Pack Darling Part One

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Pack Darling Part One Page 20

by Lola Rock


  Everything is always heavy with our pack.

  Responsibilities and disappointments. Orion feeling like he has to live up to some ridiculous omega standard, me failing to live up to Scorpio’s expectations.

  It’s a different world as Lilah bites into an atomic-hot fry.

  Orion hands her a glass of water, grinning this golden, darkness-obliterating smile that’s sunshine after a storm.

  I take my first full breath in weeks. I don’t know the last time Orion smiled like this.

  Years. Maybe high school.

  When I remember I’m supposed to be eating, I bite into the burger and my eyes roll back.

  So fucking good. Makes the takeout we’ve been living on taste like plastic.

  We haven’t had a home-cooked meal since we lived at the compound. Before Orion awakened and we moved to the country home the dads bought as a gift for our future mate.

  We’d all pictured more of this. Family dinners. Domestic shit.

  Nothing about our pack has followed the dads’ plan. I wouldn’t change a thing, but I can’t shake the nagging guilt.

  I’m tempted to let the moment go on, to pretend that this could be a permanent way of life, because damn, I’d love to see Orion smile like this every day.

  But I can hear the seconds ticking on Lilah’s time with us.

  When the alarm rings, we’re in for a nasty wake-up call.

  One whiff of Lilah’s pheromones, and instead of this happy fake family dinner, we’ll be looking at a war zone.

  “How long until you awaken?” I may as well have pulled the pin on a grenade.

  Lilah’s smile falls off her face like a hubcap spinning free on a bumpy back road.

  She covers her arm, pressing right over the bullet wound hidden under her sweatshirt. “Never. I’m not going to awaken.”

  I swallow at the sorrow in her eyes.

  Finn flashes me a look that reminds me how many knives he carries. His dominance stabs at our bond. I take the force like a punch, not giving, my alpha rearing up to remind him who the fuck runs this pack.

  He pushes one more time, and I can feel him shooting me two tall mental middle fingers.

  When Finn turns back to Lilah, his voice is rough honey. “Don’t worry, Babydoll. We’ll keep you forever.”

  “No,” Jett says stiffly, “After she awakens, she’s gone.”

  Orion goes so still I can’t tell if he’s breathing.

  Fuck. I shouldn’t have brought this up.

  Maybe I was wishing we could keep her, but I know how ugly this ends if the guys start catching feelings. “You’re welcome to stay as long as there’s no change in your scent.”

  Honestly, I’m starting to like having her around.

  I like the way she lights up Orion.

  The way I can’t.

  “I’m earning money. I’ll disappear as soon as I have enough in my account.” Lilah fiddles with her napkin like she’ll find the answers by crumpling it into smaller and smaller folds.

  “Earning money doing what?” Hunter asks in a too-worried tone.

  “Accounting. Bookkeeping. I like math.”

  “Forensic financial accounting,” I mutter, remembering the oddball line from her bio.

  “And shiv whittlin’,” Finn says happily. “Where do I put in my order? You have an Etsy?”

  Lilah looks past Finn, meeting my stare without a flinch.

  A rumble of approval rises inside me. I bite it back, but shit. Not many alphas can meet my eye.

  “I won’t outstay my welcome.” There’s something dark in her voice. Desperate. But I can’t scent her to read more, and that flash of truth disappears when she withdraws, shoulders hunching into a cocoon of protection.

  “We’re not kicking you out,” Orion says, and I can’t believe he’s the one speaking up for her. “You said you’d help me, right?”

  “With what?” And when did they bond so deeply?

  “Omega secrets.” Orion leans closer to her, so obviously trying to cheer her up it sends a pang through my asshole heart.

  “I’ll help,” she answers in a soft breath. “But I promise, I’ll be gone before I cause trouble.”

  “You’re not leaving until the Redfangs are gutted,” Hunter says harshly.

  Even Jett nods. “We’ll have the situation under control soon.”

  “Do you need help with surveillance?” Orion asks. “I can—”

  “No,” I say before he can get rolling. I want him home, resting, safe. Not in the field. Not in danger. “We have it handled.”

