The Omega Hybrid

by J. L. Wilder

  "I don't give a good Goddamn what your name is," he said. "I want to know why the hell you're in my house."

  "That's not very hospitable," said Jack.

  He looked around.

  "Where's Mace?"

  "In town," said Cutter. "Picking up food for the week."

  "Good," said Jack. "I'm starved."

  Cutter was about at his wit's end.

  "If one of you doesn't tell me what the hell's going on, I'm gonna grab this little bear by the scruff of her neck and toss her out into to the cold myself."

  "How did you know?" asked Echo.

  "You kidding me?" he asked. "You don't think I can smell another shifter from a mile away?"

  He sniffed the air again, making note of two other scents. The first was the smell of a shifter girl in heat. It was so intense and overwhelming that he nearly felt he'd need to lean against the wall and give himself a moment.

  She smelled like pure sex—pure, unadulterated lust. He'd been around plenty of shifter girls in heat before, but nothing like this. Everything about her, from her ripe, red lips, to her impossibly sexy body, to the way her eyes went wide at the sight of him, seemed to call out to Cutter, and Cutter alone.

  He needed her so badly it hurt. Cutter wanted to tell Jack to fuck off and leave so he could have her right there on the floor.

  "Yo, Cut," said Jack. "You there?"

  "I'm here," he said, coming back to the moment. "Come on to the study. I want to know what the fuck's going on."

  Cutter gestured for the bottle of whiskey and Jack handed it over. As much as he wanted to drain the entire bottle, he knew it wouldn't be a good idea.

  After making their way down the long, arched hallway that cut through the center of the house, the three of them arrived in the study. It was a massive, high-ceilinged room, the floor covered in oriental rugs and the walls lined with packed-full bookshelves.

  "I'm making drinks," said Cutter. "We drink and you talk."

  "Sure, sure," said Jack.

  Cutter glared at Echo.

  "What're you having?"

  "Um, vodka," she said. "On ice."

  He didn't ask what Jack wanted—whiskey was about the only thing any of the guys bothered with. He poured three drinks as Jack and Echo sat down.

  "Okay," said Cutter as he took his seat and passed out the drinks. "Let's hear it. And it better be good."

  Jack and Echo glanced at one another, as if not sure where begin.

  Finally, Jack spoke up.

  "Got us in kind of a bad spot, Cut," he said.

  Cutter sighed and sat back in his seat, spreading his arms across the cushioned backs of the couch.

  "Figured as much," he said. "Now, go on and tell it."

  "Found this girl in the woods," he said. "Brought her back to the cave where I was staying and..."

  Cutter felt a tinge of frustration. Getting the details out of Jack was going to be like pulling teeth, he could tell.

  But before Cutter or Jack could say anything else, Echo sat forward and blurted out the core of the matter.

  "I'm a Hearteater," she said. "And they're looking for me."

  Cutter and Jack regarded one another for a long moment. Then Jack shrugged, as if to say "well, there it is."

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Cutter asked. "You're a Hearteater?"

  ‘Well, kind of," she said.

  Cutter took a sip of his drink before setting it down and holding his palms up in the air.

  "Get to the point," he said. ‘I'm losing my patience."

  Echo drank, closed her eyes, and went into it.

  She told him everything—how she'd come to join the Hearteaters, how she became the omega of the clan's alpha, how the beating she was given by the clan's females led to her escape, and how Jack found her in the woods.

  When she was done the story appeared to have taken it out of her. Echo's hand shot out for the drink and she took a hard swig as she recovered.

  "Shit," said Cutter.

  It was all he could say.

  "But that's not all," said Jack.

  "Fuck," said Cutter. "I had a feeling you might say that."

  "One of...one of the Hearteaters found us in the cave. He wanted to take Echo back. And I, uh, didn't let him."

  "Tell me what you mean by that," said Cutter. "And don't beat around the bush."

  Jack didn't have a chance to speak—Echo beat him to it.

