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But I know for a fact that Luka isn’t in the passenger seat.
Luka is beaten the hell up, a long gash across his chest, bruises on his sculpted abs and cheek. He’s only wearing a pair of linen pants, dirty and blood-soaked, doing nothing to hide his throbbing cock. I can recognize the Eros overdose right away, and I know I’m in danger.
I stagger backwards, my back finding the plexiglass with a dull thud. My hands scrabble at the glass, watching Luka prowl toward me like a caged animal.
Not like this.
Please, not like this.
“He could kill me,” I say, my voice level even though I want to sob. “Alphas on this shit kill omegas.”
No one seems to care.
I’m ready to turn around and beg when I hear a short, sharp sound behind me, and a hand emerges through a small hole in the wall and grasps me by the throat. I scratch at the hand, and I’m mortified when my nails catch on my father’s wedding band. I choke out one more plea, but then a sharp pain sears through me from my neck outward.
Fuck…fuck, they’re injecting me with something.
My vision gets fuzzy around the edges and I slump down to my knees with a cry. My body is aching so bad I can’t breathe. It’s like normal heat times a hundred.
Not like this.
“Can you imagine the possibilities?” someone is saying behind me. “Like a chemical lobotomy that feels good. We get this out on the street and Pacific City, Solstice Bay…completely vulnerable…”
I forget their names, their voices. I forget my name, the alpha. All I can process is raw hunger.
I come back.
Aisling. I’m Aisling, and I can’t do this. I belong to Gunnar, to Oberon. I’m not a slave to my heat.
“Stay back, Luka,” I rasp, putting my hand up like a shield.
He stills, no recognition in his eyes.
He lunges for me, tearing at my clothes as he pins me to the floor on my back. I slap Luka’s hands away, even as my body begs for it, starts to lose control…but it’s no use. He’s too big, too strong.
I forget for a second that I’m not supposed to like that. Roll my hips against him.
I come back into myself, try and shove him off.
“Not like this!” I scream in his face. “Luka, come back!”
He suddenly takes a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back, his nose and teeth grazing over my neck. My skin is rough with bite marks near my pulse, already claimed by Gunnar and Oberon, but the alpha on top of me doesn’t seem to care.
“Mine,” he growls.
“Not yours!” I’m shrieking into his ear, clutching his shoulders even as arousal pools between my legs. “Get the fuck off me! Get…ah!”
His teeth sink into my neck right over my pulse, joining the other two bites, and I feel tears on my cheeks at the pressure. He isn’t soft or gentle; Luka—not Luka, the alpha—grips my hair and keeps me still that way, his teeth brutal and sharp. Too deep, too deep—I can feel blood splashing down into my hair.
“No…” I breathe. “No…”
Luka finally releases me with his teeth, though his hand is still in my hair and his hips are lodged between my thighs. He thrusts his hips and I feel his cock shoving against my entrance, no barrier between us except for the thin tatters of his own clothes. He’s almost completely shredded my shift in the struggle, leaving me exposed to these…
…I don’t care, do I?
I thrust up against him, whining with need. No more barrier—I need that huge cock inside me, knotting me, filling me up with pleasure. The alpha licks a long line up my neck as he desperately ruts against me, like he can’t remember how to take off his own clothes…
…because he’s Luka, not the alpha.
