Page 64 of Feral Omega

I love it.

My gaze drifts to Ivy, the feral little omega trudging ahead of me, her lithe form swallowed by layers of tactical gear. She moves with feline grace, each step measured and purposeful despite the arduous terrain. Even from behind, I can sense the coiled tension thrumming through her body, that ever-present wariness that never seems to fade.

A shiver races down my spine, but it has nothing to do with the biting chill.

This one... she awakens something primal within me. Something dark and hungry, a craving I've never known before. The urge to stalk her, to run her to ground and claim her as my own overwhelms every rational thought.

And yet, mingled with that savage need is another instinct just as fierce. The desire to shield her from harm, to wrap her in the protective circle of my arms and destroy and disembowel anything and anyone that dares threaten her.

The duality of it leaves me reeling, my baser instincts warring with the twisted shreds of my humanity. I didn't think I had any of that left.

I've always been a killer, a monster lurking in the shadows with an insatiable thirst for blood. Taking lives has never phased me, never stirred anything beyond a fleeting rush of power, of control. But now, the thought of Ivy's blood being spilled, of her life snuffed out...

It makes my own heart stutter in my chest, an icy tendril of dread coiling through my veins.

Brow furrowing, I tear my gaze away from the hypnotic sway of her hips, forcing my attention back to our surroundings. Up ahead, Wraith's hulking silhouette looms like a walking nightmare, that massive frame cutting a path through the knee-deep drifts.

My grip tightens on the stock of my rifle as the memory of him grabbing Ivy flashes through my mind, unbidden. For a split second back there, I was ready to put a bullet between his soulless eyes, feral brother of Thane or not.

I didn't know what he was going to do. He could've torn her arm out of its socket. Flung her from the cliffs. He's unpredictable. A wildcard. A rabid beast.

I may be a serial killer, but I'm nothing if not predictable.

The dark impulse leaves me shaken, my control slipping like grains of sand through clenched fingers. I am the master of my baser urges, not their slave. To lose that iron discipline, even for a heartbeat...

It's unacceptable.

Gritting my teeth, I force the unwanted thoughts down, locking them away behind steel doors in the darkest recesses of my mind. I can't afford to lose focus, not now. Not with the scent of blood and chaos drifting ever closer on the crisp mountain air.

The plume of smoke is a smudged gray slash against the stark horizon, its tendrils curling lazily toward the slate-gray sky. Our target lies just beyond that veil of concealing trees, its walls and wire fences bristling with armed sentries like a hornet's nest waiting to be kicked.

A grin tugs at my lips at the thought. I live for moments like these, when the hunt reaches its crescendo and the game becomes a matter of life or death. The thrill of the blade, the searing kiss of gunsmoke... it's an intoxicating high that no drug could ever hope to match.

Which is why this strange new hunger gnawing at my core is so disorienting, so utterly maddening.

I don't crave Ivy's pain or her fear.

I want to shield her from it, to keep her safe and untouched amidst the storm of violence about to be unleashed.

It's weakness, pure and simple.

A crack in my armor that could prove fatal if I let it fester.

Tightening my jaw, I force the tumultuous thoughts from my mind as Thane slows to a halt, raising a fist in the universal signal. Our vanguard has reached the tree line, the looming silhouette of the estate now visible through the skeletal trunks.

"Whiskey," I murmur, the low rasp of my voice cutting through the brittle silence. "You're with me. Time to find our nest."

The burly alpha nods, already scanning the ridge lines and rocky outcroppings flanking our approach vector. I turn my attention to Ivy, those piercing blue-green eyes snapping to mine with the weight of a physical blow. The black balaclava that covers most of her face just brings those eyes out even more.

"And you're with me, little rabbit," I say, the endearment rolling off my tongue. It irritates me that Thane decided everyone's calling her that today when I'm certain I coined that name myself, and I don't like the idea of it resting on anyone else's tongue, but that's an argument for a different day.

Her eyes harden in brief defiance before she gives a curt nod, falling into step beside me as I lead the way up a narrow game trail winding higher into the craggy peaks.

Whiskey takes point, his rifle sweeping back and forth as he scans for threats. Despite his penchant for childish antics, the idiot can be deadly focused when the stakes are high enough. And with Ivy in our ranks, they're higher than they ever have been.

I bring up the rear, keeping Ivy between us as we ascend into the teeth of the freezing wind. Her scent is still masked, and I find myself longing for it in its absence.

But Plague is right. She's distracting enough as it is.

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