Page 85 of Desperate Omega

The charging alpha stops dead in his tracks. A hatchet is embedded in his face. He gurgles briefly, then collapses, dead.

I let myself roll off of Anton’s body and look in the other direction. The double doors at the end of the corridor have been flung open, and a horde of alphas are pouring in, their faces and bodies gleaming with steel piercings. They are from the Central Ruins Tribe. They are here to save us. But there is one alpha who is closer than all the others, and he doesn’t have any piercings at all.

“Markus!” I cry. “You came!”

He looks as though he has been to hell and back again. He’s covered in bruises and cuts, and some of them look too old to have been sustained during the battle outside. His skin is pale, and he has dark rings around his eyes, as if he hasn’t slept in a long, long time. He walks toward me, then drops to his knees and gathers me in his arms.

“You’re alive,” he whispers, holding me tight. “Thank the Source, you’re alive.”

“So are you,” I say, holding onto him just as tightly.

Around us, alphas of the Central Ruins Tribe are securing the interior of the prison. Some of them are seeing to Thorus, while others are stepping past me and Markus to free Brik from his chains. The Farlanders have all either been killed or chased away.

“I hated to leave you,” Markus says. “I didn’t want to do it, but when I saw those Farlanders with the dart-guns, I knew I would never stand a chance alone. If I tried to fight them, I would either be killed or captured… and then I wouldn’t be able to save you.”

“I understand,” I tell him. “You did the right thing, Markus. I’m so proud of you, and… I love you.”

“I love you, Syra” he whispers.

Then he claims my mouth with a hard kiss that communicates far more than words ever could. Love doesn’t even begin to describe the feelings I have for him and Thorus and Brik. The four of us are a pack now. Our souls are joined as one.

I just wish our bodies were joined too.

My painful heat has not diminished. The fight gave me a rush of adrenaline, and that masked my urges for a minute there. But now the adrenaline is fading, and my heat is returning, burning inside me even more brightly now that Markus is here.

As we finish our kiss, I reach up and stroke his jaw.

“Will you do something for me?” I ask.

“Anything, Syra. What do you need?”

“I need you,” I tell him. “And Thorus. And Brik. I need you to help free them from their chains, then I need the three of you to fuck me, and I don’t want you to stop fucking me until you run out of seed.”

Markus smirks. “I don’t think I’ll ever run out, Syra. Not around you.”

“In that case,” I say, “I guess you’ll just have to keep fucking me forever.”

It sounds like an alright way to spend eternity.

CHAPTER 35: SYRA

Ten days later…

I think this must be my favorite time of day. That brief hour between afternoon and evening, when the warm sunshine comes slanting in through the towers of the Central Ruins, glimmering off what shards of glass still remain in the windows like daggers of gold, making the leaves of the wall-vines glow like green fire. It’s the sort of thing you wish could last forever, but it only lasts a little while, and I guess that’s part of the charm.

Plus, you know it will return again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.

I am walking down the wide central aisle that cuts through the center of the Ruins. It used to be a road, and there are still quite a few cars parked along the sides, but none of them work anymore. They are just silent, rusted out husks, surrounded by tufts of green weeds that have sprouted up through the cracks in the pavement. Here and there, packs of alphas in animal-skin loincloths are building campfires for the coming night, while others stroll along the sidewalks, spears leaning on their shoulders as they enjoy the warm summer air and the sight of the Ruins during this wonderful golden hour.

Many of the packs have an omega with them, and the alphas cluster protectively around their female mates. I used to think I didn’t want that kind of protectiveness in my life, but over the past several days, my feelings have changed.

Now, as I walk down the road, heading toward the center of the Ruins, I too am accompanied by a pack of three protective alphas.

But these alphas are not my mates.

They are my fathers.

My first father, the biggest and oldest of the three, is the leader of the pack. With his stern demeanor and his dark hair streaked with silver, he reminds me a little of Thorus.