There was a closet with sliding doors that contained a few more newly purchased items of clothing hung on hangers. Nothing flashy, just some jeans, a few plain v-neck t-shirts, and a thin sweater. Everything was perfectly my size.Great,they had taken my measurements when I was asleep.Creeps.
The closet also held what I assumed were nesting materials for my heat. Blankets and pillows in every texture, shape, and size imaginable, filled the shelves. I let my hand glide over a few folded ones, shivering slightly at the feel of soft silk and thick, cozy knits against my skin.
When my next heat came, instinct would take over, driving me to build a nest with the fabrics I felt most drawn to. At the training center, they taught omegas how to craft elaborate, beautiful nests. They were supposed to be perfect, like everything else expected of us.
But I knew mine wouldn’t be like that.
A flicker of shame rose in my chest at the thought of piecing together something pitiful, small, and sad. Then the image creptin. An image of Cade and Ryker standing over my nest, eyes filled with disappointment... maybe even regret for choosing me. The thought twisted in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. I pushed it away, but the quiet sting of it lingered, leaving me more unsettled than I expected.
Why did I care what these men thought of me?
Trying to shake off the gloom settling over me, I turned my attention back to the room, drifting toward the nightstand once more. I had considered changing into some clothes, but I wasn’t sure if Cade would get angry, and I didn’t want to piss him off and get spanked again. My best behavior would be required to lull them into a false sense of security. I had spent 10 years pretending to be submissive. I could keep up the facade long enough for them to let their guards down so I could escape.
Instead of fully dressing, I opted to just put on a pair of underwear, snapping the tag off and sliding them underneath my oversized shirt. The power inequality between the alphas and me was even more stark when I didn’t have underwear on.
With nothing left to investigate in the room, I worked up the courage to try the door’s handle, twisting it, and saying a brief prayer. Was I a prisoner, trapped in this little room forever? It would be a lot harder to escape if I couldn’t even leave the bedroom. The knob turned all the way, answering my prayer, as the door clicked and swung open.
I was free!
Well,not free, but at least free to leave my bedroom, and that was a win!
The common space was quiet, and no one was in the living room or kitchen.
Nevermind.
An absolutely massive alpha was sitting at the dining table, with his back facing me. He was so quiet that I almost didn’t notice him, which was surprising considering his sheer size.
I had thought Ryker was massive until I saw Cade. And now I realized I had thought Cade was massive until seeing whoever this was. How big did they get? Russian nesting dolls briefly came to mind, each larger than the last. Maybe the fourth pack mate was even bigger, although I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be larger than the man sitting at the table. Hunched over, he shoveled what looked like fruity cereal into his mouth.
I didn’t need to announce my presence; my scent did that for me. As soon as I stepped into the common space, he turned to look at me, with his head cocked to one side. His expression wasn’t hungry or predatory like Cade and Ryker’s, but inquisitive, like a child watching a captured bug through a glass container.
His jaw reminded me of Cade’s. It was sharp and square, although he looked a few years younger and his eyes were a piercing icy blue. A thick, angry scar ran through his brow, pausing at his eye, and continued onto his cheek. Another older scar cut across his cheekbone, following the hollow of it and sloping along his stubbled jaw. Jet-black hair fell from his head in a messy wave, brushing over his forehead and obstructing his eyes slightly, which narrowed as they roamed over me.
A chill of fear slid down my spine. Something about his appearance and sheer size told me this was not someone I wanted to provoke. This man was a predator who hunted dangerous prey, as evidenced by his scars and a white bandage peeking out from under his shirt. The dressing led me to believethat this must be Killian, remembering that Cade had mentioned he was recovering from an injury.
He also smelled of the T-shirt I was wearing.
“Hello,” my meek voice croaked out.
I was nervous and watched him cautiously. Cade and Ryker were certainly intimidating, but I wasn’t concerned that they were going to kill me. Maybe just fuck and control me to death. Killian had a lethal energy surrounding him, and I was not disillusioned enough to think that his injury would buy me any upper hand. He would and could snap me in half like the twig that I was.
Killian, done observing me, turned his attention back to his cereal, looking utterly disinterested. That's what I thought at least until his low, raspy voice cut through the silence.
“Come here, Little Omega.”
His voice was coarse and uneven, carrying a strange, unfamiliar tone, as though he hadn’t spoken aloud in a long time. Each word seemed to scrape its way out of his throat, roughened by silence and disuse.
I didn’t want to obey. But my feet moved anyway, carrying me toward him before my mind could catch up. For a moment, I wondered if he’d used his alpha bark. But when I realized I could stop if I wanted to; it hit me: he hadn’t forced me. His voice alone had compelled me.
I stood next to him, beside the table, waiting for him to say something else. His scent was intoxicating this close, and as afraid as I was, I tried to stand closer to smell him.
In a swift moment, he grabbed me. I thought he was going to kill me as I squeeked, too afraid to elicit a real scream. Instead ofkilling me, he sat me on his lap facing him. My legs straddled his wide thighs, straining to accommodate his mass between them.
Underwear had been a good call.
He pushed me up against his chest, wrapping his free hand around my waist and tucking my nose into the crook of his neck. His scent was strongest here, and I breathed it in like a lifeline. It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of safety and comfort. I buried myself deeper as he chuckled a gravelly laugh, allowing me to rub his scent all over my face.
He stopped eating long enough to bury his own nose in the crook of my shoulder, scenting me in return. He took one long and steady inhale as I felt something monstrous growing between his thighs. What was that thing?! Why were these men getting hard all the time? Did they lack self-controlcompletely?
