Page 56 of Feral Alphas

I jerk to attention, my heart skipping at the sight of Colt standing in the aisle. I’m on my feet before I’ve thought about it, but that gives me time to process his tightly-drawn face and the angry alpha musk pouring off him.

He points at the front doors. “Out.”

I stand my ground, fighting years of self-induced submissive behavior. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore, Colt. Go home.”

A vicious growl tears through his throat and the full weight of his alpha authority burns through his words. “Out. Now!” The choirmaster swings around to watch us.

“Why?” I mutter, shivering as I resist his pressure.

“So help me, Luka, do not make me add cursing in God’s house to my list of sins!”

I grab my bag and scuttle past him, hearing the clink of money as he drops coins in the offering box as he comes out behind me. Colt came for me, but he’s angry as an injured bull.

I hesitate on the wide flagstone steps as I see his work car pulled up half on the sidewalk. He jogs down the stairs two at a time and opens the back passenger door. “Get in the car, Luka.”

I sling my backpack on my shoulders and face him. “You won’t be able to claim the omega with me in the house, Sir.” I wince as the word slips out from habit. “Colt.” My heartbeat skitters irregularly in my ears. Why did he come? It’s going to make this harder on both of us.

He points at the door, staring me down like I’m a petulant toddler. He’s stubborn as a donkey when he wants to be, so words aren’t going to get us anywhere. I turn as if to walk away.

“Luka Nesters, you will get in the car, or I swear I’ll throw you over my shoulder and put you there myself like the day I brought you home. I’m trying really hard to keep my hands off you since you used your safe word, but my patience has expired. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car!”

Surprised by the strength in his tone, I swing back. “Why aren’t you getting it?” Suddenly my stomach drops. Maybe the omega was a false positive and he won’t be bringing her home. “Did something bad happen?” I ask.

He scoffs. “Yeah, I came home to find my fucking heart had been ripped out, you fucking idiot!”

“But your omega—”

“Our omega’s coming with two feral alphas attached. You think I can leave her in the house alone with beasts who probably want to rip her throat out?” He braces one hand on the car roof, his voicerising. “How about I need a man I can fucking trust to be with her at all times because she doesn’t know how to even turn a blasted oven on? You ever think about those things?”

He’s shouting at me now, his alpha scent slipping all over the place. “Or were you too busy losing faith in me to think about anything but running?”

The ground seems to tilt, and I grab at the railing of the church steps. “Feral alphas?”

“Yes, Luka. And to top it off, some strange alpha we don’t know is coming to stay with us because he’s also a scent match. As the fucking facts stand right now, I cannot bring my omega home until you’re there, and even if that wasn’t the case, you belong in my house, so stop gawking at me and get your scrawny ass in the car!”

His lips curl back in a snarl, and he uses a damn alpha bark on me. “Now!”

My knees go weak at the same time my dick goes hard and I stumble toward the car. He waits at the door until I get in the back seat, then slams it so hard behind me the whole car rocks.

He walks around the car, but as he leans in, I say, “The men’s shelter is expecting me back.”

“Stay,” he orders, before crossing the road and talking to the guy at the door. In a minute he’s back and hitting the engine start. “Seatbelt on.”

“Feral alphas, like the ones that did—?”

“Be silent!” he snaps, his hands tensing on the wheel before he flips the car into gear. He drives the poor machine like he stole it, and I’m honestly glad the Bureau pays for maintenance, because the engine’s probably going to need replacing soon judging by the way he slams the accelerator to the floor.

I lift my fingers and count off the heads Colt mentioned. Omega, scent match alpha, feral alpha number one, feral alpha number two.

Where the fuck are we supposed to house four extra people, and more to the point, how are we going to feed and clothe them? There’s zero chance we can manage it on Colt’s wage, especially since he didn’t get the promotion. And since he’s on unpaid suspension he might not even get his job back. Goosebumps prickle over my skin as nerves rush through me.

Rain pummels the windscreen as sharply as his acrid musk sweeps through the car, sticking to my damp coat. As we screw through the streets at a bolting hare’s pace, I try to remember if I’ve ever seen Colt this angry. By the time he screeches into the home driveway, I still haven’t thought of an occasion that trumps this moment.

He opens the trunk and for a split moment I could imagine him getting a rifle out of the back and coming round to shoot me, but the only thing that pops is an umbrella as he opens my door. I climb out and he walks me to the house without touching me. Funny thing is, Colt probably knows as many ways as I do to make a body disappear, but I feel no fear.

“Sit in a chair at the dining table and wait for me.”

I listen as he unloads stuff out of the car, and I see the edge of a sleeping bag and clothing sprawl around the corner from the foyer. When he comes back, he fills a glass with water and gets the last protein bar out of its box, carelessly throwing the empty packet across the floor.