  "He means he killed one of them," she said. "A low-level Hearteater showed up and tried to take me by force. But Jack wouldn't let him—he killed him. He saved me. Again."

  Cutter let the words hang in the air, not sure how to respond. He glanced outside, the nearly full moon hanging over the tips of the trees.

  Part of him wanted to explode, to tell Jack that he'd fucked up in a most serious way. Still, he couldn't help but admire how Echo didn't seem to have any fear giving the news to him straight. Then again, she didn't know Cutter all that well yet.

  "You're tired," said Cutter to Echo. "You need some rest."

  He turned to Jack.

  "Take her up to one of the spare bedrooms," he said. "Get her whatever she needs. And when you're done, come back here."

  Jack glanced at Echo before turning his attention back to Cutter.

  "Yeah, sure," he said. "Come on."

  The two of them got up, Jack leading her out of the room. Echo followed, her eyes staying on Cutter as she left. He couldn't look away from her. She was so beautiful, so striking, and the heat between them was impossible to ignore.

  Then they were gone. Cutter polished off the rest of his drink before making his way over to the bar to freshen it up. New drink in hand, he stepped over to the large window doors that looked out over the back stretch of land behind the estate. The moon was bright, wisps of clouds floating in front of it.

  Shit's about to get complicated, he thought. Might as well savor the peace while I can.

  Heavy footfalls sounded behind him—Jack had returned.

  "Cut," he said, getting right into it. "I know this was a bad idea, but..."

  Cutter turned around and watched as Jack plopped into one of the high-backed chairs.

  "You really put us in a hell of a fucking spot," said Cutter, stepping over to where Jack sat and taking a place in a seat across from him.

  "I know, I know," he said.

  Cutter shook his head in disbelief.

  "What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked.

  "I was thinking that there was some girl lying in the middle of the woods a few hours away from dying of exposure. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

  "Wrong," said Cutter. "You knew right away that this was no ordinary girl—a shifter like her...Fuck, I could practically smell her scent the second you two stepped onto the front lawn."

  He didn't get into the...other scent, that ripe, hot musk that signaled in no uncertain terms that she was ready to be claimed, to breed.

  Cutter shifted in his seat, his mind suddenly seized by the thought of what her ripe, bare body would look like underneath him, her hips squirming, her face in a tight expression of total orgasmic bliss.

  "Fine," said Jack, bringing Carter back to the moment. "You're right—I knew she was a shifter. And you're right again—I knew that I should've just left her there. But seriously, tell me, is that what you would've done?"

  Cutter knew that Jack was right.

  "Doesn't fucking matter," he said. "The moment you put your hands on that girl you got us involved in some serious shit."

  He stood up.

  "The fucking Hearteaters," he said. "The most savage fucking clan in the region and now we're holding one of their women. And maybe, just maybe, we might've been able to give her back, say it was a misunderstanding or some shit."

  He scoffed.

  "Not now," he said. "Because you had to get all hot-headed as fucking usual and kill one of them."

  "It was kill or be killed," said Jack. "And you know you would've done the same."


  "Wrong," said Cutter. "I would've figured out a way to get out of that fucking situation without starting a goddamn war!"

  His voice boomed through the study.

  "A war you started without consulting us first," he said. "Nope, not your style to think about anyone but yourself."

  Jack's mouth formed into a hard line.

  "It's done," he said. "Nothing we can do about it now."

  "You're fucking right about that," said Cutter.

  He shook his head and sat back again.

  "You know why we're here, right?" he asked. "You get why we're out in the middle of the fucking woods, three shifters with no pack, right?"

  "To get as far away from the tribal bullshit as possible," he said.

  "That's right," said Cutter. "And now you went ahead and brought all of us, me, you, and Mace, knee-deep into the shit. What do you think's going to happen when the Hearteaters find out that we're the ones who killed their man and took their woman? You think they're going to let it slide?"

  "Not a chance," said Jack.

