Page 65 of Feral Omega

The urge to grab her, to haul her flush against me and bury my face in the soft curve of her throat is nearly overpowering. I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, fighting against the tide of want roaring through my veins.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I'm not some panting rut-boy enslaved to his cock. I've been alone with countless omegas over the years, their scents swirling thick enough to choke, and never once have I felt anything beyond mild annoyance at their existence.

But this one... she's like a siren's call I can't resist, even with her scent masked, luring me toward the rocks with each sway of those hips that fill out more by the day. It's maddening, utterly fucking maddening, and I have no idea how to make it stop.

Up ahead, Whiskey pauses, raising a fist as his eyes narrow. I tense immediately, every sense straining as I scan our surroundings for threats. But then the big idiot simply gestures to a rocky outcropping jutting from the mountainside, its craggy face providing an unobstructed view of the compound nestled in the valley below.

A grin splits my face as I take in the vantage point. Perfect.

"Set up here," I murmur to Whiskey, already slinging my rifle from my back. "I'll take the high ground."

He scowls at me but he knows better than to argue when it's showtime. With a curt nod, he unslings his own weapon and drops into a crouch, bracing the heavy barrel on the rocks as he scans for targets through the scope.

I turn to Ivy, holding her gaze steadily. "With me," I say, already starting to climb the craggy face.

To her credit, she doesn't hesitate. Just nods once and follows me up, scrambling over the jagged stones with an easy grace that has me gritting my teeth against a fresh surge of need.

Fucking omega.

The outcropping narrows toward the top, leaving barely enough space for the two of us to brace ourselves. Ivy settles in behind me, her back pressed to the icy rock face as she peers over my shoulder.

I can feel the warmth of her body like a brand, the soft press of her curves against my back sending tendrils of heat licking along my nerves. Her breath ghosts over the nape of my neck, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

Gripping the stock of my rifle, I force myself to focus, to channel that seething need into the mission at hand. I move to where there's a bit more room and take my position, prone on the rock, one eye to the scope. The estate looms in my scope, its walls and parapets swarming with armed sentries making their rounds.

My finger caresses the trigger guard, a lover's gentle touch as I scan for my first target. There—a lone sentry in the guard tower, his attention drifting as the bitter wind whips icy flurries into his face.

Perfect.

"You might want to look away for this part, Princess," I murmur over my shoulder, to where Ivy has curled up as far away from me as she can, unable to resist one last needling jab. I find myself wanting to get under her skin. To crawl in there and burrow deep, probably as a proxy for the longing to be buried deep inside her cunt.

To my surprise, Ivy doesn't flinch or avert her gaze. If anything, her eyes seem to glaze with a strange detachment as she watches me line up the shot.

"Don't worry about me," she breathes.

Our eyes lock for one charged moment, a silent challenge passing between us. Then I turn my focus back to the scope, drawing in a slow, steadying breath as I find my mark.

The gunshot rings out like a thunderclap, the recoil slamming into my shoulder as the sentry crumples to the catwalk in a spray of crimson. My lips peel back in a savage grin as I cycle the bolt, reacquiring my next target through the scope's crosshairs.

This... this is what I live for. The thrill of the hunt, the heady rush of power as I dole out life and death with each squeeze of the trigger. I'd prefer getting up close and personal at the edge of a blade, but for now, this will have to do. My finger tightens, the second target's head blossoming into a cloud of red mist as the high-caliber round punches through his skull.

I lose myself in the rhythm, the world narrowing to the tunnel vision of my scope as I methodically eliminate each sentry along the wall. One by one, they fall like a grotesque parody of dominoes, their blood painting crimson arcs across the pristine snow.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoes from the direction of the compound, the staccato rattle of automatic weapons joining the fray. Thane and the others must have breached the inner perimeter, leaving chaos and blood in their wake.

My grin widens as the adrenaline surges, every nerve ending thrumming with dark, primal energy. This is it—the moment the real hunt begins, the crucible of fire and steel that separates the hunters from the prey.

For a moment, I forget I'm not alone. And I haven't exactly masked the fact that I take delight in my job.

Oh, well. My little rabbit was going to realize the truth sooner or later.

"You enjoy the show, sweetheart?" I can't resist the taunt as I turn to gauge Ivy's reaction.

But the sight that greets me has the mocking words dying on my lips.

She looms above me, clutching a jagged chunk of rock the size of her fist.

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