Page 122 of Feral Alphas

“Apply for omega leave for me.” I snatch up my jacket and hurtle down the corridor to smash the elevator button a dozen times. In my car I hammer the emergency lights and screech out of the garage with the sirens screaming. Fuck not using them for personal situations! This is more than personal, it’s cosmic.

After all I’ve done for him, how could Luka betray us like this? How could he use her like a common toy for the masses to gawk at and masturbate over? I thought I’d helped him, I thought he’d changed from the man with a broken moral compass I first met.

Tears burn in my vision, and I swipe at them furiously.

I scraped the notorious Bikie Butcher off the floor after he woke up in the hospital and went feral. I taught him self-control, in our own unique way. I gave him my bank access, everything was shared. Even our omega.

My scent floods the car, dark and bitter as cloves. Tears blur my vision. Luka’s been my everything for so long, it never occurred to me that we might not be on the same page about everything. For so many years he’s obeyed everything I ever asked, but now I discover he’s jerking off to strangers? Was I not enough for him? The thought makes me go completely blank.

I flip off the lights and sirens as I hit our street and coast up the driveway before slamming the brakes and hauling myself out. Everything about the house looks different, the brown brick tarnished like rust by his betrayal.

The front door slams shut behind me and I hear his voice from the kitchen. “That you, Colt?”

Those sweet tones, usually so subservient which only turned out to be a snake’s tongue. My throat chokes up even as the red rage rises.

I stomp into the kitchen and grab him by the back of the throat, not even stopping to turn off the tap. I ram his stomach into the kitchen bench and pinch his neck in my big hand as I slap the envelope down on the polished wood and bend him until his face is an inch from the paper.

“Want to take a wild guess what’s in there?” I snarl, alpha dominance spilling out everywhere. I’m so angry, my hands are itching to tear him limb from limb.

He droops in my grip, pretending to submit while fear leeches off him. “Photos?”

“Of what, Graham?” His old name. I haven’t used it in fourteen years. I never thought I’d use it again, but saying the name I gave him burns like acid.

He whimpers. “My cock?”

“And what else?” I hiss.

A pathetic noise slides through his throat. “And Rose?”

I’m conditioned to protect omegas, that’s who I am as an agent. “Ourfucking omega, Graham! How dare you?!” I slam his face into the wood and blood spurts across the envelope. “Did she know you were recording?”

His eyes squeeze shut. “No, Sir.”

“Don’t you dare call me that! I’m not your Sir.” I roar. “I fed you, I clothed you, brought you back from madness, then I brought an omega in and gave you a family, and this is how you repay me? How you repay her? Recording an omega against their knowledge is a crime, you fucking imbecile!” If the Omega Center ever learns about this, they’ll take Rose away immediately. And to make it worse, I’m a fucking mandatory reporter. Whatever I do, I’ll be betraying someone too.

He's trembling like a leaf in an autumn howler, but I shake him some more. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you want to yank your cock in front of a camera, but to do that to Rose? How fucking dare you!?”

I can’t help myself. I want to see him bleed so I slam his face down once more. His breaths snuffle through his busted lip, but he still doesn’t fight back. I wish he would, so I could legally kill him. Would that end this violent pain ripping through my chest?

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I shout.

“No, S—Colt.”

I drag him, bleeding, across the counter and hurl him through the door of our room. I throw his jacket, a change of clothes and his phone in the bag and then I spy the laptop I bought him. I pick it up and go to heave it across the room at him, when I catch myself.

A scoff grates through my thickened throat. “Guess you’ll need to whore your cock out to survive, not that I care if you die.” It’s lies, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I shove the laptop into the backpack, along with his boots, then grab him by the neck, forcing him to half-crawl half-stagger down the hall to the front door.

Rose comes out of her room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Colt? What’s—” She spies the blood drips on the carpet and my grip on Luka and starts shouting. “Let him go!”

I haul Luka out the front door and throw him onto the lawn, almost on top of a jet-lagged Kye, who’s dragging his cello case up the path.

“Don’t you call or come back, you fucking traitor, or I’ll sic the entire OCB onto you!”

Rose starts screaming, but I catch her around the waist as she tries to run past me.

“Colt, what’s going on?” Kye asks, dropping his case and running to the shrieking omega under my arm. “Why are you tossing Luka out?”

I hark deep in my throat, trying to clear the bile, and spit on the pavers. “Go see the envelope in the kitchen and you’ll understand. He’s a fucking traitor who’s been whoring out our omega!”

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