Page 20 of Your Wild Omega

My heart fills with gratitude. He doesn’t press me to talk, doesn’t act like he should get to know everything. His acceptance soothes me.

Rickon gently kisses my forehead, then lifts the collar. “What were you planning to do with this?”

I laugh dryly. “I just wanted to show Zack it wasn’t dangerous.”

My breath catches as he reaches up and wraps the collar around his own neck, fastening the clasp. “There. How do I look?” he asks brightly, striking an exaggerated pose with one hand behind his head.

I hesitate, waiting for my fears to rise, but they don’t. He’s simply a normal guy wearing an unusual accessory. The dark leather highlights his pale skin, and with his spiky bed hair, flushed cheeks, and parted lips, he looks like he might have just rolled out of a wild BDSM session.

I choke on the lump in my throat. “Super cute, actually. We might need a family set.”

He crooks one brow in doubt, and I chuckle.

Zack reaches out a hesitant finger to touch the leather band around Rickon’s neck, and my first alpha freezes to let him investigate.

“He’s soaking everything in,” Rickon breathes out. “Like a sponge.”

“I hope so,” I murmur, returning to organizing our supplies while Rickon holds Zack’s attention. Soon I have a line of treats out, ranging from jerky sticks to chocolate and candy, granola bars, and cake. I need something Rickon and I can carry with us all the time.

I push hair away from my face as I survey the items. Most of them are sugary. “Better schedule a dentist trip in the near future,” I muse.

“And brushing teeth to the things we need to teach him.” Rickon smiles, hiding his teeth as Zack leans in close and sniffs the leather collar.

“Right.” A pang shoots through my heart. Zack hasn’t had the chance to learn even the most basic life skills that people get taught as kids. I tug the big alpha into my arms and kiss his cheek.

Rickon grabs the shopping bags and my new alpha twitches at the crinkling noise, turning to stare. It’s hard to put into words, but the Bitches dragged me into a nest so many times, I couldn’t help but break down whenever my heat arrived. I’m guessing at Zack’s past, but the constant stress simmering through our bond reinforces my theory that all his experiences have been about fighting. He’s always assessing and looking for threats, and I need to reverse all that damage.

“You know, I’m not trying to treat him like an animal,” I tell Rickon, worrying some plastic packaging through my fingers.

The tall OCB officer polishing his boots near the front door straightens and raises one hand. “Hey. Not wanting to intrude, but do you mind if I chime in?”

I turn and boost myself up onto the edge of the table. “Sure. Sorry, I was a bit out of it when Callisto introduced you.”

He grins. “Not a problem at all. I’m Agent Josef Santino. Been in the OCB for eight years and seen a few things.” He clasps hishands behind his back, feet slightly apart. Even while he talks to me, he glances often at Zack, reminding us what his job is.

“And you’ve done this rehabilitation training thing Callisto’s signing up for?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Guilt flashes through me. I had experts here the entire time and didn’t think to consult them. I wave one hand. “This is all a bit weird ’cause you’ll be based here for the time being, but if you think there’s something that can help Zack, please tell us.”

“Thanks.” He smiles, and although he’s a serious-looking guy, the expression softens his face. “Our OCB training focuses on suppressing out-of-control alphas long enough for their thinking minds to replace instinctual behavior.” The agent crosses the room to lean against the back of the couch. “The rehabilitation coaching then focuses on creating a safe space for the traumatized alpha and putting support structures in place, so the hormones and all those instinctive responses don’t override conscious action again.” His mouth wrinkles wryly to one side. “But most alphas who need it are people who go through a traumatic event and lose their sanity momentarily.”

Agent Josef dips his chin toward Zack, who spins to face him front on, watching warily.

“It’s okay, Zack,” I soothe, squeezing his hand. “He won’t hurt you.”

The agent crosses his arms over his chest and continues. “Zack here, and the other alphas who’ve been through fight rings, spent years being conditioned to react the way the kennel bosses wanted.” He shrugs and spreads his hands slowly, watching Zack’s responses. “While we don’t know their exact methods, it’s safe to say they encouraged violent behavior.”

Judging by the scars streaked across Zack’s body, he’s right. I rub my forehead, feeling a headache coming on, and the agent gives me a lopsided smile.

“Bit heavy, huh? What I wanted you to know is it isn’t treating him like an animal to offer a reward for behaviors you want to encourage. It only feels that way because Zack doesn’t have much conscious action of his own under all that instinct, but you’re actually being respectful of his limitations during recovery.”

Rickon leans over the kitchen bench. “You mean, because this learning style is what he already knows?”

“Basically, yeah.” The agent nods. “Although, my guess is he’s had a punishment-based system in the kennels. Probably using cattle-prods and chains, since agents found those in the underground areas during the raid.” He falls silent, and the pain in his face reflects the ache in my heart.

Agent Josef brightens, shaking off whatever thoughts haunt him. “Anyway, it’s not how you’re going to treat him forever, but for now, it’s a bridge to connect him to other kinds of teaching. In the long term, our aim is to see him learn because he wants to. But in the meantime, positive conditioning so that he feels safe and learns appropriate behavior is part of the rehab training. You’re on the right track.” He gives us a double thumbs-up. “Does that make sense?”

---