg. It had been the focus of his first book, detailing one of the most powerful No Man’s Land warlords on the East Coast. The alpha had had a harem of fifteen omegas, all of them soft and demure.

Accommodating.

The warlord had even offered one to him for a time, but Cav had respectfully declined, unsure if it had been a test of loyalty or not. It had been an easy choice. Cav typically sated his lust with betas. They seemed easier. Less complicated.

Nothing like the omega who was sharing his cabin.

Although, none of the omegas he’d ever met were as infuriating as Wynter Jaymes.

None had been as captivating either.

Fuck.

Cav rose and attempted to pace the length of the cabin car, but it was much too small and his legs too fucking long. He stepped out into the hallway to give them more room. Once up the hall and back down it, but that wasn’t enough, so he did another round.

And another.

Until his feet took him where he had no business going.

To find Wynter Jaymes.

Wynter sat aloneat one of the club car tables, drinking a glass of wine as No Man’s Land rapidly whizzed past. It was beautiful land, pristine and untouched for the most part—what was outside the large, razor wire topped fences protecting the train, of course. Every ten miles or so, they passed a small security shelter. The whole distance between one walled province to the next was highly secured to keep the Wildlings out.

The Wildlings—the nickname for all those who lived outside the walls, either by birth, choice, or exile—lived under a different set of rules than they did behind them in the provinces. Some said there were no rules at all. He’d heard the horror stories of omegas being abducted once they crossed into No Man’s Land. They’d be claimed by an untamed alpha, no better than an animal himself, or bought and sold on the auction block to be bred by another.

Somehow, that didn’t sound all that terrible given his situation.

Of course, it was.Wasn’t it?

With every mile put between him and his responsibilities to Warden, Wynter felt lighter. He could breathe easier. He hadn’t wanted to go to the spa—as it all seemed rather tacky. Allowing strange betas to assist him through a heat? Wasn’t it bad enough that the household betas and those at the facility had to witnesshim in his lowest, most beastly moments? Being vulnerable like that wasn’t stress-free, especially when they were strangers.

At least the staff was trained for that very thing. Perhaps that would make it easier.

As he watched the untamed wilderness pass, his mind drifted to another wild thing—Wilder Cavanaugh.

Wynter’s blood began to boil the minute the man’s smiling face came to mind. The man’shandsomesmiling face. All Wynter could think about was sinking both hands into the man’s thick hair and dragging him closer for a kiss.

On that vile mouth that had spat so many vile things.

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