The Omega Games

by Wilder, J. L.

  Childbirth seemed to take an eternity, and Izzy lost herself in the rhythm of it, but suddenly, abruptly, it was over. She knew instantly. Her children had left her, and the connection they’d shared had been severed.

  “Wyatt?” she said anxiously. “The babies. Are they all right?”

  There was wonder and reverence in his tone when he answered. “They’re fine. They’re beautiful.”

  “I want to see them.”

  He stepped to her side, a newborn baby cradled in each arm, and gingerly passed one of them to her. “A boy,” he said. “He was the first. The oldest.”

  She looked down at her firstborn, squalling in her arms. “It’s all right,” she told him quietly. “I’m here. Mama’s here. You’re okay.” She kissed him gently on the forehead. “He’s perfect.”

  “They all are.” Lena took a seat beside the bed. She was holding two more babies, one of whom was crying fit to burst, the other of whom was sleeping as peacefully as if nothing of any interest was happening.

  “How many?” Izzy asked.

  “Seven,” Lena said. “A nice big litter.” She handed Izzy a bottle of water. “Drink now. You need to hydrate. You did an amazing job.”

  “I can’t believe they’re really here,” Izzy whispered wonderingly. “Where are the other three?”

  “In the bassinets.” Lena pointed. “They’re all right. We’ll rotate soon, so everyone has a chance to be held.”

  Izzy’s heart ached. It was painful to be far away—even across the room—from the babies she’d held so close for so long. A part of her wanted to get up and go to them, but she knew she couldn’t. “Can we move them closer? I want to see them.”

  Wyatt got up and shifted the bassinets to the side of the bed so that Izzy could peer over and look at the babies inside.

  “These two are boys,” he said, pointing them out to her. “They were the last to be born. All the middle ones are girls.”

  “Four girls and three boys?”

  “That’s right.” He looked down at the baby in his arms. “This one looks just like you. We should name her Isabel Junior.”

  “Give me a break,” Izzy laughed. “We’re not calling her that.”

  “Why not? We could call that one Wyatt Junior.”

  “No. They’ll have enough trouble finding their own identities, born in a group of seven like this. They should have individual names. Unique names. Names that are just theirs.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

  “I do my best.”

  Lena settled the babies she was holding into bassinets of their own and withdrew quietly, leaving Wyatt and Izzy alone with their new family. Izzy let out a sigh of relief. She loved Lena and had been grateful for the older woman’s help as she gave birth, but it felt good to be with the man she loved, to share this moment privately.

  It felt as if they were in their own little apartment, one the rest of the pack didn’t share with them. Even though the new wing was attached to the rest of the house, no one ever came in here without explicit permission from Izzy or Wyatt. It was treated like their private space. Everyone had pitched in to help build it—everyone apart from Izzy, who had been forced to watch the progress from the bedroom on the third floor—but she and Wyatt had done the decorating together, choosing paint colors and putting up decals on the wall over the children’s cribs in the nursery.

  “It’s going to be pretty intense,” Izzy said. “Taking care of seven babies, I mean.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Right now, I feel like I never want to put them down.”

  “I know what you mean.” She looked at her son. He was peaceful now. Something about being in her arms had calmed him. “Can I hold another one?”

  “You want me to take him?”

  “No.”

  He laughed. “You’re going to have to put him down eventually.”

  “Hush.” She shifted him to one arm and held out the other to accept the baby girl Wyatt had been holding. He went to the bassinets and picked up another baby to replace her.

  Watching the man she loved look down in awe and wonder at the child they’d created together, Izzy thought that no one in the world had ever been as happy as she was in that moment.

  EXTINCTION WAS NO LONGER a worry for the Hell’s Wolves.

  Heather and Van welcomed their first baby the following year, and James and Val the year after that. A year later, Izzy was pregnant again, consigned to bed once more as Wyatt wrangled their three-year-old children.

