Page 31 of Claimed By the Feral Wolves

“We want her,” the feral with the dark hair and incredible blue eyes says.

I put a hand on Ezra’s back to try and steady myself, but my knees are feeling weak. Two more men are claiming me? No. No. This can’t be happening. I have my cabin. I have my quiet woods. My plan was perfect. All I had to do was get out of here without a mate.

When both ferals move at the same time, trying to rush towards me, Ezra jolts forward to stop them, and I sway, feeling faint, only to be caught by a large hand, which sends a jolt through me. A jolt of power unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

It’s Brock. The ultima. Touching me. His power is too much to be near. His presence is the last thing I want right now.

I might just throw up.

“Don’t stop us from reaching our mate,” the auburn-haired feral says, his gaze blazing with anger.

“She’s not yours,” Ezra snaps back at him.

“Don’t tell us who our mate is,” the feral argues back, breathing hard, fists clenched.

Ezra, Cayson, and the two ferals are suddenly shouting at one another, shoving and cursing and generally getting ready to fight. Muscles are tense. The air sizzles with testosterone. And I’m just standing there, trying not to faint.

“Stop,” Brock says, and they immediately halt what they’re doing, turning to him and lowering their heads in deference. “There is a process to this,” he says, finally releasing me when he realizes I can stand on my own. “Feral or not, you are to follow our directives. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” the auburn-haired one says, while the one with black hair just grunts his agreement.

Brock draws himself up taller. “The rules of The Selection are clear. Alphas and ferals are encouraged to take their time claiming their omegas, because declaring an omega is as good as making her your mate. That is why we give a long Selection period, so alphas, ferals, and omegas can get to know each other. So males can be absolutely sure before claiming an omega. But after a claiming, the only way a bond will not work is if all the males claiming the omega cannot bond themselves, which is why even after you claim a mate, you will remain here until the end of The Selection. So, are you certain you want to claim this omega within moments of meeting her? Are youthatcertain that she’s your fated mate?”

“Yes,” the dark-haired feral says without hesitation.

The one with auburn hair looks at me and smiles. “Absolutely.”

Brock sighs, then continues, “Then we should go on to the next important part about males interacting with females here. Omegas are the most delicate of us. Easily frightened. Weak constitutions. We are to cherish and protect them, asthey are the backbone of the family—our means to continue our bloodlines successfully. If you don’t honor them, you’ll be removed from this Selection. Understood?”

All of them, including Cayson and Ezra, mumble their agreement, and I can’t help but wonder where this attitude was from the ultimas when I had bruises from Kurt’s hands around my neck. If only he had come after me in broad daylight, like the ferals, but Kurt is far too clever to do something like that.

The four men’s gazes are swinging from Brock to me, like no matter what Brock is saying their goal is to still get to me, or to keep the two men from me. Brock might be able to command them into obeying him, but it’s clear the problem isn’t really solved.

Brock continues, “This omega may be your mate, but she is to be handled like a person, and not as an object. Do you understand.”

There’s something in the air. A warning or a threat, I’m not sure.

“Oye,” the auburn-haired one says. “We’re feral, not deaf, man.”

The entire field goes silent as everyone waits to see what Brock might do to someone who dares to speak to him that way—and especially a feral. After a tense moment, Brock just lets out a low chuckle, which makes a few others let out stress laughs.

“Now, all of you, including the omega, come with me.”

12

Xander

The woman standing in front of me, with the long blonde hair, as different from my black locks as can possibly be, and piercing, discerning eyes—she is my mate. My body knew it the moment I laid eyes on her, and I feel that we are the same. We have both gone through bad things. Together we can share the burden of terrible memories, but also create a happier life together. Create a family.

From this moment on, she is my everything. She is my mate, my only reason for continuing to breathe, and I will make it clear to these alphas that there is nothing they can do to keep us apart.

But even though I know this, and it should be obvious to everyone around us after our claim, the ultimas and these alphas are standing between me and my mate. Every time her gaze darts to mine, I feel the instinct to take her and run. But there’s something in the way she looks at me that makes me hesitate to do such a thing, and I realize that it might be fear.

Does my mate fear me?

I glance down at myself. It is true that I might be frightening to a tiny wolf like her. My rough appearance. My rough ways. Ihave never learned to be gentle, but I will learn to be gentle for her.

Once these men get out of my way.

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