Gail was unbothered by his show of temper. Her chilly gaze was steady. "I'm not exaggerating, Maddox. If you handle her too roughly, that wound will reopen. If that happens, and she starts bleeding out again, I don't think I'll be able to save her." She narrowed her eyes. "Do. You. Understand."
Maddox pressed his lips together. Of course he did. It wasn't exactly complicated. If he fucked the omega, she'd die.
But even now, her heat was growing stronger, and Maddox's body was reacting in ways he couldn't control. Making primal demands he didn't know if he could refuse.
Instead of answering Gail, he snatched the bag out of her hands and started for the door.
"Maddox," she called after him.
But Randall understood. He stood aside as Maddox stormed past him in the hall, omega in his arms.
"Let him go," Randall told his mate. "You did everything you could, but there's no stopping this."
Maddox cursed himself as he threw open the front door and strode to his truck. He cursed God, and fate, and nature—all the shit that was making him behave like an irrational madman.
But cursing wouldn't change a goddamn thing. Randall was right. There was no stopping this.
So, he put the omega in the passenger seat and drove off…never looking back.
* * *
If he fucked her, she died.
It was that simple…and that hard.
Maddox dragged a hand through his hair and paced the length of his one-room cabin again. Like a damn rat in a cage, five strides across and five back again. All the while staring at the unconscious omega.
But he hadn't fucked her. Not yet, at least.
Only God knew how, but somehow Maddox had held back. He'd jacked off countless times since laying her down in his bed, but it didn't bring him any relief.
Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Once or twice a year, when Maddox went to Evander's to trade, he'd hire one of Nikki's girls on a Friday night. Most times, he ended up wondering why he hadn't saved the money and beat off instead.
Now, though, the itch inside of him was unbearable. His hand couldn't scratch it, and even the thought of sinking his cock in a whore made his stomach turn. An omega—his omega—was the only thing that would satisfy.
Fuck.
Maddox gave up and stormed outside to try again. Pulling his cock free, he stared up at the sky. Hours had passed since he'd brought her home. The moon had already arched across the heavens. Soon, the sun would be popping up over the horizon.
And he would be exhausted from another sleepless night. Fucking great. Another wasted day.
Maddox hated wasting time.
He spit into his palm and tensed as he stroked his rigid staff. He'd give anything to hand this burden off on someone else. Someone who actually wanted a twenty-four/seven distraction lounging in his bed all day.
Someone like his neighbor, Troy. That alpha was a horny bastard. Every Saturday morning, Maddox woke up to the scent of spent lust wafting over his border as Troy returned from another night spent with one of Nicky's girls.
No doubt, Troy would be happy to take the omega off his hands.
But even as the thought floated into Maddox's head, he was seized by the sudden urge to storm over to Troy's house and pound him into a bloody pulp.
Maddox closed his eyes and stroked harder.
The image of his oversexed neighbor disappeared and was replaced by the irresistible memory of warm skin and soft golden-brown eyes. His balls tightened as imagined fluttering lashes and soft pink lips stretching over the tip of his cock. Dark gold hair spilled across the white sheets…tangled in his fingers. Pulling and pressing. And diving into a heavenly warmth so deep, so complete that it swallowed him whole.
Maddox sucked in another breath and filled his lungs with her scent—vibrant and intoxicating. She smelled like the little purple flowers that grew wild in the woods. Her body was as warm and brilliant as a sliver of sunlight breaking through the dark canopy.
He stroked harder…faster…until the friction of his hand threatened to catch fire. Still, he didn't come. Not yet.
He wasn't done thinking about her. Imagining what it would be like to fill her. To take her. Own her. He'd already given her back her life with his blood. Now he wanted to possess her completely. To erase any line that stood between them. To make her his in every way.
Maddox's cock exploded at the thought. A spray of come jetted across the patch of clover in front of his door. Then another. And another.
He threw back his head and roared, never pausing the brutal rhythm of his hand on his cock. Because even though his load was huge, it wasn't enough.
It would never be enough, Maddox realized. Not until he loosed it inside her.
Fuck.
He glared at his still erect shaft. His hard-on wasn't going anywhere. Neither was the unquenchable need inside him.
He was losing control.
Becoming just like his brothers…his biological ones. The ones he'd walked away from years ago.
No. Absolutely not. Maddox had sworn long ago that he wouldn't become like them—taking instead of building, destroying instead of protecting.
His family, from his father on down, had always taken the easy way out, preying on the vulnerable, leaving a trail of broken and abandoned victims behind. Maddox would never be like them.
The greatest day of his life was the day his alpha nature had shown itself. When he went from being the runt in a family of thugs—the one who was always either stepped on or ignored—to the one who was feared the most. He might have come from nothing but low-level neighborhood criminals, but he was a real threat. A true danger.
Maddox had shot up a couple of feet and bulked out in a matter of weeks. After that, it was time to settle a few scores before coming to live out the rest of his days in the Boundarylands.
Maddox liked the woods. It was quiet…serene. For the first time in his life, he was left alone. He wasn't the largest alpha around, but he found he didn't have to be. His scars did the talking for him. Most importantly, his demands for solitude were met with respect.
