Page 12 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

“Ordering,” Azurite snipes. “This is not a request. It is a Trial, and the value of the information you provide will determine whether or not you succeed.”

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Ecker asks. He sounds totally focused on the conversation, but his hand snakes under my skirt. I try to avoid obviously sucking in my breathwhen his palm runs over my thigh and his fingers delve between them.

“There is endless information in the world. What differentiates those who succeed is knowing how to filter it, identifying what is important, and then capitalizing on it.” No one speaks after the Azurite’s cryptic nonanswer.

I’m wondering if we’re about to be dismissed when Ecker’s fingertips ever so lightly trace over the slick pearling over my lips. The gentle caress makes desire twist viciously inside me, wanting more.

My eyes feel dry and hot as I resist the heat wanting to invade my bloodstream. I look down in case I fail. Which I may be closer to than I realize because Bishop growls, and I feel the tie of our bond crackle. It’s like the zap of a cattle prod. Sharp, painful, but undoubtedly pushing me toward one direction.

It’s the weirdest sensation, not only feeling my arousal build within my own body, but also being able to feel it from another person’s perspective. It’s like sinking with a life jacket on.

He tries to cover the low growl by clearing his throat and asking, “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Just that under no circumstances can anyone discover your target. Especially as it’s an inside pack, utmost discretion must be maintained at all times.”

As if mocking the very definition of discretion, Ecker presses two fingers between my folds. I fight the urge to fall forward as he makes contact with my clit, his fingers sliding down either side. I feel my pussy clench at the stimulation, and a soft punch of hot air hits the back of my neck.

I’m wound so tight, so hypersensitive as I resist going into heat, it’s to the point of discomfort. The light puff of his breath feels like an electrifying caress, painful yet soothing. I grip the arms of the chair, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. My blood thrums in my ears. I can feel the pulse on my neck, thumpingwith each heartbeat, ticking like a bomb. My skin pricks with sweat.

The first Elder stands. “We look forward to your first report in a week’s time.”

Thank fucking God.This is almost over.

Bishop and Titus both move to rise and panic jumps in my chest—Ecker can’t stand right now;Ican’t stand right now. A quick look passes between them, and Titus gives an almost indiscernible nod before rising on his own.

“We appreciate your trust in assigning us this Trial.” Titus’s voice is bland and diplomatic as he outstretches his long arm across the wide table to shake the Azurite’s hand.

Bishop’s gaze flick to mine from where he’s still seated. With hooded, nearly glowing eyes, he subtly dips his chin, and I realize now what conspired between the two of them. In a matter of seconds, they silently agreed Titus alone would stand. This allowed us to maintain expectations of respect for the Elders, while not singling out Ecker and me for remaining sitting.

It’s these small moments with unspoken words and silent conversations that remind me how intrinsically linked these men are. A pang of emotion strikes me. It’s too convoluted to be encapsulated by a single word. Part of it is longing, wondering if even being bonded mates, I will ever get as close to these men as they are to each other. Another part feels similar to regret, but perhaps more wistful, for trying to cause a riff in something so sacred. Even finding joy in that divide.

My morose musing manages to temporarily distract me from my invading heat, but the moment the back door slams shut after the last Elder leaves, it comes rushing back.

“What thefuckwere you thinking?” Titus shouts, nostrils flaring.

Bishop throws his hand in our direction and whines to Titus. “There is no way we were that fucking bad!”

“Guys . . .” I whimper, turning feverish as Ifinallyallow myself to be consumed by the heat. Bishop’s eyes, full of concern, flash to mine, and I gasp at the sharp pang of emotion I feel through our bond. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

I shiver with body aches, and the softness in Bishop’s eyes hardens as he turns them on Ecker. “See, you goddamn idiot! You made her sick, forcing her to resist going into heat for so long—”

“Shh,baby girl.” Ecker ignores Bishop’s reprimand. He stands up, keeping a firm grip on my waist so that I stay in the cradle of his hips the entire time. “I know how to make it better. I’ll take all your pain away until it’s nothing but pleasure.”

“Please . . . ,” I beg as I place my palms on the table and arch my back. The flu-like feeling slips away with his first thrust, radiant warmth taking its place. “Yes, yes,more.”

“This is all you needed, huh?” he whispers softly and sweetly, but punches into me in a way that is anything but soft and sweet. “To get fucked good and hard by your mate. This is what you were squirming so desperately on my cock for.”

He bites off a gritty moan and I feel the sound cascade down my back like falling sand. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I plead breathlessly, “Mates. I need to get fucked by mymates.”

Bishop’s voice is strained. “I’m here, Sin—”

Titus’s hand flies out to stop him, slapping him in the chest. “Notin the council room.”

Bishop growls. “But—”

“There’s a closet outside. You have five minutes to do what you need to do to get her through this heat, but don’t even think about knotting her,” Titus orders, his tone a mix of jealousy, annoyance, and sacrifice.

Before he even finishes speaking, Ecker has already pulled out and swept me up in his arms. It’s a quick blur as he swiftly leavesthe council room behind Bishop, who holds open the door to a dark closet across the hall.

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