Page 47 of Shared Omega

He read my thoughts exactly. The idea of drinking water from the sky is so foreign to me. The rain that falls on the city hive is greasy, corrosive stuff, swimming with black ashes.

But not here in the hive.

I press my face to his palms and drink. The water is cool and clean on my lips and tongue, more pure than anything I’ve ever tasted in my life. I swallow it all and raise my head gasping.

“Want more, little one?” he purrs softly.

I nod my head, blushing at his term of endearment.

Dog smiles and strokes my cheek. He strides off to the edge to collect more rain. As he is doing so, a man-shaped shadow appears in the distance. We both tense up, but immediately relax as we realize that it is just Truk returning from his hunt with a brace of wild hares slung over his shoulder.

He steps out of the rain and into the circle of firelight before shaking the water from his body like a wet hound. I clap a hand over my mouth to hide my amusement at the sight.

But something about his animalistic nature gets me hot too, and another painful pulse of desire ripples through my body, clenching my sex.

I bite back a whimper. I need to keep it together in front of these men.

Once he’s done shaking, Truk stands erect, twisting his hips and stretching in front of the fire, absorbing its warmth.

“Not exactly hunting weather,” he says with a smile, nodding to the wet hares lying on the ground. “But I managed to nab a couple of conies before the rain really hit.”

There’s a hint of joy in his voice. He’s enjoying having company for a change.

As Truk stretches, his muscles shift and work beneath his taut, tan skin, and I can’t help but stare. Yet another wave of desire pulses in my nethermost parts, followed by shame as I know that even more of my pheromonal scent is wafting into the air.

Sure enough, Truk’s nose twitches, and a moment later I see something jump—literally jump—beneath his fur loincloth.

Something big.

“Well, let’s get these hares skinned,” Dog says.

There is a hint of annoyance in his voice, probably because Truk has returned.

The two Alphas set to work skinning the animals, Dog with my carbon-steel combat knife and Truk with his primitive dagger of napped obsidian. As I watch them, I start to get the impression that they are competing, both trying to show off their skills to impress me—to show me who will be the best at taking care of me out here in the wild.

As messed up as it sounds, that just turns me on even more.

Two dominant Alphas competing over me.

It’s totally inappropriate, and not at all in keeping with my usual attitude toward men.

I remind myself it’s just a side-effect of my new condition, and I choke back another wave of painful arousal.

Once the hare’s have been skinned, they prepare a rack and spit made of two upright sticks plus a third horizontal one to roast the meat over the fire. The smell combined with the herbs that Truk collected sets my mouth watering something fierce. It’s been a full day since I’ve eaten.

My hunger is a welcome distraction, and for a little while I’m able to forget about my body’s other little problem.

As soon as the meat is cooked, Truk lifts it off the fire and places it on a flat stone that he’s using for his cutting board. With his stone knife he divvies it up. I watch greedily, mouth watering at the sight. When he hands me a piece, I snatch it out of his hands and dig in, plowing through the meat until I have gnawed it down to the naked bone. I toss the bone away and grab another piece, tearing into that one every bit as voraciously.

I look up to find both of the Alphas staring at me over the fire in amazement.

After a moment, Truk bursts into laughter, rocking back on his butt.

“She’s a real little predator, this one!”

Dog just grins.

“Oh you have no idea,” he chuckles. “You should see her fight.”