Page 67 of Generation Omega: Claimed

Jameson leans into my space, practically inhaling me.I smell you, pussycat, and you are perfection.He lifts my hand and licks the soft skin on my wrist. “Later, when we have more time, I’m going to bite you right here, so I can command you to kiss our bond every time you think of me.” His grin is devilish. “I didn’t think aboutyourinability to lick our first bondmark, so we’ll be needing another.”

I know what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t working, or that I’m not grateful for the distraction. Swaying toward him, I murmur huskily, “Yes, alpha.”

“That’s about enough of that,” Gideon snaps, and shoves Jameson away, claiming me for himself.

My broody, neglected first alpha is suddenly all I can see. “We’ll be back together soon—I swear it.”

“I believe you.”

“We’ve got Ethan.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“It’s time,” Ory declares, and I turn toward him, my jaw legit dropping at the sight of him.

Holy hot dang… Ory is dressed as a mountain man, complete with a plaid flannel shirt and jeans that hug him in ways that surely violate decency laws around the globe. I can’t speak or take my eyes off him until Ethan moves between us and hugs me.

“I’ll see you soon.”

I hug him back, not speaking a word, and then Ory takes my hand in his and leads me toward the back deck.

Without stopping, he grumbles, “Don’t look around, and stay beside me.”

Then we step onto the dock and fully enter the unknown.

CHAPTER 33

ORY

She’s fidgeting. Why is she fidgeting? She doesn’t fidget like this with her other alphas. What am I missing? I push those questions at Mackenzie, who’s more present than he should be as I start the automobile.

She just left her pack, and you’re making her nervous. She’s never been alone with you—she’s hardly spoken to you.

I can’t decide whether Mackenzie is correct, but I feel the need to remind him that she’s never really been alone with him either. It was a good-sized yacht, but certainly not large enough for anyone to be alone, especially with other alphas always aware of her needs.

Say something comforting.

Okay, I’ve got this. “I look forward to disemboweling our enemies, after impaling their heads on spikes,” I declare forcefully, catching her flinch in my peripheral vision. I said something comforting—why did she flinch?

Ory, she’s not your origin omega, Queen Blood Rites and Mayhem. Try again.

Try again?Fine.“I will keep you safe, Tillie,” I growl. “I mean that.”

Tentatively, she sets her hand on my leg, deriving solace through contact. “It’s not you—it’s everything. I know you’ll keep me safe. Do you mind if I touch you?”

“Of course not,” I bark a bit too loudly for the interior of such a puny vehicle.

But this time, Tillie doesn’t react with concern. She’s smiling, though it seems like an introductory expression, not the kind she would wear for herpreciousMackenzie. “We haven’t really talked, have we? But I suppose this isn’t a great time. You’re in heightened combat mode, and I’m nervous as hell.”

Is she underestimating my abilities? Thinking I’m some simple caveman, who can’t think, talk, and kill at the same time? But I guess she doesn’t know me well enough to imagine the wealth of my capacity. I withhold none of my well-earned confidence as I educate her. “I am certainly capable of conversing with you while maintaining situational awareness and violently slaying any enemy that should seek to trouble us. I will keep my gaze trained on our surroundings though, rather than attending to you as you deserve.”

I hear her small release of breath, almost like a huffy laugh. “That’s probably for the best anyway. Not only are you smoking hot with murder in your eyes, but the way you stare at me is a little intimidating.” She quickly adds, “I get it though—I’m not judging.”

“Judgingwhat?” We’re moving along a road without much traffic, but it’s over a bridge that feels confining.

Tillie studies the setting, her eyes as grey as the sky above us. To the window, she explains, “You look at me like you’re searching for her. Like I said, I get it, but it’s strange. I mean, our situation is fully bizarre.I’mwith Mackenzie, andyou’rewith your omega who lives inside me, but you and I don’t really fit together, do we?”

I emit a string of grumbling utterances that aren’t in any language I know, but that accurately represent the complexity of our affiliation. I almost expect her to mock me for my lack of clarity, but she’s grinning when she says, “Exactly.”

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