Page 67 of Cowgirl Omega

Behind her, Logan let out a grunt of his own. His knot expanded inside her, locking their bodies together, and a hot rush of sticky fluid gushed into her hungering depths. Her pussy fluttered, milking another helping of seed from Tanner’s knot. Then her own climax crested over her, sweeping her away on a wave of pure, obliterating pleasure.

CHAPTER 32

Butch Bartram crouched atop the boulder and watched. He was not worried about being seen. His perch was well beyond the circle of light emanating from the small campfire, and his presence was further screened by the limbs and leaves of the cottonwood tree under which the others had made their camp. If one of the alphas were to glance up here, they might see the flames reflected in his eyes, but they did not.

They were too focused on the omega.

Bartram’s hand rested on the butt of the pistol at his hip. If he wanted to, he could draw and kill all three of the males before they even knew what was happening—but he didn’t want to. Too risky. If he hit the omega, it would spoil everything. They needed her alive, so she could lead the way to the firestone.

After it was all said and done, maybe he could have a little fun with her too. The fact that the other three males had already soiled her with their seed didn’t bother him in the slightest. He would do things to the woman that would make her forget those males had ever existed. Then he’d do things that would make her wish she’d never been born.

But that was for later. Tonight he had a job to do: observe, and listen.

So far, he’d already observed a great deal. He’d learned that the wolf which had killed that man a few days ago was in cahoots with Shannon Duffy. And not only that, but it could shapeshift into a man. Bartram had watched it happen a few minutes ago with his own two eyes.

He’d also confirmed what he’d suspected since yesterday—that Shannon Duffy was secretly omega. He could tell by the way the alphas were sharing her. He could tell by the band of gold around her arm.

And above all, he could tell by her scent.

Bartram had been getting a noseful of that scent all day long. The spring where Duffy and the alphas had camped the night before had reeked of it, and he’d kept getting whiffs as he tracked the riders through the desert. Now he was smelling it again, stronger than the sweat of the alphas or the smoke of the campfire drifting up through the cottonwood branches.

Ordinarily, that scent would have put Bartram into a mating frenzy, but not tonight. Before setting out on this nocturnal mission, he’d taken a couple big swallows of the potion he’d found back in the canyon. He’d done that in order to mask his scent, so these other alphas wouldn’t be able to smell him when he got close like this.

He hadn’t considered the other side effects it might have.

Here he was watching the most beautiful omega he’d ever seen get railed by three alphas at the same time, and it wasn’t turning him on in the slightest. His dick felt as cold and limp as a worm inside his britches, and his balls were so shrunken they’d all but disappeared into his body.

Oh well, those effects would wear off eventually.

Bartram watched for another minute. He’d kind of hoped he might be able to eavesdrop something about the location of the firestone, but right now the only thing Shannon and her alphas were talking about was a bunch of lovey-dovey bullshit. From the sound of things, they were going to go for another round as soon as the alphas’ knots allowed.

No point sitting here watching them rut all night. He was about to turn and climb down from the boulder, when something up on the mountain caught his eye.

Lightning?

No. Couldn’t be. There wasn’t a god damn cloud in the sky tonight.

Besides, the light hadn’t come from the sky, it had come from the mountain, as if the very rocks themselves had lit up for a second.

Bartram froze. Down below, the campfire crackled, and the campers made sounds that indicated they were mating again. He paid them no heed. His eyes were locked on the dark point where the peak of the mountain blotted out the stars. For half an hour he waited, motionless as a statue in the night.

Finally, it happened again.

This time, Bartram was looking right at it. The peak of the mountain seemed to glow with a ghostly light, and it wobbled like a reflection on rippling water. It lasted only for an instant, then all was dark again.

His heart skipped.

He glanced down to see if the alphas had noticed. They had not. They were still far too occupied with their omega.

Smiling wickedly, Bartram turned and hopped down from the boulder without a sound. He moved away from the campsite, stepping only on hard stones so his tracks would not show in the morning. Once he found what appeared to be a suitable path up the mountain, he started to climb.

* * *

It was getting close to dawn when Bartram finally made it back to Flarity’s camp. Even from a few miles away, he could tell something was wrong. The idiots had several fires burning, and to make matters worse, somebody was squalling up a storm. As Bartram came riding into camp, one of the men got spooked and tried to draw on him. Bartram snarled.

“Put that gun away. It’s me.”

“Shit. Sorry, Butch,” the man said, lowering the weapon. Bartram thought his name was Guthrie, but he couldn’t remember for sure. “I thought you was one ofthem.”

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