  At least, he didn’t have to do it alone. The pack operated like a family, with everyone helping to raise and teach the children collectively and communally. The atmosphere of the house couldn’t have been more different than it had been when Izzy and Wyatt had arrived. It was full of a childish energy now, and everyone in the pack had become the beloved uncles and aunts of the new generation.

  Izzy had named her oldest son Nicholas, and he grew at a rate that surpassed all the others. Soon he towered over his brothers and sisters. It was clear to her, also, that he was the leader of the group, directing them in their play. She pointed this out to Wyatt one day as the two of them sat watching all the children in a game of hide and seek.

  “I think he’s the alpha,” Wyatt said thoughtfully.

  “The alpha? Of the children?” She didn’t understand.

  “Of their generation,” he explained. “Someone will have to grow up to be the new alpha.”

  “Yes, but...how could that have happened? It’s genetic.”

  He nodded. “Robert doesn’t have children. We had a theory about it, a theory that the pack beta would ascend to alpha status if he died without heirs.”

  “So, you’re, what, the vice-alpha?”

  He laughed. “Something like that. It means my son has the best claim to the rank, and I guess it showed up in his genes.”

  “That’s a tough life,” Izzy said, feeling a stab of worry for her son. “Leading the pack, I mean. Robert had to make a lot of choices he wasn’t too crazy about.”

  “He did all right in the end, though,” Wyatt said.

  “He did.”

  “Nicholas will do well too. And he’ll have us to help him.”

  She leaned into him and felt his arms wrap around her. His hands came to rest on her belly, where their next litter of children grew. “Do you think we have an omega?” she asked.

  Wyatt hesitated for a moment. “I think that if we don’t have one now, we probably will soon,” he said finally. “That tends to go in families too. Does that worry you?”

  “I think it would have once,” she said. “There was a time when I would have thought the life of an omega was the worst thing that could happen to my daughter.”

  “And now?”

  She snuggled into his warmth. “Now I think it might be the best.”

  “Really?”

  “This life,” she said, “this family, these children...you...I can’t imagine anything better. If I could have asked for anything in the world, I wouldn’t have even thought to ask for this. I couldn’t have dreamed it. I hope one of them is an omega, Wyatt, because then she’ll be lucky enough to have the beautiful life I have.”

  He kissed her temple, and she rested against him to watch her children play.

  Preview of Omega’s Bears: Hell’s Bears MC

  All my life, I’ve felt I should be stronger. All my life, I’ve felt I should be powerful. But all my life, I’ve been nothing.

  This isn’t even my motorcycle. I don’t have a bike of my own. I always rode on the back of someone else’s. I got used to the feeling of wrapping my arms around a thick waist as the wind whipped my hair back from my neck. I got used to squeezing the sides of the bike seat with my thighs and pressing my face into the person in front of me—Berto, usually—to keep my cheeks warm.

  Most of all, I got used to the feeling of being a passenger. Of not being in control of where we were going or even whether we stayed uprig
ht.

  That isn’t the case tonight.

  I don’t think the fact that I’m an omega was a surprise to anyone. It certainly wasn’t to me. Even when I was a small child, I was quiet, submissive, tame. A follower. Always at the back of the pack. From the moment I was old enough to understand what an omega was, I saw myself in the description. Not that it mattered very much in our clan. Everyone was kind and respectful. No one treated me like I had any less worth. And because no one ever imprinted on me, I was able to live like the betas most of the time.

  But what’s happened now is wrong. This is not what’s supposed to happen. When a clan is wiped out, it’s not supposed to be an omega who’s left alive; alone to face the world. That isn’t supposed to happen. We’re not equipped for this. It’s too dangerous. It’s too terrifying.

  I can’t believe the clan is gone. Everyone is gone. Berto, Sam, Manny, Val, Dani...they were my best friends, and we thought we’d be together forever. And everybody else too. Leo, our alpha, who managed the clan carefully and fairly. Alessa, Leo’s mate and wife, who was as good as a mother to the rest of us. They were my family. They were all I had in the world.

