Trying to settle my spiraling nerves, I inhale deeply, but it has the opposite effect. Killian’s intense scent of cherries and whiskey fills my nose, making my pulse quicken and my mouth water.
I do love cherries. Especially, soaked in rum. I’ve never had them with whiskey. My mother always said any burn of the alcohol ruins the sweetness, but Killian smells so good. It’s a sharp woodsy aroma, with subtle hints of sweetness.
But none of that matters.
Even with his wonderful scent, Killian is just another horrible alpha that I have to deal with.
All three of them are.
And the second I have the chance to get free, I’m taking it. Even if that means gutting every last one of them.
Walking
Tristan
It was wellafter midday when the rain finally stopped. Basil asked to stop to feed our omega, but she had fallen asleep not long after leaving the cave. Killian was right not to wake her, but my stomach won’t stop barking. I’d kill for a steak right now, but I’m willing to settle for a sandwich.
“It’s okay.” Killian rubs Beth’s back as she stirs. Good. Maybe now we can stop. I also need to piss.
“Where are we?” Beth lifts her head. Basil and I both slow down so we can see her face, but the thin tarp is hanging in the omega’s face, hiding her eyes. She’s got nice eyes. Big and brown, and filled with a pointed rage that makes my balls feel heavy.
I’ve heard many stories about omegas that were fiery or bratty, but most are known to be submissive and subservient. As much as I want a precious omega all our own, the thought of a mindless mate sounds boring. I like a challenge.
“Can I please walk?” Beth asks, resting her fists on Killian’s shoulders. It’s almost as if she’s trying to touch him as little as possible.
The pack alpha pulls the tarp off her head, but she keeps her eyes down, staring at the wet grass near Basil’s feet. “We’re still a few hours away,” Killian says. “We’ll have to slow down if you walk.”
Beth’s jaw tenses as she lets out a frustrated breath. “I have to use the bathroom.” She looks to one side, refusing to look at me or Basil.
Killian comes to a stop and Basil jumps into action. “Wait.” He unzips his backpack, digging all the way to the bottom. “I don’t want your socks to get wet.” He pulls out a familiar pair of black slip-on sandals. They’re Jeremy’s. I have no doubt that he forced Basil to pack them.
That sexy little beta thinks of everything.
“Careful,” Killian says as he places Beth on her feet. She’s very short. The top of her head comes to my chest. “After you.” He holds out his hand, motioning for Beth to walk in front of him. The grass curls up around the edges of her sandals as she walks, soaking the socks Jeremy made for her.
“Actually, K,” I stop the alpha before they get too far. “I can take her.” I rest my hand on the hilt of my buck knife. “I’ve gotta piss anyway.”
Beth’s eyes go wide, clearly not happy with the idea of me relieving myself anywhere near her. But if she really is a Northern omega, then she has to be used to so much worse.
“Okay,” Killian leans in and whispers, “But don’t scare her.” He glances down at my crotch. “The last thing I need is for her to see that fat cock, and run for the goddamn hills.” He winks and I snort.
“I’ll try not to scare her,” I promise, placing my hand on my heart, and Beth starts to walk off. Her knees shake as she moves,nervous energy practically bursting out of her.She must have to pee pretty bad.
I follow her, letting her walk a few feet in front of me. Even in big, heavy boots, my feet land silently along the forest floor. It’s one of the few useful skills I learned in military school. Everything else was shit. Learning how to mindlessly follow orders—which is fucking painful for an alpha—and how to make a bed with corners so tight you’d need a crowbar to get under the sheets.
Not exactly life skills.
“Can I ask you a question?” Beth glances back at me.
“Of course,” I say, eager to tell her whatever she wants to know.
Her dark eyes move up the full length of my body, drinking me in. It makes me want to stand a little taller. “How tall are you?”
I’m caught off guard by her question. ‘I’m not sure.” I give her a half-hearted shrug. “Two or three inches taller than Kill and Basil.” The omega’s eyes narrow, clearly not liking my answer. “Six-five?” I shrug. I’m pretty sure that’s accurate, but I was never obsessed with being the tallest alpha in the room—not like some guys—but I did strive to be the strongest. And at two hundred and sixty pounds, I have yet to find someone that can bench press more than me.
I think it’s my build that throws people off. My mother described me as brawny. Some might even say bulky. I don’t have lean, cut muscles like most alphas. I’m big, with a soft layer of fat hiding my abs, but my pecs more than make up for it.
“Six-five.” Beth looks me up and down once more, but this time she looks more worried than curious. “You are pretty big.” She turns walking off.
