Page 3 of Omega's Reign

“If they would actually respond to me like I’m on their level, then I wouldn’t have to push. You know not even one of them willingly addresses me. I don’t know why I even try. My brothers were wrong. You should be head of our territory.” I slump onto my bed and spread my arms out dramatically. I’m still waiting for him to get the hint that I’d rather have this conversation without space between us.

“Beckett as the leader of Platinum Shores? Fuck that.” Isaiah strolls past Beckett and enters my suite without needing to be invited. Again, I look at Beckett, but he remains firm in his spot. And he says I’m the infuriating one. He’s such a gentleman when I want him to be a growly, determined alpha.

“There is only one person I want to bow at the feet of, and it’s you, Holls.” Isaiah drops to one knee next to my bed and grabs my hand, kissing the back of it.

I roll over onto my side and smile at him, our fingers now intertwined, our lips only inches apart. But he won’t kiss me. It’s one of the things I so desperately want but he’s waiting. He wants to sweep me off my feet. To ensure that I really want him by my side as part of the new Platinum Shores Pack. Because according to the Saint Vista Pack Regimes, he is still a Silverstein and I’m still a part of the Gilded Sands Pack, who have just acquired this territory. It won’t be completely solidified until I officially accept the crown and marry. That sort of bond is what makes us an official pack of Platinum Shores.

It’s still weird to me that I have a choice. That they have to ask me for my hand and haven’t yet. I think my brothers have something to do with it, but they won’t admit to it. They should know better than anyone. The heart knows what it loves even before the head. And when I met the Silversteins in that tiny diner on an adventure with my brother and his omega, Kinsey, I knew these men were to be in my life. It’s why they’re my consorts and my advisors with the help of my brothers.

“And I’m happy to have you bow, Isaiah. Maybe you can get Beckett to do it as well.” I grin and twitch my fingers, curling and uncurling them until Beckett finally steps forward, taking my silent gesture as an invitation.

He doesn’t get on board though and instead pulls the chair from my empty desk and drags it closer. I have so often dreamed about having these men in my bed, but only Jordan has ever taken my flirtatious bait. I haven’t really had a chance to ask any of them about it, because it seems that there’s always one meeting after another, and when I do have free time, they don’t.

I hope for it to change. I almost want to stop taking my suppressant pills to guarantee it. I know what I want, but I’m afraid that maybe the Silversteins don’t. I have no other real explanation.

“Bowing does not show my loyalty and admiration of you, Holly. You have told me time and time again that you want to be my equal, and that is exactly what I see you as.” Beckett reaches forward and caresses his fingers through my hair, combing the light strands behind my ear. “Isn’t that what you said?”

Isaiah tips his head back and laughs. Swinging his fist, he punches Beckett in the bicep. “This isn’t about equality. This is about showing Holly exactly what we’re willing to do for her. Plus, I hear she loves it best seeing us on our knees. Isn’t that right, Holls?” He winks at me and gives me a long once-over.

Flush burns across my cheeks, knowing that he’s insinuating my intimate relationship with Jordan. Beckett might know, but if he does, he doesn’t comment on it. It is out of the norm for a beta, especially the younger brother of an alpha, to claim an omega before the alpha.

“It’s a stress relief,” I say, biting my lip between my teeth.

“Are you feeling more stress than normal?” Beckett asks, sitting up straighter in his chair, turning from stoic to concerned in a matter of seconds.

He must not know about me and Jordan, because he’s obviously concerned that I’m under a lot of pressure. But it’s not what Isaiah was even talking about.

I lift and drop my shoulders, flicking my attention to Isaiah and then back to Beckett. “Maybe. I just…I could use a massage. That meeting with the alphas has me tense.” I soften my voice with my words.

“I can book—”

“Damn, Becks. Get your head out of your ass and look at our beautiful omega. Don’t look at her as the ruler of Platinum Shores. Look at her as our sexy, strong, independent woman who just wants a little relaxation.” Isaiah rests his hand on my leg, sending tingles through my body. “You sometimes have to be direct with Beckett. Maybe even whimper a little.”

I puff out my bottom lip and release a small hum under my breath. “Like this?” I tease, batting my eyelashes.

Beckett purrs from deep in his chest, the noise unlike anything I’ve ever heard come from him, and it goes straight to my core, turning me on in an unexpected way.

“Isaiah, will you please excuse us? I need to have a private word with Holly.” Beckett stands, towering over Isaiah and me. He motions toward the door. “Get Jordan and Wesley and prepare the census given to us by the Pack Regimes. I want it ready for when the alphas turn in what they have to compare and verify with our numbers.”

“As long as you promise to give her that damn massage she craves,” Isaiah says, stroking his fingers down to my knee until he plants his hand on the bed to push up from the floor.

He exits my suite, smiling as he turns around once and winks again. He closes the door softly, and I sit up on my bed and turn to Beckett. The concern on his face vanishes, and he flares his nostrils, inhaling a deep breath at my closeness.

“Holly…”

I don’t let him gather his thoughts and lean forward, brushing my lips to his.

He eagerly accepts my affection, sliding his big hand up my neck to cup my cheek, smoothing his fingers over my skin. There’s just something magical about being with Beckett—with an alpha—that I know is mine, even if we haven’t bonded like I want yet.

Maybe that will change now.

Right now.

Because Beckett said he was treating me like his equal, and to him, maybe that means he wants me to act like an alpha. Push for what I want. Take what I need.

Except I’m not an alpha. I’m an omega, and all I desire is for him to treat me as such in this moment. Not like how the former Pack Regime leaders expected omegas to be treated, but how I know I should be treated—adored, cherished, given what my body wants and craves and burns for as slick dampens between my legs on my thighs. My lack of underwear only makes it worse, the tingles of lust tangling through me, begging me to lie back and expose myself. My body silently demands exactly what I want, especially when Beckett isn’t quick to give in.

Gathering my dress, I hike it up and climb onto Beckett, the breeze of the fabric shifting enough to waft my scent around us.

---