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And, Fates… Every single one of these males—including Soren—is shirtless. I guess I should be grateful they’re all wearing pants.
I blink at all the shifting muscles—I mean seriously, why are there so many abs?—and have to physically pull my attention away before I start actually drooling.
Hormones, I’m finding as I wean off my suppressants, are incredibly inconvenient. Suddenly I can’t stop replaying that moment yesterday afternoon, when Daxen stretched on the couch, and his shirt rode up, and….
Oh my gosh, stop it, Idril!
“I had the lads doin’ a perimeter check, and thirty minutes in they came runnin’ back, shoutin’ at us tae get out o’ the woods. That we were under attack,” the Scot explains, raking a hand through his dark hair.
“I let Soren know what was happenin’ through the PackBond, then rounded everyone up tae leave. One o’ the lads was far out, so when Soren got tae me, we went back for him. Then outta nowhere, yon wee Beastie came tearin’ through the foliage with Alaric’s wolf boltin’ in front o’ him. I could smell the fear comin’ off o’ him in waves.”
“Because that damn cat took a bite out of my flank!” A male—who must be Alaric—shouts, shooting Shade a scathing glare. Shade’s eyes flick toward the wolven dismissively, teeth bared in a snarl and a threatening sound vibrating in his throat.
When Alaric bares his teeth in return, he takes a step forward, and I place my hand on top of his head in warning. At my touch, his growl cuts off, and he takes a reluctant step back.
“No need to lower yourself to his level,” I murmur under my breath. “Just ignore him.”
Behind me, someone snorts. I glance over my shoulder and nearly pass out in shock to find Daxen watching Shade with a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.
I blink, then turn back around, focusing on the wolven in case he tries something stupid—like coming after my cat.
Kane steps in front of Alaric, cutting off his line of sight with a glare. “Aye, well—the kitty cat saved yer arse,” he tosses back. “Saved ours too, truth be told. Soon as he caught sight o’ us, he chased our arses all the way out o’ the woods. Trees fallin’ round us like the bloody end of the world. Christ above, I thought we were done for.”
Shade, clearly interpreting Kane’s words as praise for his heroic efforts, steps up and butts his head against his thigh.
With a roguish grin that nearly splits his face in two, Kane crouches down on one knee and scratches behind his ears.
“Yer a fierce wee bastard, aren’t ye? Good lad. Brave as any wolven, I’d say.”
Clearly having decided he’s made yet another friend, Shade turns and licks a long stripe up Kane’s face. The Alpha laughs and bats him away good-naturedly.
“Och, dinnae let it go tae yer head, aye?”
By now, the tension around Shade has eased, mostly thanks to Kane’s easy acceptance. The male who stared at me—Alaric— eyes flick toward me, and when he realizes I’m already watching him, his frown deepens. His confusion melts away, replaced with anger. He turns accusing eyes on his Alpha and stalks forward with purposeful strides until he’s so close to my Mate he’s nearly on top of him.
Soren tenses, lost in his own conversation with Caelan and Kane, but otherwise ignores him, which only pisses Alaric off even more. Seething, he growls, stepping even closer to Soren and shouting, “You Mated a human?”
The entire yard goes silent. The hum of males excitedly detailing their version of events halts abruptly, and suddenly, all eyes are trained on Soren and me. It takes everything inside of me to keep myself from cowering under the weight of their gaze.
Soren’s hand lands on my neck. His fingers flex, his touch easing my nerves and soothing my Omega’s desperation to burrow somewhere soft and safe.
Behind me, Soren straightens, looming over every male without even trying. He doesn’t get angry, even though I can feel his frustration through the Bond. He sweeps his gaze over the group of wolven, and I get the feeling he’s daring them to meet his eyes.
With a satisfied nod, he turns his focus to Alaric. “I did. This is my Scent-Match. My Fated Mate, Idril.”
His voice is full of pride, and it puts me even further at ease. Soren’s the picture of control and authority, but when he looks down at me, his eyes soften.
“Idril, these are a few of my Packmates. They’ve been keeping watch out here. An extra layer of security.”
There’s no reason to pretend I’m not openly studying the group. These aren’t the kind of males you can overtly shrink away from, no matter how much my Omega wants to.
There’s something about them that’s hard and primal in a way the vampires aren’t. I get the sense that even outnumbered, not one of them would shy away from a threat. There’s a solidity clinging to them, a sense of immobility. Fighting these wolven would be like trying to fight a stone wall. One that’s stood for so long, it’s permanently sunk into the Earth, becoming one with the very thing it was built to protect.
Instinctively, I know any sign of submissiveness on my part will solidify what they’re all already thinking.
I’m an Omega. Worse—I’m a human. A thousand times weaker in their eyes than a wolven Omega.
Not fit to stand by their Alpha’s side.