  “Right.” Orion pushes a fry around his plate, eyes downcast.

  There’s a brick in my gut.

  I fucked up again.

  It’s like everything I say or do kills his light.

  But Lilah—like a total fairy—squeezes some god-awful sauce into the smear on his plate, jams in a fry, and offers it to his lips. “Kranch and Thai peanut. Winning combo.”

  His smile doesn’t stop, even when he folds his lips around the fry and his nose wrinkles at the weird-ass flavor. He grabs two bottles and makes a counter-offer. “Thai chili and chipotle mayo. Don’t tell me yours is better.”

  Their dinner devolves into a condiment war, but the easy lightness is shadowed. Maybe dead.

  The alphas are silent, stuck in their heads.

  “My room?” I stand when I’m done, catching Orion’s eye.

  I push my instincts back so I can function, instead of fucking him every second of every day, but there’s never a moment I don’t ache for my mate.

  The other guys disperse, muttering gym or work or wherever they’re off to spend our rare free night.

  “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Orion looks at Lilah like she’s a teddy bear he wants to cuddle. I don’t fucking know if I should nip this shit in the bud or encourage him.

  “All good.” She waves him off. “Go ahead. I’ll do the dishes.”

  “You don’t have to—” At least three of us start.

  She snorts the cutest laugh. “Go. I like cleaning. It’s a weird omega thing.”

  “Is it?” Orion frowns at his dirty plate like this is news.

  It’s news to me.

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Rest though. Your arm—” Orion starts.

  “It’s fine. Promise. Good night.”

  I take Orion’s hand and tug him from the kitchen, fighting the pull to look back, this stupid, sudden urge to not leave her alone. When I curl my fingers through his, and he doesn’t do the same, I realize he’s just as distracted, gazing over his shoulder at the girl we’re leaving behind.

  She’s going to be a problem.

  What kind, I don’t know.

  The thought falls out my head as soon as we’re upstairs and Orion sinks into my side, slinking his arm around my waist.

  My switch flips.

  Omega.

  Mine.

  I haul him up, slam his back against the door. Orion tilts his face to meet mine, slipping a soft, low moan of contentment when his thighs hook around my hips. His cock is hard. Ready.

  One hand clawing into his soft curls to remind him who he belongs to, I claim his mouth, pushing my tongue between the seam of his wet, pink lips.

  His pheromones are candy.

  His scent, his taste, drive me fucking insane.

  My knot aches because every day I’m not buried, coming deep inside him is one day too long.

  Orion grabs my shoulders, already working his lithe hips, grinding his hardness against mine, scent smoky with lust.

  “Atlas…” he murmurs against my lips. “Please.”

  My omega’s plea is my command.

  His sharp, needy sweetness, the way his fingernails claw my shoulder blades on the wrong side of desperate, they’re all little digs, reminding me I haven’t fucked him right.

  I haven’t taken care of him properly.

  Tonight, I’ll give him everything he needs, dick him down until he begs me
to stop, limp and weeping, destroyed with fucking pleasure.

  Coaxing his lips open with my tongue, I carry him to the bed. I lower him onto the cool sheets without breaking the kiss.

  I can’t. I want to devour him, the sweet, needy side of him that makes my instincts rage to bite, protect, claim.

  He claws my back, the hit of pain lighter fluid in my veins as he tries to drag me tighter, closer, begging me to take him, his soft tongue and hot breath mingling with mine.

  My cock rises, knot swelling. Gonna fuck him for hours.

  Then I taste something cool on my tongue. Iced cider like a sad, fallen apple left out in the frost.

  I cup the back of his head, gently tugging his soft curls.

  His eyes are glassy as sapphires. Orion turns away, looking down, trying to hide, but the tear tracks on his cheeks are a knife to my gut.

  I don’t have to ask who hurt him.

  It’s always me. Always fucking me.

  “What’s going on?” I want to wipe his tears with my thumb, lick them clean, but he squirms, and it’s not the good way. His scent is sour apple as he avoids my gaze.

  I want to help him put his pieces back together, soothe him, reassure him, but Orion pulls away.

