Page 68 of Run Little Omega

Lira's scent carries on the breeze—honey and spice with the distinctive sweetness that marks an omega during the Hunt.

Prynn's rhythm falters, becoming erratic. His head falls back, russet hair flowing down his spine as he approaches climax. "Coming," he growls, fingers digging into Lira's hips hard enough to mark. "Taking this sweet omega... Knot forming..."

Lira cries out—half ecstasy, half despair—as he locks inside her, the knot expanding to bind them together. Her body trembles, caught in her own release despite her tears. This should conclude the claiming. Hunt protocol dictates that after knotting, an alpha releases his omega to flee, to find sanctuary before another claims her.

But the Raveling Brothers clearly don’t care about rules.

"Time for the transition, brother," Prynn says, voice strained but eager as his knot continues to pulse inside Lira. "She feels exquisite. You won't want to miss this."

Blaim rises to his feet, his arousal jutting proudly as he circles around to stand behind his brother. "How shall we do it this time? The quick switch? Or the full embrace?"

"Quick switch," Prynn decides, hands still gripping Lira's hips. "She's responsive enough that momentum won't be lost."

Wait. What are they planning? My stomach knots as I realize their intention.

Lira seems to understand too, because she begins to struggle. "No," she pleads, voice breaking. "You've claimed me. Let me go. That's the rule?—"

"We create our own rules, little songbird," Blaim croons, positioning himself directly behind his brother. "And we've discovered that sharing produces the most... intense experiences."

What follows makes bile rise in my throat. Prynn grips Lira's hips and, with deliberate intention, begins to withdraw his still-knotted length from her body. She screams—a sound of genuine agony—as the expanded knot stretches her beyond natural limits.

"Wait for it," Prynn instructs his brother, voice tight with focus. "Almost... now!"

With a wet sound that curdles my blood, he yanks his knot free. Blood trickles down Lira's thighs, but before she can even gasp, Blaim surges forward, driving into her in a single brutal thrust. Her body, already stretched from Prynn's knot, takes him easily, though her cry is one of absolute torture.

"Perfect," Prynn groans, his length still hard and glistening with a mixture of his release and her arousal as he moves to kneel in front of her. "Hold her steady, brother. I want to witness her expression while you take her."

Blaim establishes a rhythm the same as his brother, each thrust precise and deep. Lira's body responds—back arching, nipples tightening, moisture gathering despite the blood—but her eyes remain distant, haunted.

I should retreat. I should run. Every instinct screams at me that I can’t possibly take on two alphas. But I can’t tear my gaze from the horror unfolding before me.

"How does she feel around you?" Prynn asks, stroking himself idly as he watches his brother claim the omega they share.

"Divine," Blaim confirms, his pace quickening. "Her muscles keep contracting—I think she’s approaching orgasm.”

"Is that true, little songbird?" Prynn lifts Lira's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Will you come for my brother as you did for me? Your body recognizes its needs, even when your mind resists."

Lira's answer is a fractured sob that might be denial, but her body betrays her—a visible shudder coursing through her as she climaxes around Blaim's driving length. The brothers' identical smiles blend triumph and malice.

"There it is," Prynn purrs, leaning forward to taste a tear from her cheek. "The sweetest melody of all."

Blaim's rhythm grows urgent, his approaching release evident in the tension of his frame. "Going to knot her," he announces, voice strained. "Going to fill her just as you did."

"Do it," Prynn encourages, hand moving faster on his own length. "Let's see if we can make her sing for both of us."

I watch in horrified fascination as Blaim's knot begins to swell, stretching Lira's entrance for the second time. Her sounds grow more desperate as she's forced to take him, her body responding with unwilling pleasure even as her mind visibly seeks escape. When the knot locks fully inside her, both brothers groan in unison—Blaim from his release, Prynn from witnessing it.

"Exquisite," Blaim gasps, still pumping into the trapped omega. "She's squeezing me like she wants to drain every drop."

"She'll have another opportunity soon," Prynn promises, fully hard again despite having just emptied himself. "Once your knot subsides, we transition again."

Again? They plan to pass her back and forth, knotting her in turns? This isn't mere claiming. This is monstrous, beyond even the Hunt's brutal norms.

I need to intervene. Now.

My gaze scans the clearing, seeking anything to disrupt their ritual. A rotting tree limb hangs precariously above them, barely attached to its trunk—nature providing the perfect solution.

The claiming bond flares with sudden awareness—Cadeyrn must sense my intent through our connection. He doesn't want me interfering, doesn't want me risking exposure. Too bad. I may be claimed, but my decisions remain my own.

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