Page 117 of Feral Alphas

Colt straddles one of the dining chairs backward as Kye tunes his instrument and warms his hands for a final practice before he ships out for his weekend concert. It would be a grand thing to see him on stage in person, but neither Rose nor I are ready for that kind of outing yet. With a criminal on the loose, we’re keeping her at home, to be safe.

Nor could we afford the flights.

Despite all that, we’re privileged to hear the country’s most famous cellist in a special pre-show all our own. I flop down where I’m in reach if Zane picks today to be out of character, but not so close my presence threatens him. He’s a fucking handsome piece of work, and his scent doesn’t bother me. We figure the fact we all enjoy each other’s alpha musk is a trait of being Rose’s scent matches.

Colt catches my eye and purses his lips in a quick kiss, and my insides heat up, even though we’ve already fucked four times sincehe got home this evening. A bandage sits over his nose where Scar caught him with a palm that could have shattered the nasal bridge if Colt hadn’t reacted fast enough. The doctors at the hospital called it a sprain. Didn’t even know you could sprain your nose.

“I hope it’s not all fucking Rephnelium,” Colt rumbles as Kye does a few warmup scales.

Kye arches his brows and points the bow at Colt. “You need to learn to accept the greatest composer this country has ever seen. His music was a gift.”

Colt snorts. “Man was a bastard.”

Kye stiffens. “You met Rephnelium Nesters?”

Colt shrugs. “A few times. Like I said, a bastard.”

“Don’t listen to him, Kye,” I say. “He was a great composer.” I bite down on my grin, wondering how long it will take the fussy musician to put two and two together.

Kye nods my way. “At least someone here has good taste. I’ll begin now.”

The beautiful strains of the cello fill the house and I offer Rose the popcorn. The emerald and diamond ring on her finger flashes under the lights as she takes a handful. Now that I know she’s completely mine, I’d love to give her something like that, but I can’t. I have ordered cheap rings for the guys on a whim, so we have something that says we’re pack. Rose toys with her necklace from Kye, and I look away. I shouldn’t feel like this is a competition. It’s not like he’ll be able to afford more expensive gifts.

He came home almost in tears the other day to tell us his father launched a court suit and froze him out of his apartment earnings. After that he came to me privately to say he’d be late with his boardmoney but would pay it after the concert. Apparently, most of the ticket sales get held until after the show, in case it gets cancelled.

Must be tough for a young man used to dropping thousands whenever he felt like it, but it also makes me angry. On his behalf and my own. The insurance is due, as is the electricity bill. I never complained over Colt’s salary, because I knew everything I had was more than I deserved. But it’s not enough for an omega. My very own omega.

I rest my hand on Rose’s knee, desperate for contact. Not only did she discover me as a scent match, but her body tried to suck in my seed like she was desperate for my babies. I had an omega catch me once, but she was high as a kite and caught several of the Brothers on the same night.

Rose is different. She’s mine and she’s fertile. A possessiveness I’ve never felt before always lurks in the back of my mind, tuned to her presence. Her laugh makes me hard, her scent puts my soul at ease.

I want to spoil her.

Last week she giggled and exclaimed as we watched the TV miniseries on the glamorous lives of the famous omegas, living in their mansions and having trouble deciding between their five hundred pairs of shoes—which they have an entire room dedicated to storing.

For the first time in fourteen years, I’m not content being moderately poor. If one of these feral beasts ends up breaking part of the house, or us, we don’t have any emergency funds. I rub idly at the bruise on my upper arm where Scar landed me a shocker when we got him washed during the week. He’s not an easy beast to live with, but Rose still loves him.

Movement from the shadows catches my gaze and I watch as Zane’s hand slips between the bars, hesitating an inch away from Rose’s hair. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and then he withdraws his hand.

I reach over slowly and stroke her head. “Hair,” I say, lifting a few of the blonde strands. When I move away, he watches me. “Yes,” I whisper. “Hair.” A moment later his fingers creep forward again.

“Tell him yes,” I murmur to Rose.

Instead, she slowly reaches back and takes his fingers, pressing them to her hair. “Hair. Yes, Zane.”

Our whispers draw Colt’s attention, but don’t seem to disturb Kye, who’s deep in his soul-stirring music. In fact, the music could have a lot to do with settling this feral alpha. Music and Rose’s patient teaching.

Zane responds to sit, non, yes, eat, come, and kiss from Rose, which seems to be his favorite command. Another similarity we share. Oh, and the word sex, apparently.

Tentatively the alpha rests his fingers on Rose’s head and when they slide down the silky strands, he does it again, a soft look of awe on his face that speaks to my soul. I feel the same way about her.

The doorbell rings and Rose twitches with alarm. I rest my head on her back. “It’s okay. I’m expecting a package.”

Her eyes light up. “Can I come see?

My heart twists. “Of course.” All of these ordinary occurrences are brand new and exciting for her.

Rosejogs to the front door and I follow with a chuckle, making sure I get in front of her before I open it.

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