Page 12 of Hunting Their Omega

I bit back laughter as Wynn stalked forward, narrowly avoiding a kick to the groin.

“I have to say, I’m impressed with your fire,” he said. “No matter how useless it is.”

“Stop toying with her and take the damn collar already. It’s high time we take her home,” I told Wynn.

Isolde glared at me, and I shrugged. “Better us than anyone else, little Omega. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

She huffed, craning her neck even as Wynn’s hands wrapped around the collar. He found the release, and the snip of the lock reverberated across the clearing. Wynn slipped the device over Isolde’s head, and Bishop immediately loosened his grip but didn’t let go.

Isolde’s chest rose and fell, her rage briefly visible before she snuffed it out and leaned away from Bishop.

“Congratulations,” she mocked, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at each of us.

Wynn looked down at the collar in his hands, his eyes going dark as he turned it between his fingers.

He tossed it to me, and I hissed as the freezing metal struck my palms. My eyes went to the thick red band around Isolde’s neck. It must have been agonizing.

I cursed as I realized her thin smock didn’t provide any warmth. Even though shifters had higher body temperatures, she could still freeze. Her injuries could become permanent if not given proper time to heal. Fury boiled my blood, and I tossed the collar to Bishop.

“It’s definitely spelled. The magic is layered, like someone cast it several times.”

Bishop winced when it touched his skin. “Fuck, this is dark magic. How the hell did the Council get their hands on it?”

Witches and shifters had kept to their own lands since the war. Crossing of the species was forbidden though there was talk thatthings like that happened on unsanctioned land. Unsanctioned and rogue wolves in need of protection sometimes got desperate and offered their services to witches, and vice versa.

Before anyone could respond, Isolde doubled over. A whimper—more wolf than human—fell from her lips. Her scent deepened, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop myself from taking her right there. Judging by the clenched muscle of Wynn’s jaw and the tremble in Bishop’s hands, they felt the same.

It wouldn’t be long before our Omega went into a full-blown heat. If this was just what the onset smelled like, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like in a few days or maybe a week when her true heat began.

Bishop reached for her, and she took his hand instinctually, leaning on him for support.

“Let’s get you out of the cold,” he said softly.

Her teeth sank into her plush bottom lip as she contemplated her answer. “Okay,” she finally replied. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 5

Isolde

“Let me carry you,” Bishop said as the others stopped ahead.

Their eyes followed me, and the smell of their lust mixed with mine. Goddess, I hated them.

I hated everything about this.

My wolf mewled and writhed, desperate to satisfy the rising need between my legs.

It didn’t help that they were all gorgeous. Masculine, hard, and dominant—a combination I thought I would despise. Instead, I found the most feminine parts of me reaching toward them.

If Bishop wasn’t so sexy and my feet weren’t so mangled, I would probably refuse. But I didn’t have that luxury, and ultimately, I was caught.

I was theirs whether I resisted or not, and I only had one purpose in our dynamic.

I nodded, and Bishop instantly closed the distance between us. He clutched the back of my thighs in his large, rough hands and hoisted me into his arms.

A humiliating moan escaped my lips. His body stiffened in response, and the engorged length of him rubbed against my ass. The thin fabric of my tunic was all that separated us.

My face flamed, and I searched for something to say to hide my embarrassment.

---