Something stirs in my belly. Something hot.
My fists become tight balls at my sides. My claws dig into my palms, threatening to create an open wound.
I cannot kill Sutton.
Layla is a claimed omega.
The mate of a claimed omega should not stir this kind of emotion in me.
But what is this emotion?
Is it rage? Or is it something else?
I am hot as I would be with the need to fight, but my loins also stir with a different kind of heat.
Normally, I would wear my erection proudly. A sign that the bond between my omega and me is strong and healthy.
But I do not have an omega.
Why does my body betray me?
“It’s about using your opponent’s weight against them. Leverage your weight against theirs to get them to the ground and let gravity and the earth do the work.”
“Impressive,” Kydax says with a smile as he slaps Sutton on the back.
Pride surges through me, making my chest expand. It catches me off guard.
“How can you resist the urge to kill him?” Another alpha asks, mistaking my pride for posturing, I am sure, while the rest of the officers watch Sutton demonstrate another move with Kydax. “If I had to smell my omega on another male, I would want to rip his head off.”
“Layla is not my omega,” I say, as much for my own benefit as his.
“Sutton is not an alpha.”
“Is he not? He bested you. No beta could do that.”
He grumbles and marches off to spar with one of the other officers.
As good as it felt to make him eat his own words, I cannot deny the truth of his observation.
It is not normal for two males to carry the scent of one omega. It would be different if their bond were as strong as when an alpha claims an omega, but it is not. We all still sense that Layla is unclaimed. And as long as I carry her scent, they will not understand why I let Sutton live.
But how can I expect anyone else to understand my feelings and actions when I do not fully understand them myself? Ido not understand why I feel the urge to fight him, but I can easily resist it. I do not understand why Layla’s scent on Sutton arouses me. I can only guess it is because I miss her and I am happy to take any breath of her I can get, no matter the source.
Wanting to get a deeper hit of her, because the light whiffs I have gotten from this distance do not satisfy my need, I move closer to the sparring ring.
Only a few feet from Sutton now, he turns and glares at me. His own nostrils flaring.
“I gotta go,” Sutton blurts and storms off.
“Sutton.” Kydax turns to follow him.
I grip Kydax’s shoulder and tell him, “Let him go. I will keep my distance until Layla’s scent wears off of me.”
“He is human. He cannot…” Kydax begins to argue.
“He can.”
Kydax does not seem convinced, but lets Sutton go and finishes the training session, practicing the moves Sutton demonstrated so far.
