Page 10 of Hunting Their Omega

Dirt clung to her round face, and her cheeks, nose, and supple lips were tinged pink from the cold. Long black hair fell below her breasts, the ends dancing in the bitter wind as her wary blue eyes traced the rise and fall of my chest.

I bounded toward her and used my snout to herd her away from the river, hoping she could sense that I wouldn’t harm her. Her shoulders curled in at the faintest touch, and fear laced her creamy scent, searing the edges and turning it sour.

The copper tang of blood and the acrid note of her terror tainted the sugary sweetness of her slick. I shifted into my human skin as the unmistakable whimper of a defeated wolf rang through the clearing, quickly followed by a resounding thwack. The valley went quiet, and I sensed Wynn and Bishop’s victory through our bond.

The Omega flinched as I reached out my hand.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned.

I frowned and crouched to her level. Her eyes traveled down my body, widening at my hard, bobbing length before snapping back to my face. Wynn and Bishop joined me as wolves, and she glowered at the three of us.

“We’re not going to hurt you.” I tilted my head to the side and flashed her a sheepish smile. “I just want to check you over. You’re bleeding.”

Wynn and Bishop shifted, their bones cracking and rearranging in the span of a heartbeat, and her eyes flitted between them when they stood before her. Her pupils dilated as another wave of heat and lust made my head swim. Wynn growled beside me, and Bishop stiffened.

“She’s hurt,” Bishop said, his voice soft with concern.

I wondered if the soothing tone was solely for our Omega’s benefit.

Ignoring him, I kept my attention on her. I gave her a quick assessing glance and saw lacerations on her calves and the soles of her bare feet. Why hadn’t she shifted?

“I’m going to check your feet now, okay?”

She nodded after a moment.

Slowly, I took her ankle in my hands and examined her foot. Her skin was scraped raw, and I winced at the cuts on her inflamed flesh.

Bishop hissed behind me.

“Why didn’t you shift?”

Wynn’s question was almost accusing, and she pulled her foot back, trying to create distance. Her eyes darted between us like she was still figuring out what to make of our unit.

“Wynn,” Bishop chastised.

“Ignore Wynn,” I said to her. “He’s still working on manners.”

“Don’t baby her. She could have seriously hurt herself because she stupidly chose to run on two legs instead of four.”

“Fuck you!” she spat. “I didn’t choose anything. Not one single moment of this Goddess-forsaken Hunt has ever been my choice. I didn’t want to run in the damned cold. I tried to shift, but I can’t.”

Bishop blinked, recovering from the shock of her outburst before we did. He stepped around me to kneel at her side, and I didn’t miss the way she glanced between his legs.

“What do you mean you can’t shift?” he asked.

“You’re lame?” Wynn asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

I glared at him, and he had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he muttered reluctantly.

The Omega turned to Bishop, ignoring Wynn completely, and said, “I think it’s the collar. Every time I call my wolf, it’s like there’s a wall between us, keeping us apart.”

Magic.

My wolf growled at the thought.

“That’s an easy fix,” Wynn said, reaching for her collar.

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