  My life as an omega could have been terrifying. It could have been horrible, abusive, and violent. But I’ve been one of the lucky ones. I’ve been part of a clan that loved me.

  Now, that’s gone.

  So, I’m ripping North as fast as I can on the motorcycle that used to belong to Berto. He won’t be needing it anymore. I’ll never ride passenger on the back of this bike with my arms around Berto’s waist again. The wolves have seen to that.

  It shouldn’t have happened. I should have been stronger.

  Being a shifter is a powerful thing, even if I am an omega. I shifted, for the first time, at the age of twelve, but I knew it was coming long before then. My parents were both shifters, and I’d grown up seeing them in bear form. Back then, my father was the leader of the clan, but when he and Mom died in a car accident two weeks after my seventeenth birthday, Leo took over. From that day on, he treated me like a daughter. I feel awful that, when the wolves came, I wasn’t able to protect him. Now, he’s gone too. Everyone I love is gone.

  I pull in at a gas station to pick up some food before I stop for the night. Going in here alone is nerve wracking. I’ve done my best to disguise myself, covering up the tattoo that all members of our clan got, and I’m not in heat, so there’s no doubt, being out alone is safer for me right now than it could be. But I’m still all alone in an unfamiliar place. I’m lightweight, slightly built. And I’ve never been taught how to fight or defend myself. It was always the job of the rest of the clan to fight for me, and for each other. I had other responsibilities.

  The bell over the door rings as I step in, and the woman behind the counter looks up. I feel better. It’s a woman. There’s security in that. I load up my arms with bottles of water and granola bars, and take them to the counter to pay.

  She rings me up, trying not to be obvious about the fact that she’s looking me up and down, but I notice. “What’s your name, hon?” she asks as she puts my purchases in a bag.

  “Camile. Cami.” Immediately, I could kick myself. Why did I tell her? I should have lied, but that’s another thing I’ve never learned how to do.

  “You out here all alone tonight, Cami?”

  “My dad’s waiting at the hotel,” I mumble. Maybe she’s just trying to be helpful, but I can’t take the chance.

  She looks at me for a long time. I’m sure she knows I’m lying. She doesn’t call me on it, though. “Twenty-two dollars and thirty-seven cents.”

  I hand over the money—all cash, all taken from the wallets of my clan. I didn’t like doing it, but if I hadn’t, someone else would have. And I can’t afford to be traceable right now. The wolves must know I’m still alive. I’m sure they’re already out looking for me.

  I take the bag of supplies and head out of the store, looking over my shoulder with every step, in case I’m being followed. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to walk around without worrying that I’m being followed again. Just in case the woman at the gas station took note of me, I drive past two exits on the highway before pulling off at a motel. I’m taking another risk by stopping for the night and I know it, but I also know that I can’t drive all the way from Montana to Alaska without any sleep. I’ll get a few hours and leave early in the morning. That should be fine.

  Checking into the motel goes without a hitch. I lock the door to my room and throw the deadbolt, then draw the curtains across the window that faces out onto the street. I have to take every precaution. I wish I could afford to stay somewhere a little nicer, but because all I have is the cash I took from my clan’s wallets, I’m on a tight budget. I need to make this money last as long as I can.

  Not that the room is horrible, exactly. It’s warm, at least, and there’s a bathroom with plumbing that works, and little motel shampoo bottles and soaps, so I can clean myself up from the road. There’s even a TV, although I can’t imagine wanting to watch anything right now. It would relax me, but I don’t want to relax. I want to be sharp.

  There’s something uncomfortable about this place, all the same. The carpet is damp in places—I learn quickly where the trouble spots are and how to sidestep them. The blanket on the bed is thin and stiff, and I know it will be uncomfortable to sleep under. The pillows are flat. And I’m not confident the water glasses in the bathroom have been changed since the last tenant checked out. But that’s all right. It’s one night. I don’t have to use them.

