Sickle gasped, clutching at Renegade’s sleeping form and almost jostling her from deep, healing sleep. Gold-flecked eyes going wide. Pupils tightening as his hackles fluffed up, just a little. “Alpha—”
“That is not to say,” Giaus continued, licking his lips, “you are permitted to take at will. You may take only what an Omega is willing to give.”
Sickle swallowed, for while Giaus’ allowance might be seen as leniency to some, Sickle knew otherwise. Could see what remained unspoken, for he was Omega. Knew the curse of his gender, and just what the others constituted as willing. Nothing but the scent of a ripe Omega—male or female—could convince the other genders they were randy and ready. No matter that the Omega in question might be coming into season, and have no interest in taking it from whichever suitor felt they had a right to their genitals.
Only Renegade herself had managed to use her Canicule to her advantage, and even she had felt the backlash of her plan going awry.
Running his fingers through her thick fur, Sickle traced the edge of her collar. Knowing just how it would chafe. Hating the thought of watching her wildling spirit diminished in any way, yet seeing no way to help her. Not now, with the pack infected with Trax. Beholden to Giaus.
Already, he could feel the changes working within. Could hear and see and taste the difference running thick in his blood. His skin was alive with the tingling urge to be touched—by any gender. Omega, Beta, Alpha. It didn’t matter. It was as if the Trax exasperated his natural instincts, making them sharper. Inflaming his natural submissive tendencies, until it took little but a sideways glance or broken Feral purr from his Alpha.
Gods, the things he’d done!
That there was still a hint of slick and Alpha sperm coating his pallet wasn’t the repulsive thing it might have been. No, Sickle… savored that hint of taboo. Letting the breeding pair’s scent invade his brain. Breathing deep.
But… something was… missing.
Burying his nose in Renegade’s mane as she slumbered in his arms, Sickle brought her scent in. Rolling it around his mouth. Tasting it.
When he realized what it was—what wasn’t there—his hackles went flat. Fear oozing through his skin as he turned wide, Feral eyes upon the massive male who’d claimed everyone he loved.
Ever observant, Giaus rumbled. Nostrils flared. “What troubles you, little Sickle?”
He flinched. Cowering, even as his protective instincts surged to the fore. Covering the defenseless female that had been left in his care with a ferocious snarl.
Head snapping back, Giaus’ eyes went wide. Hackles flattening against his nape in surprise. But when his lips parted, it wasn’t with an angry bellow of dominance, but a mighty laugh that came from the very depths of his belly. “You see?” the Feral said, aiming an affectionate cuff at Sickle’s cheek. “Already the bond between us grows. To see an Omega stake a claim on a female already marked by her mate?” Giaus purred, tail lashing lazy and content at his back. Cock swelling at the base. Rising to the challenge still rattling from Sickle’s narrow chest. “We shall rise as a new breed. Uncontested in dominion, for where else have you seen a lowly Omega stand in challenge?”
They hadn’t.
Sickle himself had never been so bold, even with Silver and Balkazar, whom he’d called brothers. And now? Before an Alpha like Giaus?
Still, he didn’t back down. Refused to submit while his Renegade slumbered across his lap.
“Peace, boy,” Giaus rumbled. Crouching. Daring to set his knees in the dirt so he might appease his Omega. “Fight the aggression, and speak.”
Swallowing a snarl, Sickle squeezed his eyes shut. Licking Renegade’s claiming mark and pulling her closer. Terrified to know what the consequences would be, should he share the information his nose was broadcasting. “She’s…”
Giaus purred anew. Following the command to, “Speak,” with a breathy chuff.
“She’s not pregnant.”
Silence followed those forced words. Silence for all, except the Omega male who tightened his hold and squared his shoulders. Fighting his nature to stand against his Alpha, his chest expanded until a tight little growl stuttered forth.
With another chuff, Giaus’ mighty hand landed on Sickle’s nape. “Enough,” he rumbled. Chucking him beneath the chin until obedience was claimed. “How do you know this? Surely it’s too soon to tell?”
Sickle shook his head. Adamant. “Her scent, Alpha.”
