Page 26 of This Pack of Ours

I was panting, tense, blood spattered all over, and there—movement.

I pounced, tackling the threat to the ground, and looked up to see the fourth body sprawled in front of me. Then who had I tackled?

I heard a whimper from below me. It was… Juniper. Damn. That was the only thought I had before her perfume hit me full in the hindbrain.

Fuuuuck.

I leaned down, needing more, my cock rushing to attention. She smelled like sex and blood, like everything that set my veins alight. My nose and lips were brushing against the smooth, unmarked skin of her neck, and I could feel her pulse thrumming. Her arms were winding around me, her hips pressing up, and she turned to the side, exposing more of her neck to me.

Don’t.

It was the only word I could think, but it didn’t make sense, because she was here and she wasmine?—

Not. Yours.

I panted, pulling back and licking my lips, shaking my head. Her eyes were hooded, her cheeks flushed, blood in her hair, on her chin from where she must have bitten that alpha she took down. Her skirt had bunched up, showing off the pale skin of her thighs in those damned stockings. My cock grew painfully hard. She looked wild. Feral, even, a look I’d only ever seen paired with golden eyes—I didn’t know if it was biology or just that gold packs were more likely to be pushed to the edge.

“Juniper,” I growled, and I swear her scent grew stronger. “Why thefuckdo you smell like you’re still in heat?”

Her eyes snapped open, the familiar furious glare aimed at me, only slightly dazed, as she turned her head. We’d settled in a place where my cock was lined up against her soaked panties, every movement rubbing against my erection. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from rutting frantically against her.

“Didn’t. Finish," she finally panted, and I could feel her growing hotter beneath me, her hands curling in my shirt, tugging me closer.

“What?” I gritted out. The fuck?

She’d left uswithout finishing her heat?

How was that even possible?

Not to mention the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.

“Are. You. Fucking. Deaf!" she snarled, before shuddering and letting out another beautiful siren-like whine, sweat sheening on her forehead.

And fuck her, and fuck all omegas, because there was only one way out of this. I wasn’t strong enough for anything else, and I didn’t think she was either.

“I hate you,” I growled, as I started tugging down my pants.

“Likewise.” She furiously fumbled to pull out my length, sending jitters of hot pleasure to my very core.

I thought she’d guide it straight in, but instead she stroked up and down, fingers winding around me, and the sensation built in my lower back, tightening my balls, bringing me close. I went to snarl at her again, but she wasn’t looking at my face. Instead, she was biting her lip and gazing at my straining cock head as it slid through her grasping hand.

And for one startling second, I fucking understood. We were both here, out of control, chained to our instincts and perhaps, finally, I’d met someone who hated that as much as I did.

I didn’t give her more time. I ripped off her panties and plunged inside of her waiting heat. I couldn’t go slow or gentle; there was just this, her and my anger and this unforgiving pace. She arched her back and welcomed it, welcomed me, letting me plough her within an inch of her life.

Hated her. Needed her.

And she was so fucking good. Everything about her was unfairly sexy, from the little moans she was trying to suppress to her clawing nails, biting into my back and pulling me closer. I couldn’t knot her, despite how desperately I wanted it. To push fully into her tight little cunt?—

No fucking knotting.

I was close, and I slid my fingers down, tangling in the short hair at the apex of her thighs, trying to find?—

She cried out, her body tensing, pleasure wracking through her, drawing it from me, too, as I spilled inside her. We panted together, her fingers slowly releasing and brushing up and down my back.

For a moment, I relaxed.Finally,I’d forgotten it was possible to feel so… peaceful. So free. All the anger that had been building up in me had dissipated, excised by a blood-soaked goddess.

She was pushing against me; pushing me off her.

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