  There are worse things out there.

  The thing is, the wolves are almost definitely following me.

  Inter-clan rivalries are decades old, and I’ve been warned against wolf shifters all my life. But once we knew for sure that I was an omega, the caution ratcheted up to a whole new level. I never understood why, though, until a week ago. Other bears would want me, of course, but what was it about me that drove the wolves wild? I assumed they were just trying to prevent the clan from growing, knowing that, if anyone imprinted on me, I would be able to produce a litter and swell our numbers.

  But last week, Leo came home in a state of high anxiety and told us what he’d learned. “They’re trying to cross-breed,” he said, pacing back and forth in front of us, his hands rubbing at the sides of his jeans the way they did when he was under pressure. “They want Cami, so they can breed with her.”

  Of course, everyone was outraged, but I was terrified. Berto stayed up all night with me, calming me, assuring me that nothing like that would happen as long as he was alive.

  They’ll know I wasn’t there when they slaughtered my clan. They’ll know they missed me. And they won’t have given up on their plan. But now, I have no one to protect me. I’m alone in the world, and I have no ability to fight them off. Running is the only option left.

  I have to hope I got away quickly enough that they lost the trail. I have to hope that if they are following me, they won’t pick up on signs, like Berto’s bike, which I did my best to conceal by parking it behind the motel instead of where it could be seen from the street. But my odds of getting out of this are feeling pretty low.

  I bathe quickly over the sink, using soap and a washcloth, mostly because I’m afraid to get in the shower. My hearing is sharp, and I’ll know, right away, if anyone makes noise outside the room, but if I’m in the shower, that will muffle any noise there might be. I can’t take the risk. Once clean, I gather up my clothes from the day, place them in the motel garbage can, pull out the bag, and tie it in a knot. I stuff the bag of dirty laundry down to the bottom of my backpack. I’ll have to wait until everything I own is dirty before I can consider spending money on laundry.

  I want to leave the lights on, but I know I can’t. I can’t give anyone driving by any reason to notice or think twice about my motel room. As soon as I flick the switch and turn them off, though, the room becomes ten times more ominous. I feel shaky and afraid. I make my way slowly from the wall over to the bed
and crawl in, my eyes darting from corner to corner. There are no wolves in here. I would smell them if there were. But I can’t shake the specter from my mind.

  I have to sleep but sleep eludes me. When I close my eyes, I see the big old three-story house that was our den. I relive the moment I walked inside after my evening run. I was only allowed to run in the woods behind our house. That was the only place it was safe to go alone. As long as I was there, I was protected, because no one could get by my clan.

  I knew, as soon as I walked into the house, that something was wrong. I smelled it. Wolf and something worse. And then I saw the bodies, piled in the living room. Leo, Manny, Val, Alessa, Dani, Sam...and Berto....

  They were my brothers and sisters. My mother and father.

  I wanted to stay. I wanted to give in to the horror, to fall to the floor and scream with the pain. But the wolves would already be in the forest looking for me. It was sheer luck that I’d made it back without running into them. I had to go. I had to go quickly. So, I ran to my room and threw a few things in a bag, forcing myself not to feel the overwhelming emotions inside. I took the keys to Berto’s bike. I ran. I’ve been running ever since.

  Now, finally lying still, the emotions catch up to me and crash down over me, and with thoughts of my lost clan battering against my mind and my heart, I cry myself to sleep. CONTINUE READING HELL’S BEARS ON AMAZON

  About The Author

  J.L. Wilder likes wild things. Wild men. Wild bears. Wild wolves.

  She lives in a remote area of Northern California and enjoys gardening, and backpacking in the wilderness. She has a thing for tall men with beards.

  Her best-selling shifter tales explore the wildness of sex, love, and shapeshifters.

  You can grab a free shifter romance and join her email here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/mvci9dryz6