Page 68 of Crave

I frowned. “What kind of fucked up question is that?” I looked at Bowie and sighed. Fuck. “The cubs. Susannah would flay me alive if I chose her over saving the cubs.”

Merrick nodded. “Last question. You have a chance to give a body to Bowie forever. One that’s impervious to disease or injury, basically like a Manix. But you have to torture one of our Omegas to get it. They wouldn’t die, but it would be painful. In the end, Bowie gets a body and the Omegas heal. What do you choose?”

Fuck these guys.

But Bowie didn’t hesitate. “I would never hurt the Omegas for my own benefit. Never. I’d rather be a ghost forever, unseen by anyone but Jericho, than hurt anyone in our Pack.”

Murphy grinned. “Welcome to Pack Merrick-Murphy. We’re going to have to start going by our given names,” he said to Merrick, screwing up his nose.

“August and Owen?”

Merrick shuddered. “Let’s take our Omegas’ surnames. If we’re going to say fuck you to tradition, we may as well say fuck you in the biggest way possible. The Calathean-Jack Pack.” He looked me dead in the eye. “If the Omegas accept you, we will too. But everything we do is for them, so if their decision even so much as wavers, our answer changes. Got it?”

Bowie was nodding, but only I could see it, so I echoed his agreement. “We agree.”

Murphy walked over and slapped my arm. “Welcome to the Pack, man. Now, Bowie, go and make our Omega feel better by any means necessary.”

Bowie’s face flushed, and he popped out of the yard, the suck of the magic keeping him here going with him.

Merrick looked around. “He’s gone?”

I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, he doesn’t mess around. I studied the lumber lying around. “Uh, so what are you guys making?”

“A sex swing.”

40

BOWIE

Ididn’t really disappear the way you’d think. Really, I just moved super quickly. Before, I couldn’t move away from Jericho. Not far, anyway. Now, I could move between those talisman stones at the speed of lightning. The only person who would be able to see me is Tanner—you know, if I had a body to see.

I appeared back in the cell, and Susannah lifted her head. “Bowie?”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, kissing her forehead. She had tears on her cheeks, making me feel like shit for leaving her. “Yeah, baby. I’m here. I’m sorry for leaving you.”

She rubbed her tears away with angry hands. “I’m sorry for being such a wimp. I’m stronger than this normally. Damn Omega hormones.”

I stroked my fingers through her hair, which was growing lank and unwashed. “I know you are, sweetheart. But everyone’s entitled to their weakness, especially you. Especially right now.” I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight to my body, uncaring how it would look to anyone outside these walls. I kissed her cheeks and the tear tracks that marred them with lines. I entwined her fingers with mine, and did my best to encapsulate her whole body with my own.

When I kissed the hollow behind her ear, she moaned softly. “Bowie,” she breathed, and this was it. My moment. A way I could make her feel better.

“Would you like me to soothe you, Omega? Do you want me to help you find a little bit of pleasure in this shitty situation?” I stroked my hands down her sides, resting my palms on her ribcage, just below her breasts. My thumbs brushed the undersides, but I wouldn’t go any further, not unless she said so.

She didn’t say the words, but she put her hands over mine and lifted them up, until they cupped her breasts. I held in the groan that wanted to push past my lips, instead brushing my thumbs over her nipples.

“Climb under the blankets, baby. Burrow down into this nest and let me make you feel good?” I don’t know why I phrased it as a question, but I was out of my depth here. I was going on instinct.

Susannah let out a shuddering sigh, but she did it. She actually did it. She piled all the blankets on top of her until she was huddled under three or four feather comforters. She was probably going to cook, but hopefully if anyone walked in, this would be enough to hide us from prying eyes.

She was in a pair of tights—the Alpha General’s Omega had brought her some clothes—and I peeled them down her thighs. Pushing my shoulders between them, I wish I could breathe her in. Instead, I bit down on the fleshy part of her thighs with a sigh. I wanted to live here forever. I mean, it wasn’t like I needed to breathe?

When my tongue slid up her slit, she squirmed and moaned. “Shh, baby. You have to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone coming back here to check on you.”

She picked up a fluffy pillow and covered her face with it, and I took that as my cue to try and make her scream. Pouring my energy into my tongue, I stroked it up and down her slit, flicking repeatedly over her clit in a gentle stroke, finding a rhythm that seemed to make her mewl. Squeezing her thigh, I moved my hand up until I was stroking my incorporeal fingers through her folds. Fuck, this felt so amazing. It was the ghost of a sensation—ha, get it?—but it was more than I’d ever felt in my life. I slid one finger inside her, then two.

“More, Bowie,” she breathed, grinding against my face, so I added another finger. Her pussy seemed to suck it in, fluttering around it, stretching to accommodate the new width. It was fucking magic.

Her slick ran down my hand, dripping onto the bed. I curled my fingers, and she gripped my head. I was kind of glad she couldn’t see me at that moment, because I was smiling so wide that I must’ve looked like a fool.

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