Maddox settled in fast. Alpha law made perfect sense. Order was clear, and justice was dealt quickly and cleanly. Don't fuck with me, I won't fuck with you. Those were rules Maddox could get behind.
He knew some of his alpha brothers thought he was too extreme. That he was too isolated, too severe.
Too bad. As long as they kept their opinions to themselves, Maddox didn't give a fuck what they thought. He liked order. He liked purpose. He liked solitude.
An omega didn't fit into that picture.
And yet he needed her like nothing he'd ever known before. More than sleep. More than food. More than air.
If he took her now, she'd die…and so would he. Somehow Maddox knew it in the marrow of his bones.
But what could he do other than chain himself up?
Wait…
What do you want me to do, tie him up in the front like a dog?
Randall's words came back to Maddox. The old alpha was right. Ropes would never hold him. But chains? The thick kind he used to haul felled lumber back to the cabin? Those might work.
Maddox drew in another breath of purple flowers and felt another wave of pressure fill his aching balls.
God damn, this was going to suck.
Chapter Four
Hope tried, but she couldn't seem to open her eyes.
Not that she was anxious to get her first look at the afterlife. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to see where she'd ended up.
Hope's parents had done their best to drill it into her head that a lifetime of docile obedience would land her in a place filled with gleaming halos and angel wings. Ditching her family's strict religion to live on her own in the city, on the other hand? Well, that came with an eternity of hellfire and brimstone.
Hope wasn't overly excited about either version.
Her idea of heaven would be the side of a beautiful mountain. A trail with gentle
switchbacks would lead to breathtaking views at the top, surrounded on both sides by beautiful forests and grassy plains and sparkling lakes and endless drifts of wildflowers. There would be fresh air and gentle rain and birdsong.
Needless to say, Hope's heaven did not feature any illegal drug grows – and was very far away from the Boundarylands.
But as she spread out her fingers, she felt something soft and warm beneath her palms. Something that didn't feel at all like the hard-packed dirt of a mountainside. In fact, it felt like…fur.
Weird.
But at least she didn't hear any harp music…and she didn't smell any sulfur either, so she gave opening her eyes one more shot. This time, she managed to lift her lids and found herself in a very strange afterlife.
She was lying in a bed. An enormous bed in the middle of a primitive log cabin.
It had rough plank floors, a stove that appeared to date back to the 1920s, a scarred wooden table, and two straight-back chairs. The only ornamental thing in the cabin was the beautiful stone chimney rising from a fireplace that took up most of one wall.
Okay, this wasn't exactly what she'd meant by a mountainside heaven. Apparently, God had a sense of humor.
Or more likely, Hope was still alive and in the little hunting shack that she had spotted across the lake when she and her friends stopped to make camp.
Right before Sandra and Dave were killed, and she had run for her life.
Hope struggled to sit up as the horrible memories returned in all their bloody technicolor glory.
Sharp pain in her chest made it clear that she wasn't dead after all. A thick bandage was wrapped around her torso, and the pain was followed instantly by a curious thrumming that welled up inside her body. It felt like healing energy that started in her chest and radiated out, settling her frayed nerves.
Hope had to be on some sort of pain medication. Someone had bandaged her up, though where they'd gotten supplies, she had no idea. The cabin was bare except for a few pots and pans and a collection of weapons—knives, clubs, bows and arrows—hanging high on the far wall.
No guns, though. She didn't see any traces of booze or porn either. It didn't strike her as the kind of place the thugs who shot her would stay.
Hope looked down at herself and saw that the fur she'd felt under her fingers was actually a giant pelt that covered the whole bed.
Hope had never been a fan of hunting. She preferred her wild animals alive and roaming free. Still, she had to admit the heavy bed covering was warm and comforting. Apparently, where ever the hell she was, it got cold at night.
Really cold.
She looked down at the unfamiliar clothes she was wearing—a simple blue dress with one sleeve cut off. Her gaze landed on a crimson stain on the bandage where the sleeve would have been joined to the bodice. Grimacing in anticipation, Hope gingerly touched the edge.
Whoever had brought her here wasn't much of a nurse. The blood on the dressing was dried all the way through and had been for a while. Hope pulled it off and looked down at the pink, puckered scar beneath.
Scar? How long had she been unconscious? Surely not long enough for a gunshot wound to heal.
Hope didn't feel overly hungry or groggy, as she would if she'd been unconscious for days. Maybe the bullet had only grazed her.
But no. Hope vividly remembered the scalding burn of the bullet tearing through her back and bursting from her chest. There had been so much pain. So much blood. She'd felt herself slipping into the void as the darkness had pressed in around her.
How the hell had she survived?
And what about the alpha? The memory of his coal-black eyes and furious scowl made Hope shiver involuntarily.
The narcos must have shot him too. And not in the shoulder. A wound like hers would only piss off an alpha. No, they must have taken him out with a bullet through the heart or head.
So, who had saved her? Who had brought her here, cleaned and dressed her wound, and given her a safe place to recover?
