Page 18 of Hunting Their Omega

Chapter 7

Isolde

Bonding with Wynn, Bishop, and Alaric was . . . indescribable.

Unfathomable.

My anger and fear shifted to lust during the Hunt, but as I sat in the backseat of their Jeep on the way to Hidden Creek, my nerves returned. Alaric gazed out the window, a proprietary hand settled on my knee as if he were afraid I’d run away. Wynn was driving, and Bishop rode shotgun.

It was quiet.

But what could I possibly say to the three men who’d fucked my horny little Omega brain senseless? How did I strike up a conversation after they’d seen me splayed and bare and begging for them?

Goddess, it was mortifying.

And though I knew I should be worried about what my life in Hidden Creek would entail, I could only think of the three males in front of me.

My wolf was infatuated with their scents, content in their presence as if this were something she’d always hoped for.

I absently rubbed my chest. The bond hummed behind my ribs, each individual thread braiding into a single cord that led backto me. Despite the tightly woven connections, I could effortlessly determine which thread belonged to whom.

“What does it feel like for you?” Alaric asked suddenly.

My hand dropped to my lap. “It’s . . . strange. Warm.” I could feel the others listening, their focus apparent through the bond. “It’s like I can feel all of you at once right here in my chest—in a place I didn’t know existed.” I met Alaric’s gaze. “What’s it like for you?”

He blinked, surprised by the question. It was almost as if he wasn’t expecting me to ask. “It’s a little different. We’ve been bonded since puberty, like all male units—”

I leaned in, intrigued. “All units bond that early? What for?”

“It’s to strengthen our connection and establish who and what we are to each other, individually and together,” Bishop said, turning to face me. “But it evolves when an Omega is introduced.”

“Our bond is a little different now that you’re a part of it. It was strong before, but there was still something missing,” Alaric said, “Now, with you, it feels complete—like filling your lungs with air after spending your life underwater.”

My gaze collided with Wynn’s in the rearview mirror. His icy blue eyes softened before he glanced away.

Their openness gave me courage.They’re my mates, I reminded myself.They won’t hurt me.

So, I did something the boarding house frowned upon—something that would’ve gotten me locked up in the detention hall for days on end.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked tentatively.

The car went still. Deathly still.

Their shock echoed through the bond, followed by a spike of anger.

White-hot panic set me aflame, and I immediately backtracked. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I was just . . . wondering,” the final word came out as a whisper.

“Hey,” Alaric’s voice was like melted marshmallows, warm and smooth as he turned my face to his with the crook of his finger. “We’re not going to do anything with you. You’re our mate.”

Even I could feel my confusion leaking down the bond, followed by the embarrassment that came from projecting that emotion so loudly. I made a mental note to learn how to shield my emotions.

“What did you think we were going to do?” Wynn asked, his face carefully blank.

I considered how much to reveal. Would they think I was stupid for not knowing?

My weakness lit a fire within me, borne of the same embers that kept my dignity intact during my years at the boarding house.

I shoved down the instinctual need to please my mates and gripped that kernel of independence, of resistance.

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