Page 16 of Your Wild Omega

I glance up at White Mine. Was he not warning me? Slowly I reach out, pushing my thumb between his lips to touch his teeth, tensed to pull back the instant he shows signs of attacking. He opens his mouth, baring his jaw to me. I could rip it loose from his face if I dug my fingers inside like this and pulled hard enough. He doesn’t move.

Submitting? Or so fearless this doesn’t bother him? I can’t tell.

A hot, heavy pulse runs from my hand through my body and down to the part of me that swells ever since I found Mine. I shiver.

I rock forward, still running my thumb across his teeth. He could snap them shut and take my finger, but he kneels there, as motionless as the walls.

“Rickon?” Mine breathes out, pulling herself up against the padded block.

His mouth moves and I snatch my hand out in case he intends to bite. “I’m fine. He’s just learning.” His green eyes lock on me, intense but unthreatening, as he picks up my hand and rests it against his teeth. Inviting me to try again.

A soft sensation flutters in my belly as I press inside, feeling the hard surfaces and, deeper within, the soft, wet chewing muscle. He whimpers faintly and it vibrates through my fingers, the sounds sending heat bursting through my body. Mine makes those noises when we’re joined together. The organ between my legs thickens with interest.

I look from Mine to White Mine, puzzled at my body’s reactions. “Mine?” I ask.

White Mine pulls back enough to make sounds through his lips, and then touches my arm. “Alpha.” He moves his hand to Mine. “Omega.” I track his hand as he touches his own chest. “Alpha.” Then he puts all three of our hands together. “Pack.”

That’s a sound I know, but it doesn’t seem to suit this situation. I glance around. I had a pack. We fought together against a common enemy, before we got separated. Does White Mine plan to fight with me against challengers? I’m sure there are many who want this beautiful female. I spin toward the doorway where the other alpha lurks silently, but White Mine touches my face, turning me back until our eyes meet.

Not fighting. Something else, then.

Mine strokes the pale alpha’s jaw, a hazy look in her eye I don’t understand, but the fiery feeling in my chest expands, like I won’t be able to contain it for long. “Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you, Rickon?” she murmurs. “You’re amazing with him.”

White mine snarls silently at her, but quickly smooths it away as he glances at me. Not a snarl.

“Mine,” I whisper, contorting to reach my female’s mouth. She’s got that same curve on her lips as I press my mouth to hers and taste her breath. “Ohm.”

She cries out loudly, her hands coming around me to hug me tight, and that hot sensation inside my chest explodes. “Yes, om, omega. Well done!”

If her mouth does this but she’s happy . . . I straighten and look at the pale alpha. “Mine.” I lean forward and press my mouth to his.

Chapter six

Rickon

Red gasps as Zack kisses me, and for a moment I forget to breathe as his lips quest roughly across mine. Each move I make around him must be so careful because he interprets everything as a threat—even a simple smile. And yet here he is, mouth pressed to mine, toying with my lips and supping my breath. Tasting me.

“Shit!” Red hisses under her breath. “No, Zack.”

I reach out and press my thumb to her mouth to silence her, not wanting to startle the alpha. Or break the kiss.

Zack’s rough and intense—not surprising when Red’s likely the first person he’s ever kissed. He pushes into me, deepening the kiss, and when the pressure pushes me off balance, his hand shoots out to grasp the back of my neck.

The thrill of danger trickles down my spine. This feral alpha could snap my spine in a heartbeat; instead he’s learning words and trying to make sense of the world. Trying to make sense of me. Tears mist my vision.

I have a pack. It might be the strangest, wildest pack in existence, but it’s mine.

This close, the new alpha’s maple syrup on pancakes scent fills my nose, accompanied with a lot of sweat after a day in the back of a truck making love to our omega. He’s not Callisto, and yet I find his scent more pleasant than any other male I’ve encountered besides my best friend. Is this the effect of scent-matched mates at work again?

I don’t even mind that he’s unknowingly scent marking me with his fingers against my cheek as he kisses me—or maybe it’s a deliberate sign of dominance. I may need to study some alpha psychology after today.

The stubble on his jaw scratches my nose. Gently, I run my fingers through his hair, finding it coarse and dusty. He doesn’t appear very healthy, his skin a sallow yellow, and my thumbprints catch on traces of scabbing around his temples. Despite his two-hour nap, dark marks shadow his eyes, and he’s twitchy from living on constant high alert.

From what I learned about feral alphas on the drive home with Leroy, Zack spent most of his life in small cells, coming out only for short exercise sessions and to fight for his life. And he brought that chaos with him to Alpha Lodgings, attacking guards and prisoners alike, and breaking bones.

He needs us to teach him what a pack is. What love is.

I swipe my tongue through his lips, forcing them apart. Zack freezes but doesn’t withdraw. I massage my hand across his bare chest in slow movements, rocking a little on my knees to balance on the bed. We both shiver as I lick my tongue inside his mouth, me from fear he might bite it off, and him from surprise.

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