Hope shoved back the fur-topped covers, determined to solve the puzzle of her rescue. But a crinkling sound in the linens stopped her. She rummaged around until she found a folded sheet of paper. A small, antique-looking brass key fell out. She held it up to the light, then turned her attention to the note.
GO OUTSIDE was written in blocky letters.
What the…?
Hope tossed both the paper and the key on the floor as though they were on fire.
Okay, maybe she wasn't in hell, but this was some serious horror movie shit. What kind of person thought that was the kind of note a gunshot victim wanted to wake up too? A loner, probably. An outcast ejected from society. The thousand-page manifesto domestic terrorist kind.
Shit.
Hope really didn't want to know what he had planned for her now. But what other choice did she have? She couldn't stay in this bed pretending to be in a coma for the rest of her life.
As quietly as she could, Hope swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. When a wave of dizziness passed, she tiptoed to the door. With trembling hands, she opened it just an inch before peeking out…then slammed the door shut in terror.
He was out there. Leaning against a tree. Staring at her.
The alpha.
Shit oh shit oh shit.
Hope scrambled to lock the door, but couldn't find the lock. There wasn't a deadbolt or even a chain to secure the place. Nothing to keep the alpha out.
So…why wasn't he coming in?
Hope leaned her back against the door, breathing hard, her heart pounding in her chest. After a few long moments, she couldn't take the tension anymore and turned back around. She opened the door again.
The alpha was still out there. Still standing with his back against the towering redwood tree. Somehow he managed to look even bigger and more terrifying than when she'd first encountered him. Maybe it was his wild, unkempt black hair or the growth of dark stubble shadowing his cheeks. Or maybe it was his bare chest—huge and defined—with arms as big as tree trunks that could crush her like a bug.
Her tongue snaked out, wetting her lower lip as her eyes lingered on his chest.
What?
She couldn't seriously be lusting after a creature who wanted to murder her. But apparently, she was. A warm sensation uncoiled in her belly and traveled through her body, lingering at the cleft between her legs.
Dear God, she was damp down there. No, she was positively wet.
"Bring me the key," the alpha commanded.
The creature's voice was so low, so deep, it somehow managed to rumble its way through Hope's body. She slammed the door shut again.
"Come out now." Another command. One that she was finding it strangely hard to resist obeying.
Which was bizarre. Hope hadn't obeyed anyone in years. After escaping a life of mindless submission, she'd sworn she'd never go back.
Hope rested her forehead against the massive slab of a door. She had a damn good reason not to go out there. But why wasn't he coming in here? He obviously knew she had this key, so why wasn't he breaking down the door to get it himself if he wanted it so badly? And why did he want it in the first place?
Who the hell cared? The important thing was that he wanted it. Maybe if she handed it over willingly, the alpha would let her go free.
Hope searched the floor at the edge of the bed and found the tarnished key, clenching it tightly in her palm as she went back to the door.
The alpha wasn't leaning against the tree anymore. Now he was pacing back and forth, wearing a six-foot path in front of it. With every step he took, a metallic jangle sounded.
Hope opened the door wider and risked poking her head out through the crack. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of a heavy, rusted chain looped around the alpha's neck.
What the hell?
Someone must have chained him to the tree. That was why he hadn't come crashing after her. That was why he was demanding the key.
But why? And how?
The beast in front of her was huge, muscular and brimming with power. Even his gaze had an intensity that shook Hope to her core. His pacing reminded Hope of the energy of a caged tiger—coiled, primal, and definitely lethal.
Whoever had managed to chain him up must have used a whole gallon of horse tranquilizer to take him down.
But why had they bothered to keep him around?
"Bring me the key," the alpha growled again.
Hope was two steps out the door before she realized that she was about to give away the only leverage she had. She pulled up short and shook her head.
"I-I don't think that would be a good idea."
The alpha stopped pacing long enough to shoot her a dark stare. "I didn't ask what you thought," he said. "I told you what to do. Now do it."
Hope's blood ran cold. She backed up a step, tightening her grip around the key.
"No," she said, feeling just brave enough to raise her chin as she spoke. "I'm sure whoever chained you up had a good reason."
The alpha gave a bark of laughter that was forceful enough to send a trio of blackbirds flying from their perch on a branch high above him.
"Do you really think a fucking beta would be able to do this to me?" he demanded. "They'd have to kill me first. I'd really like to see them try."
Hope swallowed down the knot that was forming in her throat. "Then who did this to you?"
"I did."
He'd chained himself up?
"But…why?"
The alpha cocked his head, the muscles and tendons in his neck standing out. "Unchain me, and I'll tell you."
Oh, hell no.
Hope had seen that predatory look before. It was the expression he'd worn when she'd nearly collided with him while running for her life. The same dangerous focus shone in those dark eyes then. The desire to control, to use his strength to crush. Maybe even to kill.
But this time, the alpha was the powerless one. Hope might be smaller and weaker, but she was free. He was tied up like a wild animal. She might still be tired and sore from her injuries, but she was far from helpless.
So, why the hell was she still sticking around and talking to this terrifying creature?
Maddox (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 4) Page 3