Omega Awakening Bundle

by Aiden Bates

  He told himself sharply to stop being foolish. Jason was nothing to him, really. He hardly knew the Alpha. He just needed to forget it–forget him. Those steady dark eyes, the big, roughened hands. It was silly to be lingering over the thought of them. He willed the inner images of Jason away with several heavy, careful breaths, his fingers clenching involuntarily to fists.

  He would not think of Jason again. He squeezed his eyes shut, pictured himself twisting his mind between his fingers like a sponge, wringing out all thoughts of Jason, watching them swirl down and drain away beneath his feet.

  That was done, then. He could focus on other things.

  Luke opened his eyes again, studied the pattern of light streaming in through the cracks of his cabin, and guessed it must be mid-morning.

  He fell asleep still trying to keep his resolution.

  He dreamed. He dreamed of Jason, and in his dreams, he wondered, does Jason dream of me?

  Chapter Five

  Jason doesn’t dream. He remembers. He remembers sitting, watching him. He remembers a hundred years ago or more, he remembered another place and another time.

  Jason cared about Luke as Luke. As more. As –

  He wanted to pull Luke close and never let him go. He wanted to trace those full lips, caress those cheeks, feel that lithe body pressed against his own. He wanted to hear Luke say his name. Not yell it across the practice-yards; not in a tone of respect for Jason’s years of experience or obedience to his position as an Alpha. Jason wanted to hear Luke murmur it in quiet moments. Laugh playfully as he called it. Smile to himself secretly as he said it, because it was precious to Luke, because he –

  Jason flung himself away from Luke and back into his chair as if the youth in the bed had turned into a viper and bitten him. No, he thought, panting. No!

  He’d been down this road before. He knew where it ended. It ended with his failure to protect his omega, and in death. He wasn’t going to drag Luke into that.

  Luke tried to toss and turn again. Jason had to grab Luke to hold him still. For a moment he was afraid Luke was feverish; his skin felt warm under Jason’s hands. Then Jason realized that he was the one who was flushing warm. Aramis had cleaned more than just the wound while Jason had been gone, it seemed; the pungent smell that usually hung around Luke was much reduced, and his natural scent came through more clearly. Jason had been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed. But his body had been paying attention. Luke smelled sweet and spicy, like apples and cinnamon. Jason took another breath without thinking. Then he released Luke, who had quieted again, and steps back from the bed.

  He wanted Luke. And, judging by the looked Luke had been throwing Jason when he thought Jason wasn’t looking, Luke wanted him, too.

  Jason wasn’t foolish enough that he couldn’t tell the difference between his feelings and Luke’s. It was all too predictable. A young omega had his head turned by an older, more experienced Alpha. Whatever he thought of himself and his own abilities, Luke was naïve, innocent, and vulnerable. Jason would be the worst kind of Alpha to take advantage of that. He was older, broken and scarred, and he’d been unable to save one potential mate. He couldn’t protect Luke.

  Luke’s infatuation was as natural as it was transient. Time would take care of most of it. As Luke became more secure in his own power, he’d need the emotional crutch of a crush less. As his horizons broadened, he’d start to see that he had more options than an old, broken-down Alpha. And inevitably he’d learn the secrets of Jason’s past. At least, the parts of his history that Jason had ever shared. That should put paid to any lingering affections Luke may have held.

  In the meanwhile, Jason had to be the honorable one. He was a grown Alpha; he could certainly control himself. He’d have to be circumspect, of course. He’d have to maintain a certain distance. He’d have to make sure to give Luke’s crush absolutely no fodder. But he was sure it could be managed.

  Luke frowned unhappily in his sleep.

  “It was for the best,” Jason said aloud.

  Chapter Six

  It had always been for the best.

  That is a lie.

  They had always been. Or they had been a hundred times before, a hundred times different and a hundred times the same.

  Luke had used to think that the reason for Jason’s habitual reserve might be more to protect the privacy of his packmates than his personal preference.