  He doesn’t trust me.

  I’ve hurt him too much.

  Orion wipes his own tears and pulls himself together while I look on like a useless fuck.

  “Sorry,” he says through glistening eyelashes. “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

  Shit.

  He should never apologize to me.

  “Orion.”

  His gaze flicks to my face. Biting his lip, he rises, trying to steal a kiss, to pretend that shit didn’t happen. No matter that I’m hard as fuck, dying to pound into him, I tug him back by his hair, dragging him into the pillow.

  He lets out a moan so throaty my balls bounce.

  We’ll revisit that.

  “Orion,” I bark but I don’t have the heart to force him if he won’t admit what’s wrong. My voice softens, a request and not a command. “Tell me.”

  He melts under my dominance, sagging against the pillow.

  “I miss you.”

  The words are a bullet between the brows. My ribs tighten, heavy with the weight of all my wrongs. “I know I haven’t been around. The Red—”

  “It’s not that. It’s this.” Orion squeezes my shoulders, pulling me harder against his length.

  “I always want you.” I grind my hard cock against his jeans, letting him feel that nothing has changed between us. Nothing will ever change between us.

  “That’s not true.” He shakes his head, another stab to my chest. “Fuck. I’m the worst omega.”

  “No.” I tip his chin and force him to look me in the eyes. Please, let him see what he means to me. “You’re mine.”

  “Lilah.”

  I flinch.

  “You like her.” He tilts his head, curious instead of fucking pissed.

  He should be pissed. “You like her too.”

  “There’s something about her.” He strokes the back of my neck, making my balls tighten. We need to have this conversation, but my cock’s an impatient dick who doesn’t understand why my omega’s still fully clothed when we have him pinned underneath us.

  I force myself to engage my upper brain.

  “Maybe she’s playing games with us.” Maybe it’s all a lie. A ploy to slip under our skin.

  If it is, it’s fucking working.

  “She saved my life.”

  I drop on top of him, pressing my face to the hollow of my mate’s neck. Dragging my nose over my bite, I drink in his pulse and his scent and the way he shivers underneath me.

  All to make sure that he’s still alive.

  It was so close.

  If Lilah didn’t react, Orion would already be buried.

  That’s all I need to know. She saved him, and we owe her.

  “She’s too…” Orion searches for the word. “Too considerate? She could’ve watched me die and taken my place, and no one would’ve said shit. But even before. In the limo? She bends over backward to not step on my toes. I try to hate her, and I just…”

  “You’re trying to hate her?” In what world would Orion share his hot sauces with someone he hated?

  Looks more like he’s lovesick.

  I’d be destroy-the-sun-end-the-world jealous if he smiled at another alpha like that.

  Shit.

  Why aren’t I jealous?

  “She’s just so perfect. She’s tiny and beautiful and knows exactly what to say and you’re going to—” he chokes off.

  “Going to what?” I growl against his ear, loving the tremble that rolls down his body, aching to take him, but I have to dig to the bottom of whatever’s hurting enough to have him crying in my arms.

  He shudders, rising to grind his hips against me. I channel the Buddha like a fucking monk, resisting the urge to spread him out.

  “Tell me.” I nip his ear.

  “She’s going to steal you,” he whispers, almost fucking breaking me.

  “No.” I pull him tight, aching that I let him sink into these doubts. “She’s not. Never. No one can replace you.”

  “Tell that to Finn and Hunter. Fuck. Jett can’t even look at her and he’s in love with her.”

  Oh, I’ll tell them.

  Tell them we need to keep our distance. We owe Lilah, but that’s it. Orion is the beginning and the end of our pack.

  “You’re ours.” I drag my teeth down his neck, kissing and sucking the silvery patch of skin where my ownership is branded into his flesh. “You’re mine.”

  “Alpha…” his breathy voice is too much sin to resist.

  I run my hands down his body, cupping the front of his jeans, where the long length of his cock rises to meet me. “Who told you I like things tiny?”

