Page 46 of Run Little Omega

"You've killed for me," I say, remembering the brutalized alpha bodies I've found throughout the forest. "Arranged them as warnings."

"I've torn apart anyone who dared think they could have you." No remorse colors his voice, only savage satisfaction. "And I'll do it again. As many times as necessary."

Our eyes lock across the clearing, something electric passing between us. My body responds to his presence with shameful eagerness—heat flaring, muscles tensing with anticipation, every nerve ending heightened. The omega in me recognizes this alpha as compatible, as worthy, as mine.

"Why me?" I demand, fighting through the haze of biological imperative. "There are dozens of omegas in this forest. Why focus on one?"

His lips curl back from his teeth in something too feral to be called a smile. "Because you're the only one who matters." He moves closer, each step deliberate. "I saw through your little deception from the first moment. Copper hair. Amber eyes. The strength in your stance—no proper omega stands like that."

Each description feels like fingers trailing across my skin. "You have no idea how much I resent it—being brought to my knees by an omega playing dress-up in another's clothes."

The forest stirs around us, silver leaves rustling with secrets passed from branch to branch. I become aware of a subtle shift—the woods are conspiring with him, paths closing behind me while opening before him, herding me toward some inevitable confrontation.

"You're manipulating the forest," I accuse.

"I'm not the only one," he counters, eyes narrowing. "It responds to you too. To us together. Something in our blood calls to older magic than the courts can control." His voice drops lower. "They told me rut was a weakness—that it would age me, diminish my power. They lied. I've never felt stronger, never seen more clearly."

I take a deliberate step sideways, testing his claim. Sure enough, branches shift to block my path, while clearing the way toward him.

"This isn't fair," I say, frustration building.

"Fair?" He laughs again, the sound scraping along my nerves like a blade. "Was it fair when you walked into that circle wearing another's face but carrying a scent that's burned itself into my dreams? Was it fair when you looked me in the eye like no omega has dared for centuries?" His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "The Hunt was never fair. But neither is this...cravingyou've infected me with."

Another step brings him closer, close enough that I can catch his scent—winter wind and metal and musk that makes my knees weaken with want. I retreat automatically, back pressing against a tree trunk that wasn't there moments before.

"You're afraid," he says, nostrils flaring as he scents my fear beneath the heavy perfume of heat. "Good. You should be."

"And why is that?" I manage, fighting to maintain clarity as heat surges through me the closer he gets.

"Because I'm going to claim you." The simple declaration carries absolute certainty. "Not tonight. Not until you're ready to admit what we both know—that you want this as much as I do." His eyes rake over me, leaving heat in their wake. "But make no mistake, little deceiver. This ends only one way."

The words should infuriate me, should trigger every defensive instinct I've honed through years of hiding what I am. Instead, they send a treacherous thrill through my core, the omega in me responding to his dominance with visceral need.

"I've spent my life avoiding alphas like you," I say, chin lifting in defiance that costs me dearly. "What makes you think I'll surrender now?"

"Because I'm nothing like the alphas you've avoided." He's close enough now that I can feel the cold emanating from his skin—not the lifeless chill of winter, but the potent, tingling frost of raw magic. "And because what’s growing between us has nothing to do with surrender and everything to do with fate.”

A branch breaks beneath my foot as I try to maintain distance between us. His head turns sharply at the sound, nostrils flaring as he scents the air. His pupils expand further, nearly eliminating the ice-blue iris.

"Your heat is growing stronger,” he says, voice dropping to something rough and primal. "Soon you won't be able to run anymore."

He's right. Each heartbeat brings a fresh wave of desperate need, my body burning from within as the moon's influence pushes my heat to unbearable intensity. Between my thighs, dampness makes movement uncomfortable, fabric clinging to oversensitive skin with every step.

"I didn't survive eleven years in hiding to become breeding stock for any alpha, even a prince," I say, though the weakness in my voice betrays me.

"Breeding stock?" He snarls, genuinely angry now. "If that's all I wanted, I could have claimed any omega in this forest." Ice crystals form around his clenched fists, spreading up his forearms in patterns that match those on my skin exactly. "Seven centuries I've resisted rut, maintained control while other alphas succumbed to base instinct. I've watched generations of my line age and weaken because they couldn't master their biology."

His voice drops lower, rougher. "And then you appeared, and it was like being struck by lightning. Everything they warned me about—the loss of control, the primal hunger, the obsessive need to claim—all of it descended at once." His next words emerge as if torn from somewhere deep inside. "Do you have any idea how much I hate myself for wanting you? How much I resent this power you have over me?"

For the first time, I glimpse something beyond the predator stalking me through endless night—a being caught in a transformation as dramatic and unwanted as my own. The realization creates unexpected sympathy within me, even as I curse his name.

“Then let me go," I suggest, seizing on this moment of vulnerability. "We both fight what's happening. Let's continue that fight separately."

His laugh is bitter, edged with resignation. "Too late for that." He gestures to the matching cillae on our skin. "Whatever this is between us, it's already begun. The claiming will happen—the only question is when."

I want to deny his words, to reject the implication that some force beyond our control draws us together. But the evidence spreads across my skin in glowing testimony even I can’t ignore.

Our eyes lock across the clearing, something electric passing through the air. He makes no move to close the final distance between us, though every line of his body communicates how much the restraint costs him.

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