Humming, Giaus cast an appraising eye over Sickle’s face. Head dipping low, the massive Alpha sniffed at Renegade’s mane for himself. “I cannot confirm your claim, boy. I smell only a female stained by my scent.”
Mouth dry, Sickle swallowed. But it was Micha who came to his defense.
“Sickle’s nose isn’t the best in the pack, my Alpha.”
Giaus turned his attention to the only other male brave enough to speak without permission. Eyebrow raised. “Who is?”
Going pale, one of the three Beta males stepped forward with eyes downcast. Konjo. “I am, Alpha.”
Flicking his tail in wide, lazy arcs, Giaus tugged Renegade’s sleeping form onto his lap. Unconcerned that Sickle was still clinging to her, he settled his mate’s forehead against his chest, spread her thighs over his, and slid two fingers into her pussy. “Go on,” Giaus allowed, watching Konjo’s approach without blinking. Going very, very still. A predator primed to defend what was his.
Trembling, Konjo knelt before his Alpha, licking his lips when Renegade squirmed. Coming half awake, even as Sickle tried to purr her back to sleep. Hoping to protect her from the confirmation he knew would come from his brother’s lips.
“It’s true,” Konjo said at length, retreating. Cowering. “She doesn’t carry.”
Chapter 8
Renegade blinked, unsure that she’d heard what she’d heard. Confused and groggy, she struggled to wake. Snarling at her Omega counterpart when the little male tried to soothe her. Tried to purr and wheedled when she pushed at his hands. Needing nothing so much as space as she returned to consciousness with the entire pack focused on her face.
Strong hands kept her still, while a stronger Feral purr rumbled at her back. Forcing compliance even as thick fingers brought a distant tingle of arousal.
“Get away from me,” she snarled, teeth snapping. Tail nub grinding against Giaus’ thigh making her squirm. Making her spine flex in an effort to escape the torment Giaus enjoyed inflicting oh so much.
“Such fire,” her mate rumbled, licking at her claiming mark as he held her there, spread before the pack. They were all gathered around flames flickering low. Lips and chins glistening with their feast, eyes reflecting that they were changed, one and all. Feral.
Infected.
Just as she was.
But she wasn’t pregnant, or so she’d overheard.
“Is it true?” she asked, squirming around to face her mate. Letting her eyes go all soft and feminine, hand going to the—hopefully—empty cradle between her hips. Trying to show him a disappointment she simply didn’t feel. Couldn’t, for she hadn’t been a part of his insane plan to breed an army from her womb.
Giaus purred, wrapping a burly forearm around her middle. Tucking her in close to his chest. “Only time will tell, female.”
But when the pack Betas shifted, keeping their eyes low, Renegade saw conflict. Saw the hesitation of the lesser males for what it was—dissent. They disagreed with their Alpha, but had been harshly submitted, and so wouldn’t dispute what time would indeed reveal.
Renegade took comfort in their averted eyes, yet maintained the feminine delicacy that spoke of one saddened by the loss of a thing she’d never wanted. Kept her smile to herself, for perhaps she wasn’t quite ruined by these males and their overbearing nonsense. Not just yet.
Instead, she offered a purr. Ignoring the way it rasped and rattled through her throat. The distinctly other quality to her voice that had never been present before. And with
a smile, she said, “I shall consume nothing but offal and hope I am deemed worthy of your seed,” she said, dainty purr rumbling forth.
Giaus returned her purr, clicking his teeth beside her cheek. Teeth scraping back, finding purchase at her nape, he grinned against her skin. “You’ll have your fill of organ meats,” he said, cupping her mound. Working her bean with the pressure and weight of his mighty paw. “And if you haven’t caught a litter, I’m sure I can find a purpose for your pussy until you are slick with Canicule once more.”
Spreading, Renegade let her head fall back. Hungry for his touch in a way she’d never known. Almost… unnaturally so.
The Trax manifesting itself through her. Infecting her with primal instincts she didn’t trust or recognize.
But Giaus stood, setting her aside no matter the outraged mewl that burst from her lips or the purr that she’d produced for him.
