by Nora Phoenix
Palani had always said that Vieno didn't have much of a temper in the sense that he didn't explode easily. He was more prone to imploding, as Palani had always called it, retreating into himself with his anger and emotions. But right now, Vieno was shaking with the effort of keeping himself in check, and then he thought fuck it and let it out.
He pushed down York's finger, which was still pointed at him. "There was so much bullshit in what you just said that I don't even know where to start. So let me just say this. You're right, I will never understand or appreciate that you used unsuspecting, helpless omegas to further your own cause. And what's worse is that you're not even sorry for all the anguish and hurt and pain you have caused them and their families. People died because of your plans, and the fact that you're proud of that, that you laud that as sacrifices made for the greater good, shows just what an unbelievably arrogant, narcissistic, devoid of any sense of humanity piece of shit you are."
Before he could even blink, York's hand was wrapped around his throat, and Vieno's heart stopped.
"Let him go!" one of Bray's men shouted, and a little red dot appeared on the prime minister's forehead. Then two heavily armed men rolled out of the limo, and chaos ensued. Vieno stood frozen to his spot, paralyzed with fear, until amid the cacophony of shouting, he heard a low growl, then another one.
He saw the moment York spotted them, his eyes going wide. "There's… There's two of them," he said, then shook his head as if to clear it. "They're different. That's not…"
He'd finally let go of Vieno's throat, and though he had never squeezed that hard, it was a relief to be free again. Vieno wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and forget this man even existed, but he had to finish it now. "You're right. That's not Lidon," he said as calmly as he could manage.
"How…?" York said.
Vieno crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Wouldn't you like to know? All your arrogant blabber about looking at the bigger picture, and you still have no clue how we pulled it off."
He had to stay calm now as he tried to do what Palani had asked him. He could feel them, his mates, Enar and Palani right behind him in wolf form and Lidon still hidden, but close as well. He reached out to them in his mind, then found the connection and pulled it in.
His voice was ice cold yet authoritative as he spoke, his alpha's powers of compulsion rolling through him in big waves. "This is why you won't investigate the attack, Prime Minister. We are years ahead of you and your research, and coming after us won't get you what you want. Bother us again, and we'll show you what we're capable of."
He felt them show up behind him, half the pack in wolf form. Everyone who could shift had shown up, and York was a trembling mess in front of him. York's face was white with fear, his pupils blown. His men staggered back, their weapons dropping out of their hands before they rushed into the limo and closed the doors, leaving York by himself. Perfect.
Lidon positioned himself right next to Vieno, and the omega put a hand on the massive wolf’s head. "Don't investigate the attack, Prime Minister. We have tolerated your interference into our pack long enough. And don’t forget what we know about you, your methods, the fraud you committed to get elected. To paraphrase your words: the shifters will rule once again. This is our time, not yours. Welcome to the rule of the Hayes pack."
What an incredible rush to shift again. Grayson felt as one with his alpha wolf, but also with his two mates by his side as they ran back. Vieno had been phenomenal, the little omega showing all the legends about him had been true. It was almost time to share this with the pack, Grayson thought. Almost. They needed one more prophecy to come true…and it was the one he feared most.
But now was not the time to worry about that. He playfully chased Lars, who pretended to run away from him, only to be blocked by Grayson’s much faster and bigger wolf. He jumped on top of him, making him roll on his back and exposing his belly. Grayson rewarded that behavior with a sloppy lick down his snout, which Lars seemed to appreciate, as he did it all over again.
Sven merely watched them, content to take it easy and trot at a calmer pace. Every now and then, Lars ran back to him to bump noses, and then he took off again, baiting Grayson into chasing him. It was a wonderful reprieve after the tension and stress of the last few days, and Grayson gladly obliged him.
It was interesting how that energy that turned sexual in human shape was more physical in wolf shape. He wanted to run, chase, wrestle with Lars a bit. But he knew that as soon as he shifted back, he’d want much more than that…and so would his boy.
They made it to the back door before they shifted back, and Grayson was stunned for a second or two by the force of it. The power was indescribable, the way it thundered through his blood. His first thought was for Sven, to make sure he was okay. But he was, slightly panting in recovery, two hands wrapped around his belly in a protective gesture. God, he was stunning. He'd always been beautiful, but now, there was an otherworldly glow about him.
Then Grayson checked Lars, who was already scrambling to his knees, his eyes fierce with want. "I need you, Daddy," he said, and how Grayson loved it when his boys got so desperate for him.
"Inside," he told him, and Sven obeyed instantly as well. Behind them, more men and wolves were arriving, but he ignored them.
They rushed into the house, straight for their bedroom, and Lars was on his knees on the bed before Grayson had even closed the door behind them. It was always a balancing act which of his boys got to go first, but this time, it wasn't even a question. Lars's need for him was so big, so desperate that Grayson could taste it on his tongue.
He sought Sven's eyes, just to make sure, and the omega sent him a sweet smile to indicate he understood, then handed Grayson the lube. He reached for him and pulled him close for a deep, wet kiss, ignoring Lars, who lay whimpering on the bed, until he'd had his fill of Sven's sweet mouth.
