Page 101 of Feral Omega

Thirty-Eight

IVY

Ihurry up the stairs to the master suite, my heart pounding. Did I really just invite all four of those alphas to mate with me?

The heat must be frying my brain.

But the thought of being claimed and satisfied by their powerful bodies makes a fresh wave of bizarre desire I'm not used to at all crash over me. My thighs clench and quiver even as I make my way into the master suite. I need this, no matter how insane it might seem.

The bedroom is lavish, with plush rugs covering the hardwood floors and a massive bed piled high with pillows and blankets. Thane and the others must have gathered all these nesting materials for me in preparation while I was making my decision.

I bite my lip, suddenly feeling shy and uncertain. Back at the Refinement Center, the Nightingales would force me to attend nesting classes designed to turn me into a proper little breeder omega. At least, back when they thought there was still "hope" for me.

But I always defied them and refused to pay attention. I never imagined I'd actually want to make a nest, let alone with the intention of willingly mating with not one, not two, but four alphas.

Still, the instincts are there, buried deep. I run my fingers over the silken throws and faux fur blankets, picturing how soft and comfortable they'll feel against my feverish skin. For once, I decide to let myself give in to the urge, knowing this is all temporary. A fleeting moment of exciting comfort.

Piling the plushest materials in the middle of the bed, I fashion a cozy depression to cradle my body, large enough for them to fit in as well. Pillows go around the edges to create a border, and I arrange the more decorative pieces around the outside in alternating colors. It's not as elaborate as some of the other nests I've seen, but it should do.

Stepping back, I survey my work with a critical eye. It looks… decent, I guess. At least it's better than that sad little pile of scratchy wool I made back at the compound. I just hope it's enough to please the alphas when they come for me.

Fresh heat flushes my cheeks at the thought. Four powerful male alphas all vying to rut me into oblivion and slake this maddening ache between my thighs. The idea should terrify and repulse me, but my body only grows hotter, wetter at the mere thought.

Mere hours ago, I was running from them. And I'm still planning on doing it again, eventually, when the opportunity presents itself. But I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that wants this for more than just practical reasons.

More than just to sate the aching, relentless need of heat.

Maybe if I give in, just this once, I can purge this weakness from my mind and body. This dangerous impulse to give more than just my body to these alphas who seem so intent on proving they're nothing like the other alphas who've used and abused me for most of my life.

Most frightening of all, there's a part of me that's actually starting to believe them. Part of me that wants to.

With a steadying breath, I call out, "I'm ready!"

There's a beat of silence, then the sound of thunderous footsteps pounding up the stairs. Thane and Whiskey burst into the room without wasting a single moment, both gloriously shirtless and rippling with muscle.

Whiskey lets out a low whistle, raking his eyes over my makeshift nest with unabashed appreciation. "Well, well. Looks like our girl's got some nesting instincts after all."

"Indeed," Thane rumbles, moving to circle the bed with a predatory grace. His obsidian eyes blaze as he drinks in every detail, missing nothing.

I swallow hard, fighting a sudden flare of nerves as they scrutinize my work. What if it's not good enough? What if I've failed this simple task?

"I like it," Thane murmurs, something warm flickering in those pitch black depths as he meets my stare, as if in response to my unspoken doubts.

Relief washes over me in a dizzying wave. "Thank you," I mumble, heat flooding my cheeks.

An awkward silence descends, thick with tension and unspoken need. I shift my weight from foot to foot, not sure what to do next. Should I disrobe? Lie back and spread my thighs in blatant invitation like they taught us at the Center?

Seeming to sense my discomfort, Whiskey lets out a dramatic groan and flops backward onto the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress. "Well?" he drawls, throwing one arm over his eyes as the other gestures grandly at the nest. "We're not getting any younger over here, darlin'. Have your wicked way with us already."

A startled laugh bursts from my lips before I can stop it. I clap a hand over my mouth, eyes going wide, but it's too late. Whiskey is grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"Ha! There it is," he crows in delight. "I finally got a laugh out of our little wildcat." He props himself up on his elbows, that roguish grin only widening. "Shit, I should frame this moment. Pretty sure that qualifies as an award or something after all this time."

Thane snorts, rolling his eyes. "You're a damn idiot, you know that?"

But there's a hint of grudging fondness in his tone that surprises me. These two clearly share a bond.

"Yeah, yeah. Mock all you want, tough guy," Whiskey shoots back with a wink. "At least I got our pretty little omega to smile. That's gotta count for something in the romance department, right?"

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