“Perhaps,” he said, “such a failure will be a blessing.”
Silver frowned, daring to raise his gaze from the dirt. “Alpha?”
“Guarding my pregnant mate while fortifying our den,” Giaus said, “will not be an easy task.” Letting Renegade’s chain pass through his fingers, he idly stroked at the semi-hard prick hanging heavy between his thick thighs.
Silver licked his lips, eyes flicking over Renegade’s face. “Build fortifications here?”
Giaus nodded at the lesser Alpha. At once pleased that he’d be so bold as to speak without permission—for what sort of soldier would a meek Alpha make?—and annoyed that he’d done so. But he suspected it would always be so, this resistance to pack life. Sharing what was his with others capable of making her belly swell.
“Yes,” he said at length, the master of his defensive bristling once more. “We will clear this forest of Ferine. Ensure the safety of Renegade and any kits she should bear. These are the foundations of any great society.”
Rallying, the lesser males looked to one another. Sensing the rise in aggressive male hormones and the need to defend a female who had no desire for such treatment. And there was something… else. Some dark eagerness in their eyes she’d never seen before. As if she’d missed something desperately important while she’d been having her nap.
For her part, Renegade was content to wait. To see what Giaus could do with his infected pack, and beguile the great Feral Alpha in any way available to her. Purring, petting, fucking—none of it was beneath her. Not if she wanted to taste the winds of freedom, or drink from the springs of selfish independence. No, she’d happily burn all sense of shame and become the mewling breeder Giaus had meant to catch.
“You will go in small packs,” her mate rumbled, tail fluffed up and held high. “Always with an Alpha.”
“And of the Ferine?” Silver said, licking his lips. “Are we vulnerable to their bite?”
Renegade frowned, hearing that strange word spoken twice in so short a time. Not understanding.
“Do not fear the Ferine,” Giaus returned. “You have been marked first by me, and so you are blessed with immunity from that lesser strain.” He paused then. Touching them all with the light of his Feral gaze, until he smirked, and said, “Among other things.”
Annoyed by the mysticism, Renegade pushed Sickle away, and stood. Stretched, and grazed them all with her scent. “What other things?” she asked. Feigning indifference.
But to that, Giaus merely smiled. Tail flicking.
Chapter 9
Over the course of the next several weeks, Renegade’s quiet-den-of-sin-turned-prison was transformed yet again. Utterly. Gone were the young saplings speckling the edge of the forest. All sharpened and whittled into spears. Where the bathing pool had sat bubbling for time untold, was now an enclosed, open-ceiling solarium with rudimentary decking around the edge.
Decking, Giaus assured her, that would eventually be carved smooth of the raw edges they’d been unable to avoid without proper tooling. When he’d spoken of the need for privacy, it was while invading her space and inviting himself to share her bath. They needed protection, he’d purred, insisting the Ferine were threat enough to bother fortifying against. While he’d held her chain in clenched fist and held her knees pinned apart, plundering her depths at his leisure, despite snapping teeth and voice gone raw over her demands for relief.
And worst of all was the nest her asshole of a mate insisted was hers, though it stank of his seed and his pack males and his claim. Now well-lit, Giaus had set both of the other Alphas to carving a second exit and two quaint little windows from solid rock. Ordered the Betas to build not one, but three latrines, for their ragged Feral pack could not share a single toilet without bloodshed for much longer.
The nest itself? Layered with choice pelts and dug deeper into the earth where her males might burrow over and around her without the risk of smothering her. Fitted with makeshift hooks from which to hang her chains, it was less the den of domestic bliss Giaus insisted he wanted for her, and more the prison Renegade had been trapped inside.
All for her. All to appease his mate.
And Renegade wanted none of it so much as she wanted to run. To tear through these males she should never have entertained in the first place, and leave nothing in her wake but corpses and the echoes of their pleas for mercy.
Instead, she held her silence. Smiled, when she wanted to scream her throat bloody. Purred, when she needed a breath that wasn’t perfumed with the stink of male hormones, cum, and sweaty leathers. Seething through her dainty smiles. Watching. Waiting for her mate to relax his guard and leave her a window from which to slither.
