Page 62 of Run Little Omega

The distance between us closes with alarming speed. Cadeyrn moves through the forest with inhuman grace, covering ground in mere minutes. The bond between us pulses stronger as he draws nearer. I push myself harder, determined to make this chase memorable even if it’s brief.

I've just scrambled up a steep embankment when the air around me suddenly cools. I spin around, looking for an escape, but it's already too late.

Cadeyrn stands at the base of the rise I just climbed, his transformed body outlined against the forest behind him. Since our first claiming, his changes have progressed—musculature more defined, cillae covering greater expanses of skin, his jawline sharp and prominent, as if rut has made him that much more masculine in every way.

The sight of him triggers another surge of heat through my core. My traitorous body recognizes its alpha and responds instantly, inner muscles contracting in anticipation.

"That was quick," I manage, struggling to keep my voice steady.

His smile is predatory, all sharp teeth and ancient hunger. "Did you think you could outrun me, little deceiver?" He stalks up the embankment with fluid grace, not even winded by the chase. "Or did youwantto be caught?"

I retreat, maintaining distance though we both know it's futile. "Maybe I just wanted to get the fuck away from you.”

"Liar." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he scents the air. "Your arousal betrays you. The chase excited you."

Heat floods my cheeks at the truth I can't deny. "That's just biology."

"Is it?" He moves closer, each step deliberate, frost blooming beneath his bare feet. "I can distinguish between heat's demands and genuine desire. Your scent carries both."

I continue backing away until I feel something solid behind me—a flat stone surface, waist-high and radiating warmth. Glancing back, I realize I've encountered an ancient altar—moss-covered stones arranged in a pattern that vibrates with ancient purpose.

When I turn back, Cadeyrn is standing right in front of me, close enough that his winter scent overwhelms me. He raises his hand and cups it near my heated cheek, as if to stroke it, stopping just short.

"You ran beautifully," he says, voice rough with rut. "But not to escape me."

"I ran to make you chase," I admit. "I don't understand why."

"I do." His fingers finally make contact, tracing my jawline with unexpected gentleness. "The chase is as much part of the ritual as the claiming itself. The forest remembers, even when we've forgotten."

I should pull away from his touch. Should maintain the hatred that’s fed me since entering the Hunt. Instead, I find myself leaning into his hand, craving the cool relief it brings.

His free hand drops to my hip, gripping with sudden force as he lifts me effortlessly onto the stone altar. The stones seems to sing beneath me, ancient magic recognizing what's about to happen.

"Look at you," he murmurs, spreading my thighs with casual strength. "Already prepared for me."

I try to close my legs, one last token resistance. His hands clamp down on my inner thighs, holding me open with effortless power. His thumbs press into sensitive flesh, dangerously close to where I pulse with need.

"Don't fight what you want," he says, gaze fixed on the evidence of my arousal. "Your body knows its alpha."

"I'm not yours," I protest, even as my hips shift instinctively toward his touch.

"No?" He tears the flimsy fabric covering me, exposing me completely to his hungry gaze. "Then why does your body call to me? Why does your scent speak only to me?"

He sheds his own minimal clothing with savage efficiency, revealing a body transformed by rut into living sculpture. Muscle ripples beneath cillae-marked skin as he positions himself between my spread thighs. His arousal stands fully erect between us, impossibly large in the daylight—longer and thicker than should be physically possible, veins pronounced along its length, the tip flushed and engorged.

Fear flashes through me at the sight. Despite last night's claiming, I can't imagine taking something so massive again. The base hasn't fully swollen yet, but I can see the tissue already thickening, promising to expand once inside me.

"Your eyes betray you," Cadeyrn says, noticing my fixation. "Fear and desire—the perfect combination."

His hand finds my throat, establishing dominance as he leans over me. I'm pinned against the stone altar, completely at his mercy, and my eager body knows it—nipples tightening, inner muscles contracting around emptiness that demands to be filled.

I feel him pressing against me, hot and unyielding. He doesn't thrust immediately, instead sliding his cock through my slickness, the swollen head parting my folds and teasing my entrance.

"Say it," he demands, voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Tell me you want this cock inside your dripping cunt."

"I—" The words catch in my throat, pride warring with need.

His other hand tangles in my copper hair, wrenching my head back to expose my neck fully. "Say. It." Each word punctuated by slightly increased pressure, his cock-head nudging just inside before retreating. "Tell me how badly this omega pussy needs to be filled."

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