  Luke had soon been disabused of that notion. Jason was more than taciturn enough on his own; he didn’t need an excuse. Any invitation of a more personal nature ended in rejection. Polite rejection, well-bred rejection, delicately worded rejection. But rejection all the same.

  Luke had first concluded that the problem lay in Luke’s being a novice. Perhaps Jason had felt it would be inappropriate for a Musketeer to relax around their trainee. So Luke had patiently waited out the six months of his novitiate. Four months ago, after he’d knelt before the king and received the pauldron from his hand, Luke had been wined and dined by the entire regiment. Even Jason had come. Luke had thought it a promising sign, and the very next night, he’d tried suggesting to Jason that they stop by the market-square together – claiming the need for some new piece of equipment as an excuse.

  Jason had been polite. He’d behaved in a well-bred manner. He’d chosen his words delicately. But he’d rejected Luke all the same. And he’d gone on doing so for the four months since Luke’s novitiate had ended.

  And now, by asking him something significantly more important and personal than simply to drink a tankard together as friends, Luke was disturbing Jason’s customary repose.

  Luke felt the force of his rejection like a punch to the gut. No matter how many times he’d told himself that Jason would certainly refuse, that Jason barely tolerated Luke and had no interest in him beyond the casual acquaintance that came with their place in a close-knit pack, Luke had apparently still gotten his hopes up. He’d allowed himself to fantasize about what it would be like together. And it hurt more than it should.

  “There is no one else,” Luke said recklessly. It wasn’t like he had anything else to lose in this conversation; he may as well have it laid out. “If you won’t come with me, I’ll go alone.”

  This was meant to sound strident, but a lost note crept into Luke’s voice at the end. He hated himself a little for that. Jason’s rejection hurt, there was no doubt about that, but Luke would survive it. He didn’t mean to sound quite so much like he’d be helpless without Jason.

  The catch in his voice did seem to trip Jason up, though. Impassive as he usually was it appeared he wasn’t entirely immune to the emotional response. Luke could have tried to exploit that advantage. Pressed on and attempted to convince Jason to come, make him feel guilty…

  No. It was too manipulative for Luke’s taste. However much he wanted Jason to come with him as a heat-companion, Luke would only have it if it were completely voluntary. Luke was already resigning himself to the growing realization that Jason would never return his feelings. Tempting as it was to beg for one heat together, one set of memories to comfort himself with until he could master his traitorous heart, the price was just too high.

  “I thank you for your consideration,” Luke said formally, falling back on years of coaching in proper pack etiquette to escape the hole he’d dug for himself by coming here. He tipped his head in respect – an omega to an Alpha – and turned to walk away.

  Chapter Seven

  When he woke from the dream, a dream he doesn’t remember except for those eyes and those lips and those hands, he went to pick up the cd’s that are ready for him at the superstore. He was so tired he stood there, with the disk in his hand, trying to decide whether or not he should buy groceries. It felt like an insurmountable task. He’d slept for hours, so why was he so exhausted?

  The phone call was a distraction he welcomed. Except, for a moment, the idea that it might be Jason fills him with anticipation. That stray thought only reminds him of how out of sorts he’d been sinc
e he’d met him.

  It was Gavin, Raul’s omega, calling him to remind him about the party. At first, he’d demurred. As much as he enjoyed his pack-mates, he’d been tired lately.

  He’d been too tired lately. He hadn’t been sleeping. Dreaming, but not sleeping.

  Before he could give his polite excuse, Gavin says, “Jason will be there.”

  Had his interest been that transparent? He didn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Gavin. He almost wanted to refuse even then, just to show Gavin that he had no interest in the Alpha. Just to show himself he wasn’t infatuated.

  Almost.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” he told him.

  When Luke reached his apartment, he wasted no time digging through his trunk and pulling out his favorite forest green cashmere sweater, and his nicest pair of jeans.

  They were the best clothes he owned.

  He’d kept them aside for a nice occasion, and it seemed this was going to be it. Luke had always been conscious about what he wore–dressed to impress, but he had particularly invested in looking good tonight. Looking like someone Jason could want.

