Page 6 of Pack Owned
Fuck no.I pry my mouth open to scream, but only a wheezing sound comes out, and he laughs.
Another pair of hands clamp onto my other side. I squint, trying to make out the second man, but my vision is a mess of smeared lights and shadows.
Holy fuck. What’s happening to me?
A few people look my way with a frown, but the second man gives them some excuse of me having had too much to drink and needing fresh air. When the bartender steps around the bar like he’s going to intervene, the sleaze pushes something into his hand.
“Thanks for your concern, but she’s my sister. Aren’t you, Jilly?”
He pinches the back of my neck, making my head dip into a nod, and I moan.
“Gotta go unless you want her to hurl right here in front of everyone?”
The bartender waves us on, and I gasp out a cry. Why can’t I move or scream?
Both men haul me past the bar, through the dense throng of bodies, to an exit. Inside, I’m a hurricane of screams, but on the outside, I’m mute, my silent protests drowned out by the bar’s thunderous pulse.
“Time for some fun.” The second guy’s voice is gruff, scraping against my mind like a match against a strike pad. For a splitsecond, I’m paralyzed by the thought it’s him—my stepfather—but the hands flaunting rings aren’t his. He wouldn’t know luxury if it bit him in the ass. No, he’d sell any jewelry he got his grubby hands on for booze and drugs. It’s not Stepdouche.
That shard of relief is fleeting, snuffed out as we near a side door exit.
I dig my heels into the floor and try to stop from going any farther. They carry me outside anyway, and the cool night air is a slap to my face.
“You sure about this?” Mr. Rings questions. “What if she is a Beta?”
“Don’t be stupid,” sleazebag answers. “We’re just going to have a little fun, that’s all.”
A word claws its way up my throat, a single plea loaded with terror. “Please.”
“You see? She wants us to fuck her.” He chuckles. “All these Omegas are the same… thinking they’re precious jewels and not that they all just want an Alpha to spread their legs for.”
I want to shout that neither of these assholes are Alphas, but the world wobbles around me as I’m half-dragged, half-carried behind a dumpster. Fate’s a twisted bitch. Except I’m going to fight back. I don’t care if they beat me. I won’t give in. Never again. Submission is not a word written in my horoscope—not anymore.
With every shred of strength left in me, I buck against their grip. I will bite, scratch, and scream… anything. Surrender isn’t an option. Not now, not ever.
Despite the bravery in my mind, I’m shoved down on the pavement, and my stomach lurches as one of them unzips his pants. The sound has me shuddering all over. I whimper, fear paralyzing me. I said I would fight, yet I can’t even turn around. My eyes squeeze shut as whatever they must have slipped into my drink is still making my head swim.
Hands grope my legs, and I try to kick, but I’m facing the wrong way to do anything. Fat fingers yank down my underwear, ripping them off, and my body starts shaking. Not again. I sob, a scream catching on the tears in my throat.
“Thought you said she was willing,” ringed guy grumbles, and I’m so relieved he might have a conscience that I open my eyes and lift my head.
“Either help me fuck her or keep a lookout.”
“No,” he whispers, and bad chills race through me. “I’ve been watching her, hoping for a taste.” He jerks off his pants, his slimy cock on display, and I manage to turn over, the world spinning, and back away.
A third shadow falls over me and the two men, making my heart squeeze. I can’t fight them all off. I mean, I’ve held my own against Stepdouche and even gotten a bloody nose for it until he realized he had to hit me where Mom didn’t notice. Yet, I never stopped giving the asshole every ounce of pain I could. He healed fast from his bruises, and Mom was always worn out when she got home, so I doubt she saw much. But this new member is shaped like a linebacker. He has to be at least six four with carved muscles, but I can’t make out his face with the lack of streetlights out here.
“Lewdness is against the law, even for scum like you two.” His voice is a deep rumble that has my stomach doing crazy backflips. Or maybe that’s the drug in my system that’s making my body feel like it’s turning to liquid?
Then I inhale, and the most delicious scent of cedar and cinnamon crashes into me like a tsunami. It floods in warmth, is spicy, and is completely overwhelming. It hijacks my senses, like an addiction that I never knew I had—rich and intoxicating and way more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. His scent is pulling me, calling me, and dives deep inside me, stirringsomething primal. And my heart’s doing an insane sprint in my chest. My body screams Alpha, but seriously, what’s up with me?
Sure, I’ve bumped into Alphas before, and the club was crawling with them. Only their scents aren’t like this—theirs mingle with the crowd—but this is different. His scent carves a path straight to my core, setting off alarms and fireworks at the same time and turning my insides to jelly.
Why is his smell freaking me out, yet making me want to get closer at the same time?
I sneak a peek at him, trying to match this addictive scent with a face—dark hair looks like it would curl after a shower, muscles ripple with every move, and a chiseled jaw is making my knees weak. I’m so glad I’m not standing up, or I might fall.
It’s not just his gorgeous looks. He’s got this vibe about him that’s hard to ignore, as though he’s pulling me in without even trying, as though he’s a magnet I can’t pull away from.