  Orion groans. “If you don’t fuck me, I—”

  “You’ll what?” I flip us, pinning his chest to the bed, so I can grind my knot in the split of his ass. He lifts onto his elbows, grinding into me, begging for it.

  “Please, Atlas.” With the soft whine in his voice and my name on my lips, fuuuuck.

  I rip off his jeans, his shirt, his briefs.

  I only stop to prop pillows around him, making sure he’s comfortable while I suck out his soul.

  My mate’s cock is a work of art. Nothing about Orion is small.

  He’s not built like the standard omega and I wouldn’t change a fucking inch of him.

  Gripping the soft iron length of his shaft, I take his perfect pink head between my lips.

  His hips lift, ass rising off the pillows. I hold him down with a firm palm, pinning him where I want him as I lower my mouth to his cock.

  “Ah! That’s—” Orion twitches.

  The scent of his slick has me diamond hard.

  Lowering until he’s sheathed in my mouth, I work my throat as I trace his entrance with a fingertip. Already soaking for me. His slick drips onto the sheets. Fuck yeah. A satisfied rumble builds in my chest. The vibration has him moaning, bucking his hips, driving into my throat.

  I pull back, releasing his cock with a wet plop, and kissing the weeping head as I drag him by his knees.

  Now his eyes are glassy for all the right reasons as he stares up at me with that glazed, fuck-me-dead look that has me aching to fulfill his every desire.

  Pushing apart thighs dusted with soft blond hair, I kneel between his legs and lift his hips off the bed. His cock rides high and hard against his belly, glistening with pre-cum and my spit.

  He’s dripping for me, silvery strands of slick falling to the sheets, soaking them with his scent and his need.

  “Ready for me?” I kiss his navel, licking down the hard plane of his stomach, all the way to his slick-soaked crease.

  Hand to god, his slick tastes like cider apples.

  It doesn’t, but pheromones are a fucking mind trip.

  His sweetness makes me crave him every moment of every
fucking day, and I wonder what he sees in me that even lets him tolerate me when I’ve treated him so shitty.

  I swear, I’ll make it up to him.

  I swear, I’ll worship him the way he deserves.

  I swear, I’ll burn away the image of Lilah pressed between us, my cock buried in her sweet pussy while Orion fucks her from behind.

  I tease my tongue inside him, making him buck and whine. His scent sharpens with need. “Please. Don’t fucking tease… I can’t… I need…”

  I’d do fucking anything to be worthy of him.

  I slide off my belt, kick off my pants, and free the straining length of my cock. It’s thick with need for him, my balls drawn up as my knot swells at the base, aching to sink inside his ass.

  Orion licks his lips, gaze locked on my knot. Hypnotized, he crawls to me, drawn to me the same way I’m drawn to him. It’s not his mouth I’m craving tonight.

  I grab him by the hips and flip him so he can brace against the headboard because I’m about to rail the shit out of him.

  Slow, gentle, I remind myself, not giving into the rising violence that wants to rut and fuck ‘til he’s screaming my name.

  I work him open with my fingers, but it doesn’t take much with an omega, his ass already slick and ready for my cock.

  When four fingers slide inside and he starts to rock back, trying to fuck himself, I grip his hips hard and line my tip at his entrance.

  “Are you ready for me, Omega?” I tease his hole with my thick cock, loving the way his greedy hole twitches.

  “Yes, yes.” He arches his back.

  Gripping his hips with one hand and my shaft with the other, I guide myself inside him.

  “Fuuuuck.” Pressure, slow and steady. He’s hot. So fucking hot, the way he flutters around my cock, wetting it with his addictive slick.

  He moans as I slide inside, working to take my thick cock to the base. I don’t stop until my knot rests against him, throbbing, aching to bury itself in his heat. I push until he’s sitting on my lap, head bouncing against my shoulder, grabbing the headboard like it’s the only thing keeping him from shattering.

  “Knot?” I ask roughly.

  “Need it,” he gasps, trying to bounce, to force it inside. His weeping cock presses hard against his belly, the tip red with ache and longing.

  I feel the rut just below the surface.

  The mindless need to fuck and bite and claim him until he’s coming apart, nothing but need for my cock.

 

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