Page 66 of Feral Alphas

Panic rises when there’s only a few pages left at the back, and I haven’t smelt any of them yet. I squirm and glance up, looking for my men. Colt steps closer and rests his hands on my shoulders, and his touch soothes me enough to keep going.

I turn to the second last page and a match hits me hard. I whine, bending down to shove my nose into the piece of cloth. Only Colt’s quick pressure on my shoulders saves me from rubbing my face on the book, and I jerk back with a gasp. I carefully write the number down on the notepad they provided and turn the pages to the end.

But there’s a scent missing. I turn back a few pages and try again, but it’s not here.

“Is there another book? One’s missing.”

The prison guard exchanges a look over my head and I spin to catch Leslie giving him a nod. The guard comes back a moment later with a slim red book. My lips curl back in a silent snarl as I realize they tried to trick me again.

I flip through the pages quickly, and I find it. The scent hits me so hard tears come to my eyes and a barking noise I didn’t know I could make slides through my mouth. My pussy waters and my omega scent floods everywhere as I sag in relief and write down the second number. I was right.

A quick scan of the book doesn’t offer any more soul-touching scents, so I scrub at the tears sliding down my cheeks and look up. “I hope you’re not holding any more back from me, because two of those men are my alphas, and I’d hate to miss one.”

The prison guard winces guiltily. “That’s all our books, ma’am. I assure you.”

I swivel toward Colt and catch a look of dread on his face. He’s staring at the red book, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they might keep some residents’ scents in a separate book. Those are the most dangerous ones, and Colt knows it.

Kye looks like he might faint.

I reach my hands out to them. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but I had those same responses when I got both your scents. Don’t they deserve a chance too?”

Colt’s the first to recover. “Of course, Rose. We’ll do everything we can for them. Let’s go see the ones you picked out.”

As the prison guards lead us deep into the complex, he tells me they’re in temporary accommodation due to the capture of over a dozen kennels. He also says that under no circumstances am I to approach the cells and warns us that the residents will be overly excited by the presence of an omega.

The doors buzz before opening and I stop dead in my tracks, the noise so similar to the arena chutes, and the corridors of cages so sickeningly familiar that nausea rises in my throat. Inhuman growls and roars rush at me through the door, along with overwhelmingly strong alpha scents.

Everyone stops with me. I close my eyes, my breaths coming too quickly.

Colt turns me into his chest. “Do you want to go back?”

I shake my head.

“Do you want me to carry you in there?”

This is what it means to be scent matched, to have someone that reads me better than I can understand myself. “Yes,” I whisper. “The door sounds like something back at the kennels.”

He grunts as he picks me up, and I lock my legs around him like I did that first day.

As the guard promised, our presence sends the feral alphas into an uproar, and they howl as we clomp down the concrete floor marked with yellow and black danger zones.

We pass Zazu and Timon and then I see Mufasa leaning on the bars in his cage like he does every time I’m in the room, straining to see me.

“This is your first scent match,” the guard says, stopping in front of my protector.

I squirm and Colt puts me down. “Mufasa. That’s what they called him. They all had Lion King names, and his was Mufasa.” I step up to the line and smile. “Hi, Mufasa. I knew I couldn’t be wrong.”

The last time we were this close I was barely conscious enough to enjoy it. His bruises have gone down and someone’s neatly stitched his cut. His tanned-looking skin glows with a much healthier sheen under the bright lighting, but he’s still underweight. Mufasa wears loose boxer shorts that tent in silent proof that he feels the connection as strongly as I do.

Feral or not, he’s my mate.

“Yeah, it’s me. I came to see you.” I sniff and wipe my eyes on my sleeve before Kye passes me a handkerchief. I didn’t even know handkerchiefs were a real thing outside of movies until Kye came along.

I tap my chest. “I’m Rose, although I got that name the same way you did, from those kennel bastards.” I pause to blow my nose. “I guess we’re more alike than most people know, huh? But we’re working on a plan to bring you home, okay?”

I swallow a hard lump. “Please be patient. And be good to the people here. No biting. No kicking. They’re trying to keep you safe, and you don’t have to fight anymore. Never again.”

He's in such a tiny space. I lose my fight against the tears, and contrary to the warnings, I spring forward across the line to press myself against the bars. I know Mufasa would never hurt me.

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