Page 29 of Feral Omega

Her scent lingers in my nose even out here. Earthy and sweet, like honeysuckle vines in the forest.

And it's driving me fucking crazy.

I glance over at the squat concrete building that houses our clinic. Plague's got her locked up tight in there, doing god knows what.

Never trusted that creepy bastard, but Thane definitely does, so I gotta deal with it. Still don't like it though. An omega in that condition...what the hell happened to her out there?

Movement catches my eye and I slow my pace. Wraith's hulking form is skulking around the side of the clinic, his masked face tilted back like a monster scenting the air.

He ain't the only one.

Caught Valek lingering earlier too, sharpening those fucking knives of his, pale blue eyes fixed on that door.

We're all orbiting around her like she's got us on leashes, and none of us even know why. It's like some primal shit, ancient coding in our DNA compelling us to... what?

Protect her?

Claim her?

I don't fucking know.

The fact that the Council supposedly sent her to calm us down seems like a fucking joke. She's barely said a word since she came here and she's already got us all fucked up.

I skid to a stop, breathing hard, hands braced on my knees. Sweat drips into my eyes, blurring my vision. But I can still see the rear clinic door, a monolith in the center of the main building, holding the secrets of the strange omega within.

"Fuck it," I mutter, swiping my face with the bottom of my shirt. My feet move of their own accord, carrying me across the sparse grass, worn down to dirt in places by the pacing of restless alphas.

By my pacing.

The clinic door looms before me, dull gray metal. I raise my fist to knock, then drop it. Plague doesn't want us bothering him. But the thought of her lying in there, hurt and alone...

A growl rumbles up my throat.

I can't just leave her with him.

I test the handle. Locked. 'Course it fuckin' is. I could kick it in, but then I'd have to deal with Thane. And Plague. Not like I'm scared of that freak, but I don't wanna get dosed with some freaky bioweapon shit.

Nah, I have to play this smart.

Huffing out a big breath, I turn and lean my back against the door, tipping my head back to thunk against the metal. Her scent is stronger here, seeping out through the cracks. I close my eyes and breathe deep, letting it wash over me.

Fuck, even stale and faded, it's intoxicating.

At least I can tell from the steady, even beat of the heart monitor she's still breathing. And not being tortured right now.

A soft scuff of boots on dirt makes my eyes snap open. Wraith stares at me from the corner of the building, head cocked to the side. I bare my teeth at him in warning, but he just blinks slowly, unfazed. He points one gloved finger at the door, then taps two fingers against his masked jaw. Asking a question.

"I don't fuckin' know," I snap. "Plague's got her in there. Playing doctor shit or whatever."

Wraith makes a low noise in his ruined throat, a rough growl of... concern?

Anger?

Fuck if I know. He probably wants to eat her.

And I don't just mean her pussy.

Wraith drifts closer, looming over me. I straighten up, squaring my shoulders. He might be the biggest fucker here, but I ain't backing down.

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