Page 65 of Feral Alphas

I reach up and cradle his face, marveling at how strongly I feel about this man I’ve only met once. But scent match or not, I guess I’m still a little shy with him. I push through that bit of resistanceand press my lips to his, and his hands settle on my hips to rock me closer.

When I step back, I tug on my neckline to reveal the galaxy necklace. “Look, I’m wearing it.”

“It looks darling, just like you.” He taps my nose and offers me his hand.

As I turn, I catch an odd look on Colt’s face, and wonder if he feels jealous. I suppose it might be hard to see me with a man he barely knows. I reach out to take his hand as well and he squeezes me in his big grip.

“Ready?”

“So ready!” I sing-song back to him.

To my delight, we’re traveling in Colt’s work SUV and he opens the door for me to get in the front. Max and Kye climb in the back, and I swivel on the leather seats to grin at Kye while Colt leans over me to clip my seatbelt in. I can’t deny that my pussy heats up as his big body covers me for that brief moment, and my scent flares. Colt hides a grin as he circles the car to get in.

“How far do we have to drive?” I ask, peering out to watch Leslie get in another car. Apparently she prefers to drive herself than cram in the back with a giant beta and well-built alpha. I sneak another peek at Kye, wondering what he looks like under that silky shirt, and he winks.

I’m hoping he can’t tell what I’m thinking as my cheeks flush.

“It’s about forty-five minutes, depending on traffic,” Colt says as he eases the car into gear. “I put something in the glovebox you might be interested in,” he says, and I jerk forward to see what it is. On top of the car manual, I find a photograph of a serious-looking man with shoulder-length blonde hair.

“Luka?” I ask, stroking the shiny paper over his chest.

“Yes.”

I smile at the gentle tone in his voice. It’s clear Colt loves this man so much, and that means he’ll have a lot of love for me too. “Will he come to the Center?”

Colt shakes his head, a sad look straining his broad features. “No, he stays at home, but he’s so excited to meet you.”

I press my thumbs either side of the squared-off face, wondering what he looks like when he smiles. Tattooed wings ring his throat and I grin. I have a whole family of rescue angels.

I swivel so I can see Kye. “Did you meet him? Are you going to join the pack?”

Kye grins. “I sure did. He’s quiet, and he’s a great cook.”

My eyes widen as I imagine the man in the photo cooking for us.

“And yes,mi amor. I already moved into the house.”

I squeal and hunch in on myself, afraid my excitement will split me open. So far so good.

We chat about music and food, and I’m in awe when he tells me he’s a cellist. I spend the whole trip with my eyes darting between my two men and the view of the city racing past the window. Suburban streets replace the high rises and then the city fades into flatlands with horse yards and industrial zones.

Somewhere back there is a house where my scent matches live, and one day soon I’m going to join them. I squeeze my hands around my seatbelt.

Alpha Lodgings is clearly synonymous with prison because the security here is extreme. The complex is double walled, with towers and rolls of barbed wire, and we get scanned for metal before they take us to a waiting room. The scent of alphas swirls thickly in theair, and I press into Colt’s side as bad memories of the kennels and arenas flood my mind.

“You okay?” Leslie and Colt ask at the same time, sharing a wry smile with each other.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

Leslie frowns. “If at any point you—”

I cut her off. “No, I want to see them.” We’ve come all this way and I fought so hard for my feral alphas, so I’m not going back now.

After a few minutes, two prison guards bring us a sample book, laying it on the table before offering me elbow-length gloves. “This is the scent register of the alphas in our care. We take a sample from everyone who’s admitted, so take a look, please.”

I skim the fabric over my hands eagerly and settle into a chair at the table. My spine’s rigid with excitement as I turn page after page. They’re testing me to see if I’m making it up by telling me to go through all the scents here instead of meeting with the Grom alphas. The way my announcement that some of the feral alphas are my scent matches sent the Omega Center into uproar tells me this is a unique situation.

Well, I know what I smelt when Mufasa crouched over me.

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