  "Not a chance," said Cutter. "Guess we had a good run for a few years out here but looks like peace is over."

  "You had to know it wasn't going to last, Cut," said Jack. "Three shifters living like this. Only a matter of time before we stepped in something or someone dragged us into their mess."

  Cutter said, nothing. But he knew that there was truth to what Jack had said. Short of moving to Nunavut there was no way shifters could stay out of the rest of the world for too long before attracting attention they didn't want.

  "Let me try to make this right," said Jack.

  Cutter let out a bark of a laugh.

  "Love to hear how you plan to do that. What, go to the Hearteaters HQ and tell them you're really sorry, that there's been a misunderstanding?"

  "No," said Jack. "Smartass. What I'm saying is that I can help us get ready for whatever's next. Do some recon, try to see if the Hearteaters are on the move. Maybe even track down where their HQ is. Wouldn't be much, but it could help us prepare."

  Cutter considered his words.

  "Might not be that bad of an idea," he said.

  "I can leave at morning's light tomorrow," he said. "When's Mace due back?"

  "Tomorrow," Cutter said. "He's staying the night in Montreal, coming back with supplies and info."

  "Good," said Jack. "That means we can figure this all out then."

  Cutter took a sip.

  "How's the girl?" asked Cutter.

  "Fine," said Jack. "Led her to her room and by the time I let her know where everything was, she'd passed out on the bed."

  Cutter nodded.

  "There's something about that girl," he said. "No denying it. She's not just some typical shifter girl."

  "Yeah," said Jack. "Something special. Something I'd bet the Hearteaters are willing to go to war over."

  Cutter sighed, and Jack got up.

  "I'd better get some rest," he said.

  "Right about that," said Cutter. "Be out before the first light breaks."

  Jack nodded and got up and was soon gone. Cutter was then alone, nothing but him, his drink, and his thoughts.

  He got up and made his way back over to the window. It was quiet and still, nothing but the gentle swaying of the moonlight trees under a gentle breeze. But he knew it wasn't going to last. That girl, Echo, was going to change everything. The world they'd been running from was going to come back with a vengeance.

  Fucking Mace, he thought. He's not going to like this.

  CHAPTER 12

  MACE

  "Fuck yeah! Another round for everyone!"

  Despite the deafening sound of the strip club, Mace's booming voice carried through it. Cheers sounded from the men and women around him, all eager to get plastered on the dime of their new friend.

  "Shots, shots, shots!" called out the crowd around him, their faces awash in the strobing neon lights of the club.

  Mace was in heaven. Booze at hand, women staring at him adoringly, and his wallet full of enough cash to handle it all.

  Someone tell me again why I live in the middle of the fucking woods? he thought as he made eyes with one of the nearby strippers, a gorgeous redhead with an ass he just wanted to take a big bite out of.

  She noticed his attention and sidled over, getting nice and close. The servers returned, passing out drinks. Mace took his and brought it to his mouth, his eyes on the girl.

  "Having a nice night, handsome?" she asked.

  "A better one now," he said with a smile, the bass thumping so loudly he could barely think.

  "You know," she said. "We're all happy to dance for you out here. But if you want something really special, I'd love to show you in back some of my more...exclusive skills. And for a guy like you...I'm thinking things might be on the house."

  She batted her eyes and slowly dragged her tongue over her ripe, ruby-red lips. Mace didn't need to do too much thinking to realize what she had in mind.

  But fucking wasn't really on his mind that night. He loved to be around the company of beautiful women, no doubt, but anymore the idea of fucking a human girl, even one as good-looking as the redhead, just seemed to...bore him.

  "Just might take you up on that," Mace said. "But right now, you're right where I want you, gorgeous."

  Mace took his drink when it was passed to him, throwing back the booze and letting it hit him hard.

  He didn't get many nights like this, and he intended to make the most of it. Sure, he had things to do, but those could wait.

  For now, it was all about fun.

