Page 7 of Feral: Part Two
That still didn’t explain the guards.
Nathan shrugs, but there's something in his expression that tells me he knows more than he's saying. "I'd tell you if I knew." He pauses, glancing between the three of us again. "I came here as your doctor, but as your friend? Keep your head down. Don't do anything stupid and protect your Omegas. I can only imagine that whatever experiment is going on in Wolfscorge is about to get a lot more interesting."
Nathan throws us a wary smile before making a beeline toward the door, none of us trying to stop him. Not that any of us are in the headspace to wrangle Nathan at this point either. I’m still trying to understand how we went from one to two pregnant Omegas that might very possibly deliver at the same fucking time.
Thane nudges my side and I look up to see Kael still fuming inches from where Nathan was. “Fuck, yeah, okay,” I mutter, making my way over to my Alpha. The tension is thick enough to slice, the power of his Alpha almost terrifying, but it’s a sweet comfort to me. Without a word, he pulls me into his chest, his arms wrapping around my back. He hums into my neck, a low rumbling sound that vibrates through both of us, and holds ontome for several seconds in complete silence. The gesture is so unlike his usual gruff demeanor that it catches me off guard.
"You seem stressed," I chuckle against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent.
"I watched Slate finger fuck our Omega before I fucked him, and then he had the audacity to saythank you," Kael says, his voice muffled against my skin.
I laugh into Kael's chest, the sound bursting out of me before I can stop it. "Sorry, that's not funny." I pull back slightly to look at him, though I'm still fighting back amusement. "Kael, he's baiting you, you know that, right?"
Kael's expression shifts, a mix of frustration and something that might be embarrassment showing up on his face. "I'm aware. Preston gave me a whole talk about it. Said that I need to start making my own gestures and shit. Preston told me to build him a den."
I know for a fact that Kael doesn't do sweet. He never has, and he probably never will. It's not in his nature to be soft or romantic, and trying to force it is only going to backfire spectacularly. The idea of him attempting to build Slate a den makes me cringe internally.
"Hey, Alpha, please, for the love of god, do not build him a den." I grip his arms to make sure he's looking at me. "Do you remember when we tried to build Preston's nest for him when he first got pregnant? He was throwing up, feverish, and could barely move without groaning, and he still pinned us with that adorable stare of his. I know Preston gave you a suggestion, but think about it," I continue. "When you put Slate in his place in the pool house, did you notice anything?"
Kael's brow furrows as he considers the question. "He hated it."
"Did he?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to really think about it.
The realization dawns on his face slowly. "Fuck."
"Slate likes a bit of the pain," I say. "He wants you to be rough, while still retaining some of the control. Make the simple gestures, definitely, but Slate doesn't want sweet. He doesn't need sweet. He just needs to know that he means something."
Slate isn't Preston. He doesn't need to be coddled or treated like delicate glass. Not that Preston needs that either, but he enjoys our softer sides. Slate's been through hell, rejected by six packs, scarred both physically and emotionally. Sweet gestures would probably make him feel patronized or pitied, which is the last thing he needs.
"I made it very clear where he stands before," Kael huffs out, his words tinged with regret.
"I know, so make it very clear that you've changed your mind," I tell him. "If you don't, you're going to be hurting more than just Preston."
As much as I hate forcing Kael into a relationship with Slate, I also know it’s inevitable. It’s never been that Kael hates our new Omega, but that he doesn’t trust easily, and Slate is an unknown. We’ve been thrown too many of those in the last several years, Kael’s sole focus on protecting Preston.
The fact that Kael’s out here while our Omegas are wrapped up together somewhere tells me how much he already trusts Slate, even if he won’t admit it.
I offer Kael a small smile, one of his hands gently wrapping around the front of my neck as his thumb brushes against my lips. I’m not sure what to do with this tender side of him, but I embrace it anyway, realizing he’s just as confused about all these changes as I am.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he muses, a smirk playing on his face. He presses the tip of his thumb into my mouth, my lips parting slightly. “Maybe about how you're over there kissing my cousin."
"Anything but that," I say quickly, hoping he'll let it drop.
“But I think I might like watching that, watching you fall apart on my cousin’s knot. Watching you scream for mercy as he takes you up against a wall. Maybe we’llbothstuff you full, knot you, and pin you between us.”
My face flames at the absurdity of Kael’s statement, but my body betrays me, Kael reaching down to cup me through my pants. His purr starts up, making my reaction even worse as my hips rock into his grip. His other hand moves to the back of my neck, squeezing just enough to make me gasp, heat bleeding through me as my Alpha holds me.
Dear god, we’re all going to be in fucking trouble.
Having two pregnant Omegas is bad enough. Having an Alpha who wants to see me stuffed with two knots is going to be utter chaos.
Malik
I somehow untangle myself from Kael, keeping my head bowed as I shuffle past Thane. He starts to make a quip but I just throw him a finger. “Quit it,” I mutter as I start working through the groceries we brought home.
Silence filters between us as I fall into a rhythm of shoving the fresh stuff into the fridge and everything else into the cabinets. It won’t last long between the five of us and I just might have to make another trip to the market before Saturday. Which would suck. Now knowing that something might be going on out there with all the guards missing, I kind of don’t want to be anywhere other than in the safety of this house.
I look up to see my Alphas at the kitchen table, spread over the same damn information about The Collective for what feels like the hundredth time. Papers are spread out between them,documents we've already memorized, photos we've analyzed until our eyes bled. I should have known that they would have used the few moments of quiet in the house to yet again jump into the biggest mystery of why we’re in Wolfscorge rather than in jail.