Renegade clung to that hope, even though each passing day spoke of dwindling odds, and told a tale of a male driven by his dream of a new beginning. Of a safe place to raise young, and sleep without the threat of the wild creeping in. Honorable, she knew, no matter how much she’d like to be the one to spill his blood and drink from the wound.
She glared at her chain. Picked at her collar. Hissed at Sickle, who’d been designated nursemaid and tended her every need in Giaus’ absence, though she couldn’t stand to be apart from the slender male and his wandering hands. A gift from the Trax, this alarming need to be touched at all times. Perverse, to one such as she, for it was changing fundamental truths Renegade had learned to rely on.
Sickle licked at her shoulder. Nuzzling deeper into the furs. Legs winding through hers as his chest picked up a delicate yet rugged Omega purr. Arousal drooling at her hip.
“Get away from me,” she hissed, but couldn’t bring herself to lash out, or admit how she needed to be touched.
“You don’t mean that,” Sickle returned. Well accustomed with her temper after all their time in the nest. Together.
Teeth flashing, Renegade fell silent. Turning. Giving up her back in huffy silence.
Sickle didn’t hesitate to burrow deeper. Lining his hip bones up with the crack of her ass. Spreading her pussy across his thigh and winding his arms over her ribs to cradle between her uppermost nipples.
Reluctant pleasure eased the irate growl building in her chest. Sent warmth cascading down her back and soothed raised hackles. And when her Omega male licked at her shoulder, tongue tracing Giaus’ claiming mark with stomach churning reverence, Renegade presented without meaning to.
Arching her back, she ground herself against Sickle’s thigh. Riding his skin as she teased his arousal. Drawing out a spurt of sticky wetness that did little more than ease this mutual masturbation.
“M-Miss,” Sickle gasped, trying to pin her still with a hand on her hip. “We can’t. Giaus is—”
With a snarl, Renegade reached between them and took his slender prick in hand, because she didn’t give a goddamn what Giaus was or was not. No, for spite, she guided Sickle between her swollen, needy lips and took him to the hilt with a breathy sigh.
There were no arguments after that, not while Sickle lost himself between her thighs. Humping furiously, he drove himself toward completion as if helpless to do otherw
ise. Emitting desperate little squeaks every time she shunted back and squashed his balls against the round of her ass. Ignoring the persistent tingle of wrong that had been her tail nub since her transition to Feral.
She wasn’t halfway there before Sickle cried out and went stiff. Cock jerking and kicking as he spilled into her.
But before she could lash out and punish him for such unforgivable selfishness, his hand slipped between them. Going not to the needy bundle of nerves aching in swollen demand for attention, but to her tail nub. Scratching at it with his forefinger, Sickle cheated. Tossed her bodily over the edge with unnatural convulsions that abandoned all sense of pleasure and turned her orgasm into pain.
With an inelegant squawk, Renegade clamped down on the dick still spewing into her guts. Internal muscles clenching and squeezing. Milking every drop of Omega cum the slight male had to offer, until her teeth began to chatter and her eyes rolled back. And so it was that she didn’t realize something was wrong until Giaus had wrenched them apart. Gentle, in spite of the potential for violence upon finding his mate being bred by another. In spite of Renegade’s efforts to piss the massive Feral Alpha off and instigate a fight.
Giaus’ temper didn’t so much as flicker, from what Renegade could see. Though her cunt was still twitching and flexing at the empty spot where Sickle had been. Frothy cum dripping down her thighs and limbs still twitching with aftershocks that had only begun to lessen the intensity of her orgasm.
Giaus purred, seemingly pleased. Dropping Sickle to the side, he rolled Renegade prone. Positioning her face down in the furs. Adjusting her until her face was buried and her ass was his to use. Thighs spread. Pussy drooling.
Giaus wasted nothing on finesse. Merely plunged into the mess Sickle had made and emptied his balls with a single thrust.
“It has begun,” he said, and helped himself to abusing her tail nub. Tearing terrible sounds from her throat as she came again. Near to sobbing with the agonized pleasure that shouldn’t have been.
Taming the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 3