  MACE AWOKE THE NEXT morning to the blare of his phone alarm. His hand shot out with lightning-quick shifter speed and silenced it.

  "Oh, fuck," he said, his head pounding. "Fucking hell."

  Mace rolled over and took in his surroundings, which were extremely luxurious. He was sprawled out on a four-point bed in a massive room, the windows looking out over the city bathed in morning light.

  Shit, he thought. Did I rent out a goddamn luxury hotel room without even remembering?

  He sat up in bed, his body screaming in pain from the hangover. Mace knew his faster healing would take care of the hangover within the hour, but until then he realized he was going to be suffering.

  Mace took another look at the room and realized that he wasn't alone. Men and women were passed out here and there, most of the women wearing nearly nothing at all.

  Fucking hell, he thought.

  Mace headed to the kitchen, weaving his way around the bodies passed out all around him. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it in one pull before realizing that he needed to get moving. Mace had come to the city for a reason, and the guys back home would be pissed if he didn't follow through.

  Once he stepped into the bathroom, however, he started thinking other thoughts. The tub was massive, a Jacuzzi big enough to hold every girl working at the strip club last night.

  Okay, he thought. I get cleaned up, let the hangover fade, and I get moving. Just a quick soak.

  He twisted the gold handles for the tub, steaming hot water spraying into the basin. It filled quickly, and once he was stripped down to nothing he slid into the water.

  "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," he moaned in pure pleasure, the hot water making his muscles scream out in delight.

  Just a little soak, he thought. One to get me ready for the day.

  He draped his arms over the sides of the tub, closed his eyes, and let his head hang back.

  Nothing wrong with enjoying one of the comforts of civilization, he considered. Sure, he thought, the estate was nice, but it didn't everything.

  Mace closed his eyes again. After a few moments of soaking, he heard the sound of bare feet on the bathroom floor.

  "Good morning, handsome."

  Mace opened his eyes to see about the most wonderful sight he could've imagined. Two girls stood at the end of the tub, one a stunning blonde, the other the redhead from the club.

  "Well, good morning, la
dies," he said.

  "Enjoying the view?" asked the redhead.

  Mace tilted his head to the side, looking past them.

  "Yeah," he said. "Nothing like Quebec in the morning sun, you know?"

  He flashed the girls a cocky smirk, and the blonde responded by reaching into the tub and playfully flicking water at Mace.

  "We heard the water running," said the redhead. "Thought you could use some company."

  "Company's always ni—"

  Before could finish his sentence, the girls shucked off the clothes and slipped into the tub, their perfect, slender bodies disappearing below the water line. Their eyes locked onto him, sensual smiles on their full lips, each of the girls moved sinuously to both sides of him, flanking Mace between their bodies.

  "Now," said the redhead. "I don't know about you, but there's always one thing that makes up and at ‘em like nothing else."

  "Yeah," said the blonde. "Something to get you all bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed."

  "Shit," said Mace. "A good cup of black coffee always does the trick for me."

  "We were thinking something a little hotter than that."

  Mace was confused as hell. There he was, seated in a bubble-jet tub with two gorgeous, naked women, and he...didn't want any part of it. He loved the company of women, but the idea of sex was still heavy with the idea of total boredom.

  Years ago, back when he was even wilder than he was then, a threesome with a pair of strippers would've been his idea heaven—hell, it was something he'd partaken in more than once. Mace was a handsome man, with a chiseled jaw, piercing green eyes, and a face like a razor model. And his body was toned and taut, rippling with trim muscles. He'd gotten used to attention from women over the years.

  But at that moment all he felt was boredom. If anything, he wanted to be alone, to drape a hot towel over his eyes and just soak.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought, the two girls pressing their bodies against his. Am I over it?

  He didn't have to think about it for long. Before the girls could do anything that he'd have to say "no" to, he heard his phone ring in the other room. A call would normally be easy to ignore, but he knew by the ringtone that it was Cutter calling for him.