Page 81 of Your Wild Omega

My head flops back onto the wood shavings. Fucking hell, that was a close call.

“Mine. Okay?” Zack asks.

I wrap my arm around his head and hold it to my chest in answer. How do I even defineokayin a situation like this? My raging alpha whuffles, sniffing my clothes. His tongue slides under my collar, questing for my bond mark. Maybe it’s more comforting to him than me, or maybe he enjoys the secondhand pleasure. The touch chases away my icy terror, replacing it with a radiating warmth, even though my heart still beats frantically.

We exist on a knife’s edge every day, courting disaster. Maybe life never gets simpler, and I’ll always need my Red Hawk wits on full alert.

A familiar voice booms through the momentary hush. “I don’t think that alpha should be on set.” Bradley Jacks, first-class fucking asshole.

The anger fizzling through my body wants me to march over there and choke him. Zack growls in response to my anger, lifting his head to scan for the threat.

“He’s dangerous,” Brad adds.

I clutch Zack tighter against my chest. Zack’s not the one who is dangerous—I am.

“Leave it be, Brad,” Sebastien shoots back. “It didn’t affect you.”

“This isn’t the only kissing scene,” the other actor declares, voice rising to a whine.

Handsome, egotistical Brad has been touchy-feely in every shoot we’ve had together. The script may explain it, but unlike Sebastien, he keeps touching even after the director calls “cut.” Piece of shit.

Zack suckles on my bond mark, startling a gasp out of me. Fire spreads through my body, burning a path straight to my pussy, and everything else drops out of my brain.

“Ask,” he murmurs over the mark, breath scorching.

I groan. Do I reward him for obeying, or punish him for rushing in to attack Sebastien? I don’t know what’s right and I’m no expert at human psychology and development. Plus, I’m worn out after such a hectic Spring Film Festival weekend. Or maybe after such a hectic life, never mind a blip on the radar like the gala. All I can rely on is my omega instinct, and everyone knows that’s treacherous as fuck. Especially for me.

No movie covers training feral alphas—I’m just making it up as I go. Maybe I should write a script:How to Train Your Feral. Might be an Ommy-award-winning film.

You’re doing a good job. Tell yourself that every day.The frazzled-looking shrink’s statement seeps through my chaotic thoughts, and a snort of amusement escapes me. I know she didn’t say those words thinking everything I do is perfect. It’s so I don’t beat myself up daily; so I don’t cripple myself with negative mind talk. And it helps.

“This isn’t a zoo,” Director Yun calls, breaking through my daydream. “We have a movie to film, in case everyone forgot.”

Fuck that. I need my alpha more than I need to be an actress right now. Which says a lot, since acting is all I’ve ever wanted to do. How about we just celebrate the fact we’re alive right now? If I’ve done a good job so far, I should continue to follow my instincts.

“Yes,” I whisper into Zack’s hair in response to hisasking, clinging to his packed shoulders and wrapping one leg around his hip.

I’m a bad omega, using my alpha to delay a scolding from my boss. But I don’t care. I just want to float for a moment in a world where nothing else exists. Then I’ll be able to face reality. And more than anything, I need to reward my alpha for coming when I called.

Rickon, sprawled in the stable bed beside me, catches my eye and grins. My worries evaporate as he takes my hand. “We’ll just need a moment to calm him down,” he calls to the crowd beyond the door.

Zack makes quick work of getting my pants rolled down past my hips and plunges his thick cock right in, sucking on my bond mark as he does. I arch into him, clamping my teeth together around a fierce moan. My wildling alpha balances on one forearm and holds my hip with the other as he slams himself into me over and over, burning through his adrenaline with short, quick thrusts.

Fuck, it’s good. It’s good to let go. A moan escapes me. My alpha needs to know I’m his, always. And fuck what everyone outside the stall thinks. I cling to Zack’s neck and roll my hips, trying to match his pace. It’s messy, frantic, and powerful. Like two nymphs who might be separated at any second, never to see each other again, going at it with all they’re worth.

That won’t happen to us, though, I’ll make sure we stay together.

Rickon covers my mouth as the orgasm explodes, and I suck on his fingers like they’re that other part of him, swallowing down my whimpers. He pants, forehead wrinkled in concentration, as he watches me.

Zack’s grip tightens, digging into my hip. He grunts, thrusting deep, and the edge of his knot swells against my opening. “Shit.Grab hold of his knot, Rickon,” I whisper. I wanted a quick stress relief, not a two-hour bonding session.

Rickon chuckles and reaches down to grip the alpha’s cock base, and Zack responds with a sexy growl and another determined thrust. His stomach bunches and he arches, muscles tightening as he finds his release.

“He’s so fucking thick,” Rickon murmurs against the alpha’s bicep. “Must feel so good in your sweet pussy.”

“Mm-hmm,” I whisper back, certain I can’t form a more intelligent response. All the tension drains away, leaving me doughy and calm.

Zack slumps over me, breathing hard. As his cock softens, I hold him and stroke his back, bathing myself in a mist of sweat, charred barley scent, and his trickling cum. A rush of affection wells up inside me, and I can’t hold it in any longer. Finally I find the words I’ve been trying to say for months.

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