Page 4 of Omega's Reign

“Holly,” he murmurs, his muscles tightening and bunching, cording his muscular arms that drop to my waist, hugging me closer.

“I’m dripping for you,” I say boldly, no longer holding back my reserve. “I want your knot. Give it to me.”

My words coax a growl from Beckett’s lips, and he smashes them harder to mine, nipping my pout between his teeth. I groan at the sensation, rocking against him until I feel the bunched-up fabric of his pants stiffen even more, allowing me to press down harder.

I reach between us and mess with the button on his dress pants, wishing the dumb thing was easier to snap free. It’s taking too long. I feel as if I will explode if I don’t get what I want.

Beckett breaks away from my mouth and kisses my neck. “Holly, if this is what you want—”

“I’ve been dying for you, Beckett. I was starting to think that maybe I was too much. This whole situation was too much. You know I’ve been thinking about feeling you inside me since our first night alone in this palace.” My confession pours from my lips, each word more breathless than the last. “You know it also holds back the others. Only Jordan isn’t following tradition.”

“You’ve slept with Jordan?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

“Yes.” I don’t stop grinding against him, letting his mind wander for a moment. He doesn’t sound upset, more like he’s intrigued by the idea.

“He didn’t tell me. I hope he’s good to you. Ensuring you come first.” Beckett tangles his fingers in my hair, combing them against my scalp as I finally manage to free his cock, pulling it out to thump against my bare pelvis.

We both moan so freaking loud that I’m sure the entire palace heard us. It’s as if everything comes flooding out at once, our closeness bringing ecstasy even before we touch.

“I’m still aching from before the meeting,” I whisper, lacing my fingers around his girth.

He sucks in a breath. “I knew I smelled him—”

Something crashes from the hallway before my window shatters. Beckett instinctively rolls off me, flying to his feet protectively. This isn’t the first time someone has attacked the palace. I’m sure it won’t be the last time either. It’s happened at least three times since I’ve permanently moved in, and I’m sure one of the alphas was too upset about the task I gave them.

Reaching for my bedside table, I pull out the small gun and click off the safety. None of the alphas ever expect me to fight back, but my brothers have been training me for years. I might be a supposed docile omega, but I can use almost any weapon given to me. And now that I have grown desensitized toward attacks, and my aim is more accurate, my hands no longer shake like they used to. I don’t even scream. All I do is suppress my annoyance and follow Beckett’s lead.

He heads toward my closet door, the grand dressing room even more expansive than my last. It’s been converted into the entry of a panic room, hidden behind racks of clothes.

The door to my suite crashes open, and I jerk my attention to one of the guards falling onto my gleaming hardwood floors, sliding across until he hits the rug. Another guard aims a gun he’s not supposed to have and shoots the beta in the stomach, a gruesome wound that might be the death of him.

Without thinking, I raise my gun and shoot, the perfect accuracy taking the man out, leaving blood and brain matter sprayed across my wall.

“Get into the panic room. Now!” Beckett commands, stealing the gun from my fingers. He looks ready to rush into the hallway, leaving our loyal guard bleeding out on the floor.

But loyalty is hard to find. I need my staff and my people to know that I don’t hide from danger. I don’t hide from anyone. These alphas do. That’s why they send others to complete tasks that they’re incapable of. The cowards.

“Scope out the hall and call for medical,” I say, ignoring Beckett’s pointed finger. “I’m staying with the guard.”

Beckett knows better than to argue, though he responds with a deep, frustrated growl loud enough to vibrate across my skin. “God damn it, princess. That’s not protocol. Your brothers—”

“Chose not to take this territory. It is mine. So do as I say.” I kneel beside the sputtering guard and press my hands to his stomach.

Beckett growls again, but he doesn’t stop me. He heads to the open door and peeks his head out, assessing the situation. Pulling out his phone, he murmurs into the line, but I can’t hear over the cries of the beta.

“You’re going to be okay. We have medical coming. Just keep your focus on me. What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve had a chance to formally meet.” Because I’ve been isolated. The Silversteins don’t trust anybody, though they have to rely on others to help with security. Unfortunately, this will probably make them even more paranoid and make them try to keep me away from the rest of the world completely. But I won’t return to that life. I won’t. I’ve spent too much time locked away and hidden because that’s what my brothers thought was the best to save me from the life my father wanted to bestow on me, even knowing that it would be brutal and my existence would fall into the hands of abusive, controlling men.

“Seth,” the man says, losing color with every passing second. “I don’t want to die.”

I keep the pressure on his stomach, trying my best to stay calm with his pleas. “You’re not going to die. Medical will be here any second. I promise.”

“She’s right,” Wesley says, his voice like an answer to my silent prayer. “I’m here. I’ll get you stable as we prep for surgery. The doctors are all ready for you, Seth. You’re a good man. You have done well.”

Hands lock under my arms and pull me from the ground only to have Wesley and another silent beta fill my place to help the man.

“Come on, princess. Into the panic room. The threat seems to be over, but I’m not taking any more chances. That guard you shot was thoroughly vetted. Someone had to have given him a good reason to turn against us, which means they might have tried to bribe someone else. We’re going to have to go into lockdown until we can interview everyone again. We need to look over the footage.” Beckett presses his lips together, his frown lowering his eyebrows on his forehead.

If his emotions weren’t racing, I’d argue with him. I’d fight and demand that I be present for everything, but he looks ready to throw me over his shoulder and carry me into the panic room. I know better than to make things harder. I don’t have to be a brat for the sake of it. I can let him handle things. It’s going to be a work in progress before I truly take the reins over our territory’s security—if ever.

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