  Despite the relative warmth of the room, Luke found himself shivering uncontrollably, like a harp string tightened past endurance and then plucked. He felt hot and cold at once, his skin strangely light as though it was too fragile to hold in all the feelings that were thrumming underneath his ribs.

  It was almost as though the others felt it too. There was something in the air, maybe the communal giddiness over the gathering, maybe something else, but it left Luke feeling alive with possibility.

  Everything around him looked different—the little lights skipping in under his door from the lamps outside, the crisp lines in his sweater as he laid it out upon the bed, even the goose bumps woken along his arms by air against his damp skin, made him aware of how much it was possible to feel, how much sensory input was constantly streaming in on him from all sides—his own hands skimming up over his ribs were making his body react in unexpected ways. He had to concentrate very hard to not let his attentions stray while he finished washing himself.

  He dressed carefully, meaningfully, fastening the button of his jeans with trembling fingers, straightening the hem of his sweater with careful attention.

  He combed his wet hair back from his face with fastidious care, calming the dark, unruly curls into sleek submission. He gazed at himself briefly in the foggy sheet of glass above the sink, and although the reflection was hazy, he could make out the deep lights of his eyes, the soft sweep of his hair as it curved back from his brow, the delicate arches of his cheekbones, his full mouth.

  Looking at his own blurred image he wondered briefly why Jason didn’t seem to be able to see anything in him he found appealing. He felt his cheeks flushing at the thought as he tried to study himself from Jason’s eyes. What was he missing? Then again, he’d hardly spent any time with the man. Maybe, with time, Jason would start to see him differently. Had the Alpha been thinking of him at all?

  He gave the attempt up as a lost cause and then, with one last lingering look in the mirror, Luke turned and left the room, making his way out of the little apartment and down the stairs to the white car sitting in the building’s parking lot.

  The gathering was being held at Raul and Gavin’s home, and though Luke had been there before in the years since he had joined the Superior pack, he always felt a little bit of warm anticipation as he followed the curving roads down toward the lake front. He wasn’t sure, this year, if any of the wanting heat in his belly was for the upcoming gathering. He wasn’t sure he had any to spare for that, when so much of his attention was focused on the chance to see Jason.

  By the time Luke arrived, the house was already filled with pack members. He found himself, as always, a little surprised by the size of the crowd, but then, it was easy to forget just how many wolves were in the Superior pack when they so rarely congregated anywhere all at once. He didn’t doubt that some of the guests were from other packs. Members of the Duluth and Superior packs often attended informal gatherings in the other pack’s territory. He thought he saw, too, a few shifters from some of the packs farther north–Blake Marrock from Silver Bay, and his omega, Darren; his brother Grey with his Alpha.

  The pack members were all dressed in their best, mingling in the warm light of the chandeliers with glasses of wine or bottles of beer in their hands. Laughter and chatter filled the rooms to their high ceilings, and Luke found himself smiling as he moved through the cheerful press of bodies. There was nothing like a party with shifters in attendance.

  In the whole crowd, none of them stood out in anyway from the other. Not in any kind of meaningful way. The Alpha’s were tall and broad. The Beta’s were a little less physical, but they too were dressed in their best, were smiling and engaging in conversation. The omega’s were, perhaps, on the whole, dressed better than the rest of them, and, for some of them, this was their true element. On the whole, the pack members were very similar, even with all of their differences.

  So, why, amongst all of them, Jason stood out to him, stood out like a blaze of warmth, like a beacon in the dark, he didn’t understand. The Alpha was, on the outside, no more or no less handsome than most of the other men; the pack had been blessed with an abundance of handsome features, but, it was Jason he couldn’t stop staring at.

  He didn’t understand why he walked towards him like he was the only reason he’d come to the party at all. Even if it was the truth, he’d meant to be a little subtler about it.

