Page 3 of Terror

The hardness between his legs pushes against my clit, and my body shudders. A giant weight accumulates in my lower belly, travels down and down into my pussy channel, where it lingers. I swear it awaits his command. “What are you doing to me?”

“Whatever I want.” He snaps his fingers.

I inhale a scent so strong and male that it makes me bite Terror’s lower lip and all the liquid heat comes gushing out of me. He fists my hair, pulls, and presses my clit against his groin.

“Oh my God.” I come again. My pussy flutters frantically seeking his knot to fill me. My brain nags that something is wrong, but I can’t compute, I can’t think, because Terror runs his lips down my neck. “Kitten,” he says, “have you been taking Betaren?”

“Yes, Alpha,” I pant, trying to rub against him.

“For how long?”

“Twice a week for a year.”

Terror’s body goes rigid, and then he’s hugging me, stroking my hair. “I’m gonna kill a lot of people for you.”

Chapter 2

Arkin

I don’t often get to hold an Omega. I’m aware of their influencing powers over my good judgment. Simply put, I assess a female or male, mark the home, and have others in my Collector unit take care of the rest, such as filling out the paperwork for the Omega register, the same register the elite class of humans, meaning those loaded with their paper currency, have deemed voluntary.

Though I’d love to be everywhere at once and mark every one of the human Omegas, I am only one male. The idea of integrating with human society and not merely ruling over it arose from understanding that a healthy relationship with their governing bodies, led by mayors the population has chosen via their voting system, will benefit all people, both Reghan and Earthlings. However, trusting a human mayor proved a mistake. Melanie, the local mayor whose house I’m inhabiting in my prince’s absence, has led a movement against us, breaking multiple laws, both human and ours.

She broke the trust and worked with our enemy Domitay, son of Utay who calls himself King of Earth. Naturally, my brother has returned to Earth for a war with the imposter king. My sole responsibility is to protect the Omega population.

With Kitten still firmly attached to me, I back up and sit on the table. She’s not riding me anymore, content to simply enjoy the pheromones I released to get her to display her dynamic. I stroke her hair, noting the softness of it. She uses an orange blossom shampoo and perhaps a touch of perfume. But most of all, I scent Betaren-tainted Omega lubricant, the liquid Omegas release when preparing for penetration.

In her brief trance, as she responded to my scent, I asked her questions. I already knew the answers, but a confirmation didn’t hurt. I could’ve asked her anything, even sent her into heat, but then I’d be obligated to service her as I promised. I’m unsure why I promised such a thing. I am an Alpha Collector, trained and tested in the arts of Omega handling. I am not to have one for myself as this would distract me from my duty to my prince, who also happens to be my cousin.

Blinking, the Omega looks up, likely trying to clear her mind of my pheromonal influence. She’s cute, this one. Korean ancestry, I presume. If her large slanted brown eyes aren’t enough to tell me from where her grandparents might have originated, her last name of Park is a dead giveaway. Kims, Lees, and Parks are found abundantly in Korea. South, of course. North is a bit more complicated.

She rubs her nose on my shoulder, and I take it as a cue to release her.

Standing, she squares her shoulders and pierces me with a death stare. “You.” She pokes my chest.

“Me.” I stand straight, even bend my head a little so she can reach. I’ve been slapped more than any other Alpha in this land, and Sotay’s five-dollar bet guarantees him money. I accepted anyway. Handling fussy Omegas who want to hurt me is a part of the job.

“What have you done to me?”

“When I ask if you are an Omega, I expect an answer. Refusing, however, makes it way more fun for me.”

Red colors her cheeks. It’s not the sweet red of a blush. It’s crimson outrage. I specialize in enraging Omegas who put up a fight.

“You humiliated me,” she says.

“Since you’re set on rebelling, I simply asked your body to answer me.”

“That’s not all of it. You questioned me.”

“Naturally. Now you can tell me all about your Betaren experience and how you’re getting regular doses.”

Her big brown eyes widen, and a small seductive smile plays on her lips, which she licks for good measure. I’m immune to seduction but play along, bending my head some more, waiting for the slap. Or maybe she’ll spit in my face. I have no idea.

“You’re the Collectors’ boss, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Omega.”

“Well, listen here, Collector boss.”

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