Page 11 of Hangman's Knot
Chapter Four
Julius
???
When Julius wakes up to the smug face and contented purr of Tenor tucked into the tiny little nest the omega has made for the two of them in Luke's bunk, he cannot help the stab of jealousy he feels.
He had both heard the pitiful cries and whines of the omega last night, apparently caught in the grip of a nightmare. But it was Tenor who had jumped from his bunk and comforted the girl. And now it was Tenor who got the omega snuggles.
"Best morning I've ever had in my life," Tenor says lowly enough so he doesn't wake her, smugness radiating off him in sticky waves.
Julius snarls low in his throat but doesn't respond as he climbs out of his own bunk, stretching out his long form after being stuffed into his own too-small bunk all night. He cracks his back with a satisfying noise and doesn't dignify his little shit of a pack mate with a response.
"I'll be back. Don't take her to breakfast without me. We don't want any trouble from all the other assholes in here," he seethes as he stalks off to the showers. "Word's probably already spread."
He ignores the innuendo and offers of the other men in the communal showers as he quickly scrubs himself with what was undoubtably the cheapest scent dampening soap the prison could buy. It was supposed to restrain the aggressive alpha pheromones, but it barely even touched them.
He washes around his cock, which had been hard and throbbing since the minute he had caught a whiff of his new roommate and didn't seem likely to deflate anytime soon. Fucking omegas and their fucking perfumes. He couldn't even tell what her scent was beneath the blockers she must be using, he just knew it was sweet. Mouthwatering. Ripe and fertile.
When he gets back to the cell, the girl is awake and Tenor is talking to her in soothing tones like he's trying to coax a baby deer to eat popcorn from his hand. "You'll be fine, we'll both be there. No one will touch you."
Julius rolls his eyes but can't help but feel slightly impressed. In less than twelve hours, the tiny omega already managed to have two thirds of his pack fully pussy whipped, and she hadn't even spread her legs for them.
As her scent fills his nose again, he knows it wouldn't be long before she has all three of them under her spell. Fucking omegas.
Watching her dismantle her nest so that he and Tenor can remake the beds to pass morning inspection is oddly painful. Her movements are oddly stiff and mechanical again like they were last night when she was in shock and he can smell the distress rolling off her.
As she hands them each of the blankets and sheets,something inside him aches with howwrongit is. How unnatural. As if he had been the one in the nest with her that morning, as if she were already his and he was watching her dismantletheirnest.
They escort her to the mess hall, where she immediately sticksout like a sore thumb from the rest of the prisoners. As if she didn't already draw enough attention for her fat ass, pretty face, and tits, that fucking traffic cone orange jumpsuit guaranteed she'd be targeted as fresh meat.
He would have put her in one of the beige ones assigned to himself or Tenor, but they were even bigger than what she had on now, which already looked like it was going to swallow her petite form whole.
But damn... that idea was goddamn appetizing. The thought of her in their clothes, smelling like them... fuck. She was already under his skin. He had to think about something else, he snarled in his head. They couldn't afford to go soft, not in this place. Not when they never knew when they would need to defend her.
Her body seems to shrink into Tenor's side as they walk through the hall. An eerie silence falls over them as all the conversation dies in the room, the men turning to stare at her with filthy hunger obvious in their eyes.
Julius knew he was emitting aggressive pheromones, a warning to everyone around them that she was off limits. He could feel every molecule in his body screamingthis is mine, don't touch itin a way that caused the alphas closest to them bristle and turn away. He might as well have taken his cock out and pissed on her. But neither Tenor nor the omega were complaining. It was probably the only thing that kept them from being hassled on the way to the breakfast lineup.
He presses a tray into her hands and leads them through the line with Tenor pulling up the rear, the omega pressed between them so close he doubted anyone would have been able to even see her amidst their bulk.
He scowls down at the culinary offerings of the day. Omegas needed careful diets. Lots of fibre, not a lot of fat, and small amounts of protein. The best source for that was their alpha'scum, but that thought was almost laughable. He highly doubted the omega would be asking them for that anytime soon, if the rotten fruit stink of her fear was anything to go by.
As they carry their trays to the table, he eyes the slop in front of him with disdain. The greasy, processed, margarine-overloaded food was bad enough for them, but they were alphas, and their constitutions were naturally tougher and more resilient.
The prison fare would hardly do anything to nourish an omega like her. Probably poison her, more like. He could give her their potatoes, even though they were undoubtably from powder. Maybe they could buy her some cans of beans in the commissary later too.
Fucking Luke, always getting him tied up in problems he didn't need. Too late to belly ache about it now though, she was his problem, and he would take care of it.
"Don't eat that," he says when he sees her eying the food with distaste.
"Here." He starts dividing up their plates, taking some of her food in front of him and depositing the potatoes and fruit cups from his and Tenor's plates onto hers. "We'll get you some other stuff later."
When Tenor sees her still looking at the food with disgust he offers up an unhelpful, "You'll get used to it... eventually."
He eats the food mechanically without even tasting it, ruminating over her upcoming work assignment. They'd have to bribe one of the admins to place her with one of them. Wouldn't be the first time they had to grease some palms in this place. He looks at Tenor and he seems to be thinking along the same lines. He grunts. "You or me?"
Julius' job assignment was in the workshop doing metalwork maintenance. Tenor, smarmy bastard that he was, had aMaster of Arts in English Literature he had done secretly by correspondence while they had been on ground leave, and now worked as a teacher in the GED classroom. Probably wasn't smart to have her around more of the prisoners than they had to.