  For a moment, as he came to Jason’s side, when the Alpha didn’t immediately turn to look down at him, he considered the fact that he could keep walking. He could keep walking through the crowd as though he’d been on his way to the table at the back. The food was there, and it was certainly a viable option.

  “Luke.”

  Jason’s voice, warm and vibrant, stopped him cold, stopped him literally as he’d made up his mind to keep going.

  “Hello.” He strove to make his voice sound normal. It was going to be that kind of night, he realized and, as a waiter passed by with a tray of wineglasses, he reached for one, tipped it up, and drank it down.

  “Hello.” Jason smiled down at him. He was not in flannel tonight. This was the first time he’d seen him in something different. It didn’t seem right that the Alpha looked at good in a dress shirt as he’d looked in the much more relaxed attire. Most men couldn’t really pull that off, they were comfortable in one kind of clothes or another. But Jason did handsome as well as he did rugged.

  “Hi.” Flushing already, Luke glanced around, looking for something to make himself feel halfway normal. Another drink might be the option, he decided. At least, if he drank, he could pretend the flush in his cheeks was from the alcohol.

  This time, he grabbed two of the glasses. Handing one to Jason, he grinned. “Bottom’s up.”

  Watching him, Jason grinned. “I think we’re supposed to be sipping this,” he said, but the Alpha drank his down too.

  “Well. I’m unorthodox. I like to do things my own way.” Defiantly, Luke looked through the crowd, spotted another waiter, and headed off towards him. He didn’t want to leave Jason behind, and already the alcohol felt warm in his belly, warm enough to make him do something he wouldn’t have been likely to do without it.

  Reaching back, he took Jason’s hand.

  Maybe a mistake. Immediately, heat and need twined through him. He almost gasped from it, from the way the emotions climbed through him like vines from the soles of his feet all of the way into his throat.

  Who was this man that did this to him. Tilting his head, Luke looked at him, expecting to see some kind of answer in his eyes because there had to be a reason to feel this strongly for someone he didn’t even know.

  Jason smiled down at him. His eyes were sparkling.

  The only option was to drink. A lot.

  Chapter Eight

  Jason remembered. He remembered everything, all of the time
. When Luke took his hand it didn’t light the spark. It unleashed the flood.

  As he had always done before, he turned aside from looking too long. Always, in the beginning, he demurred.

  Every time he found Luke again, he fought.

  But all the omega had to do was press against him as they made their way through the winding streets because they were both too drunk to drive. All the omega had to do when they reached his apartment was murmur, come in, and Jason followed.

  They sat on the couch, and then, they sat on the bed. All of the fractions of time spaced between them like fingers lacing opening and closing again.

  “Jason.” Luke said his name, and Jason turned to look down at him. The way it always was, it felt like the kiss led them to each other.

  They kissed for the first time, again and it felt like an accident. It always felt like an accident. The most beautiful accidental brush of lips.

  Immediately, the heat exploded. A thousand sensations battled for dominance. Every sensation said the same name: Luke.

  He never listened.

  He remembered but he never remembered to stop himself.

  He takes Luke by the hand, and he pulls him onto his lap. The omega opens his thighs to him, drunk and sweaty with need.

  Jason closed his eyes. He has to stop. He stilled.

  He remembered:

  Jason slid a hand up into Luke’s sweat-soaked curls. His eyes were dark and hungry. “You’re going to come when I say so, alright?”

  “Y-yes, Jason,” Luke panted, his whole body shuddering.

  “Only when I tell you,” Jason said, his voice a tendril of heat uncurling between them as his hand began to speed up again. “You beautiful, beautiful thing.”

  Luke held his mouth there, panting into Jason’s as Jason licked at him, tiny little swipes of his tongue against Luke’s, the softest moaned sounding in the base of Jason’s throat, and it was as if he was offering them to Luke, these sounds he was making just for Luke, sliding into Luke’s open mouth and down his throat, and that gesture—the lapping of Jason’s tongue against his own was so soft, so wet, so utterly obscene that Luke could feel his limbs start to shake as the pleasure built within him, tightening and tightening.