Page 19 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

“You’ve clearly never met an alpha around an omega in heat then,” I said, then clamped my mouth shut when he gave me a wide-eyed look.

There was absolutely no shyness or hesitancy in his response, though. “What the hell is an omega?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“Er.” I waved a hand nonchalantly. “An omega is … an omega.”

Okay, now he looked pissed off. I gritted my teeth. “It’s … hard to explain.”

“Is it?” He folded his arms across his chest.

Damn, I was just digging myself deeper and deeper here, wasn’t I? If I had any hope in hell of getting laid …

“You,” I said before I could think better of it. “You’re an omega.”

Wyatt studied me for a moment, pressing his lips together, hazel eyes bouncing back and forth as he scanned my face. “I’m not a shifter,” he said slowly.

“I know.”

“I don’t think humans have … whatever an omega is.”

“I know,” I repeated, hanging my head. “I don’t get it either—but yousmell—”

“Seriously? I smell?”

I grabbed his hand as he tried to pull away, clearly offended. “Like an omega,” I finished, looking into his eyes, hoping he could see that I was being sincere. I didn’t understand it any more than he did. All my life, I’d been told shifters had alphas, betas, and omegas, while humans divided themselves into male and female. For shifters, that didn’t matter at all; it was our Greek lettering that determined reproduction. So my little brother Cody was stillmale, even though he was an omega.

Another reason shifters had historically kept to ourselves, by and large. There were a lot of humans out there who would have accepted that or didn’t really care, but there were plenty of them who didn’t want to wrap their heads around anything that didn’t fit in their neat little boxes.

God, I hoped Wyatt wasn’t one of those.

My heart tripped faster as I realized that there was a non-zero chance of rejection here. Wyatt was human. He didn’t know about omegas and alphas. Hell, he hadn’t even known about shifters two hours ago. I’d known the guy for maybe a little more than a week, and I’d spent half of my time around him in my fur. It wasn’t like we’d had a chance to have deep, meaningful conversations or even just shoot the shit about where we stood on “hot button issues” like trans rights and not being an absolute scumbag.

I swallowed nervously. “Wyatt—”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Let’s say I believe you,” he said slowly, his gaze fixed on the worn wooden floorboards. He was slowly twisting his thumbs together. “What does that mean?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “It means … you’re an omega in heat, and I’m an alpha. I want to help you.”

Finally, that hazel gaze flicked in my direction. “Help me how?”

I leaned toward him, angling in for a kiss. “Like this.”

It was about all I had time to say, and I hoped it sounded smoother than it felt, because I basically mashed our mouths together, like I was a fumbling sixteen-year-old again.

It must have been sexier than it felt, because Wyatt practically moaned into my mouth. Then he kissed me back with matching ferocity, tongue and teeth, and suddenly, we were a tangle of limbs tumbling off the edge of the bed and landing with athump, my back to floor, Wyatt on top.

“Ow,” I managed, but my lungs felt like they were on fire. And that was saying nothing about my shoulder.

Wyatt’s eyes widened, and he sat up. “Sorry,” he said, then made like he was going to dive off of me.

I grabbed his wrist, holding him fast. “It’s fine,” I wheezed. “I’m fine.”

He gave me a skeptical look, which was fair. I huffed a couple more breaths, just to make sure I wasn’t going to faint or something, then slowly rolled us over.

Wyatt glared up at me. “Who says you get to top?” he asked.

“Uh … I’m the alpha?” Honestly, I’d never really given it much thought. Everything I’d ever read or seen or whatever had the alpha on top. It was just how things were done.

Wyatt scowled, then flipped us back over. “What if I want to be on top?” he asked, straddling my hips and grinding down.