Page 94 of Feral Omega

Whiskey jabs a finger at Plague. "Like he said, Ivy's heat is still going strong. And with the convoy due to arrive any day now to complete this arms deal, her scent is going to lead every low-life merc and gun-runner within a hundred clicks straight to our doorstep. Those fuckwads in the woods had an easy enough time finding her when the scent suppressor was working."

The weight of his words settles over the room like a pall. Because as infuriatingly opportunistic as the medic might be, Thane's not wrong. An unclaimed, fertile omega in the throes of her cycle is essentially a beacon to every unattached alpha for miles around.

And we're currently in the stomping grounds of the absolute dregs of society—black market opportunists and human traffickers just waiting to get their hands on such a rare, invaluable prize.

"So what do we do?" Whiskey asks, frustration etching lines around his lips. "We can't just leave her like this."

"No, we can't," Thane agrees with a curt nod.

My brows shoot up, the first tendril of unease slithering through me at the look in those dark eyes of his.

"We're going to let Ivy decide which of us gets to... service her needs," Thane says. "Let her choose her partner of her own free will."

His dark gaze sweeps over each of us in turn, seeming to bore straight through to the simmering well of feral instincts lurking beneath our veneers of civility.

"The last thing we need right now is a bloodbath between horny alphas," Thane says firmly. "Ivy will choose, and we're all going to accept it, no arguments. And anyone who so much as thinks about forcing themselves on her can answer to me personally."

The threat doesn't need to be voiced—the promise of violence is clear in every line of his body, in the glittering darkness of those merciless eyes.

No one wants to lose his balls to Thane. But for once, we're all on the same page regardless of his threats. No one is going to force Ivy to do anything she doesn't want to do.

"As it should be," Plague chimes in.

Thane shoots him a withering stare. "Anyone but you. You get to sit this one out, doc. Since you already sampled the merchandise, so to speak."

Plague holds that smoldering glare for a long moment, that muscle twitching in his chiseled jaw. Then, slowly, he gives a curt nod of acquiescence. "Fine. But you get to be the one to explain it to her."

"With pleasure," the big alpha says, already turning on his heel and heading for the hallway Plague emerged from.

Whiskey blinks, a bemused look flickering across those rugged features. "You sure about this, Thane?" Whiskey calls after him. "I mean... we're alphas, not some soft-pawed house pets. You really think courting is gonna work out here? Especially with an omega as wild as a mustang?"

The look Thane pins him with is dark, unreadable. "We don't have a choice," he rumbles after a weighted pause. "Not if we want to keep her safe."

With that, he turns and disappears down the hall, each step sending a dull thud reverberating through the floor. Whiskey and I watch him go in silence, the weight of his words seeming to linger in the air between us like a physical force.

At last, Whiskey breaks the quiet with a low, rumbling chuckle. "Well, this oughtta be interesting."

I snort, rolling my eyes as I sink back onto the battered couch. "May the best man win."

In this group, that's going to be a challenge, considering there's not a single one of us who's anything resembling best.

Or even good.

Chapter

Thirty-Six

THANE

The rich, heady scent of Ivy's heat crashes over me like a tidal wave as I step into the infirmary. My nostrils flare, every muscle in my body tensing as that intoxicating aroma floods my senses. Sweet honeysuckle and spice, laced with the musky promise of a fertile omega in full bloom.

It's like nothing I've ever encountered before.

A siren's call tugging at the most primal instincts lurking in my hindbrain, that ravenous part of me that's all too aware of her vulnerability. Of the tempting offering her body presents in this state.

I swallow hard, gritting my teeth as the urge to stalk forward and claim her surges through me. To let the beast off its leash and take what every fiber of my alpha nature screams is mine by primal right.

Only sheer force of will keeps me rooted in place, nails biting into my palms as I wrestle that primal hunger back under control.

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