Page 7 of Bullied Forced Omega
“Fine, let me know the arrangements. In the meantime, Miles and I are starving. Can you have the kitchen prepare us a meal?” I ask.
Jeremy nods.
Lucas gestures towards one of the Omegas standing nearby. “Melinda, have whoever is on kitchen duty prepare twoof the biggest steaks available in the fridge. And roast potatoes and…”
“No, don’t worry about roasting them. It will take too long. We want to eat now,” I groan. My stomach can’t wait for the time it will take to get those damn potatoes crispy. I knew we should have called ahead to let them know we were on the way, but I was also hoping to make less commotion upon our arrival. If we’d warned the elders, I could bet a hundred bucks they’d have laid out a red carpet and had seven Omegas dressed as cheerleaders to welcome us home. No thanks. Not interested. I want to eat and crash into my bed to sleep for a solid night. I haven’t slept a full night through since I joined Black Ops. Every night, there was a drill or an attack on rogues. Every night, something pulled us from rest to push us harder.
Melinda grins at me, her eyes glittering with hope. A pretty girl. I’m sure all of the Omegas are going to be tripping over their little feet to impress me. Each dreaming that they are destined to be the Luna of this pack.
I feel nothing toward her, and my smile is more of a grimace than anything else.
The right time will come for me to claim my fated mate. Now is not that time. I have too much to do. Too much to focus on.
Priority…eat.
Sleep.
Start taking control of my pack.
***
I wake before dawn, instantly alert and confused by the array of unfamiliar scents. I don’t smell gunpowder or the gruelthe chef would make us for breakfast. I don’t smell the sweat of the other Alphas who got up early and hit the gym. I don’t smell the red dust that became part of my skin, hair, and clothes at Black Ops.
I smell dew. Fresh earth. Green grass. From somewhere outside, I hear the first birds waking up, talking to each other.
I smell the clouds, about to break open with a soft, misty rain. Nothing too heavy, just a refresh before the day begins.
And I smell warmth. Sunrise. It’s close.
The hairs on my arm stand just before I hear the soft knock at my door.
It gets pushed open before I answer, and Miles walks in.
He chuckles.
“I knew you’d be awake. It’s weird, isn’t it? How fresh and green it is out here.” He walks to the side of my bed and, in the darkness, places a tray of food on my bedside table. I sit up with a huff. “I slept like the dead, though. It was incredible,” I smirk, picking up the tray and pulling it onto my lap. In true Miles style, he hasn’t bothered with the fanciful touch of toast or egg or jam and butter. The plate is piled high with crispy bacon. Nothing else.
I laugh again. “Breakfast fit for a king,” I say happily, spearing the bacon and shoving it into my mouth.
“Oh my word, that’s fucking incredible,” I mumble with my mouth full of food.
“Beats gruel,” he snorts, amused.
I hold the plate out to offer him some, and he shakes his head. “Nah, man. I ate about three pounds of the stuff while I was making yours.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you did,” I snort.
“I’m going for a run, wanted to know if you were keen to join?” he asks, pulling my curtains open to look out into the still dark meadows around the estate.
“Mudder is itching to get into those trees and explore,” Miles says, speaking of his wolf. Mudder earned his name because from the first time Miles shifted, his wolf had this uncontrollable urge to roll in the dirt. Wet sand, dry sand, swampy waters, rivers… he just wanted to roll, and no matter how hard any of us tried, we couldn’t hold back the laughter when seeing the absolute glee on Mudder’s face every time he broke free of Miles' control and got to coat himself in raw nature.
Even funnier, though, was the first time Miles shifted back to human form, coated head to toe in slick brown mud from the edge of the riverbed.
Man, we laughed for days.
“Jux is keen too. It will be nice to stretch our legs without adhering to a strict route,” I agree. It takes me three minutes to finish the entire plate of bacon. Then I’m out of bed and stripping my sweatpants off.
Nudity is barely a second through when you’re a shifter.