Only then did he walk over to the bed, where Lars lay spread out for him, his legs wide and his ass on full, vulnerable display. It was rare for him to surrender this easily, and it showed the need he had. Grayson smacked his ass, hard, his belly rolling with satisfaction at the wonderful jiggle it caused.
Lars’s body was such a wonderful study in contrasts. His hands were rough, courtesy of working outside and forgetting to wear protective gloves half the time. And he was strong. Not muscled and bulky, like an alpha, but lean and strong, a body shaped by physical labor. But then there were all these soft spots where his skin was so vulnerable and sensitive, like the insides of his elbows, the swell of his ass, that spot behind his ear that always made him squirm when Grayson kissed him there.
"Daddy, please," Lars said.
"What do you need, my sweet boy?"
Lars pushed his ass back, so Grayson slapped it again, because he could. "Don't hold back," Lars said.
"I won't," Grayson promised him.
"I mean it, Daddy. I need to take it, all of it."
He'd come so far in learning to express his needs. Grayson reveled in the fact that they were finally at a place where Lars felt safe enough to say what he wanted, what he needed, without being afraid of being rejected.
"Do you need me to hurt you a little?" Grayson asked him, running his hands from Lars's ankles to his ass, then back again.
"I don't know," Lars said, his voice bordering on pleading. "I just need you. I can feel the alpha power in you, and you have to let it out on me. I crave it so bad.”
Grayson had already been on a sexual high ever since he'd shifted back, but this was almost more than he could take. "I won't hold back," he promised him again. "But I want to hear you. I want to hear what I do to you. God, the sounds you make, my boy. I promise I will make you soar."
He slicked up his cock, then his fingers, figuring neither of them was in the mood for much foreplay. The first finger slid in without any trouble, Lars merely letting out a soft sigh.
"You're so beautiful," Grayson said. "And never more beautiful than when you submit to
me."
It didn't take him long to work open the tight ring to add a second finger. Lars pushed back against his hand, clearly impatient for more, and Grayson pumped his fingers a few times before he decided it would have to do. He'd be careful, but he wanted to honor Lars's request to make him feel it.
He dragged Lars a little lower on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, his ass at the perfect height for Grayson to sink deep inside him. He pushed with the fat head of his cock against that little circle, then broke through the resistance. Lars gasped, but Grayson didn't stop, inching inside him at a steady pace until he'd buried himself completely inside that perfect ass.
He loved fucking Sven, because his ass was so slick and flexible and could take whatever Grayson would dole out. But at the same time, he loved the fight that Lars's body put up to keep him out. Sven's surrender was natural, almost dictated by his body. But Lars's, you had to earn. His was a surrender by choice, and it meant all the more to Grayson.
He rolled his hips, a first warning to Lars that things were about to get real. He grabbed Lars's hands, pinned them above his head, and curled over him with his body. His first thrust was meticulous but deep, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on that filthy, slopping sound of sinking deep inside his boy's hole. Lars moaned, and Grayson drank it in. Those were the noises he craved.
His hips flexed again, and he snapped inside him with a fierce thrust. Lars's exhale turned into a grunt, and he pushed back against Grayson's hands, but more out of reflex than a real desire to escape his hold, Grayson reasoned.
"Harder," Lars begged.
Grayson shoved inside him again, then again, finding a pace dictated by his body. His hips flexed and snapped, slamming inside Lars with wet slaps. The need inside him grew sharp, clawing at him to go faster, deeper, harder. And so he did, letting go of Lars's hands and standing up, spreading his legs wider so he had full leverage. His hands dug into Lars’s hips, pulling him toward him with force every time he surged back in.
Lars rocked back to meet his thrusts, a clear sign he wanted this, wanted more, even. And Grayson gave more, fucking him so hard the whole bed shook with the force of it, the squeaking and bouncing mingling with the endless stream of shameless moans and grunts his boy fed Grayson as he took it all.
And as he promised, he didn't hold back, didn't show any mercy, not even after he came, flooding his hole with cum. His cock never softened, and neither did he, that power still so strong in his blood, so demanding. Where Lars had been silken smooth heat before, he was now even wetter, and it made the sounds so much filthier. Grayson watched with a deep satisfaction as he dragged out cum every time he pulled out, only to push it right back in again. It was caveman-like alpha behavior, but god, he loved it.
Lars arched his spine again in a wordless invitation, making it explicit he was yielding fully to Grayson. And oh, his alpha was pleased. So very pleased. It wanted to own Lars, claim him all over again. The line between man and wolf was thin, Grayson's instincts taking over. He took him, ravished him, marked him, pinning his body to the bed.
"Daddy, Daddy," Lars was muttering, the only words in an incomprehensible litany Grayson could make out. It was all he needed to hear, that his boy was still with him.
"Hush now, Daddy will give you what you need."
Even afterward, he wasn't sure how he'd known what Lars needed, what they both needed. It was the one thing he'd never shared with him, only with Sven. But as his second orgasm became imminent, Grayson knew.
He pulled out, then climbed on the bed and gestured to a bewildered Lars to be his little spoon. The boy was far enough gone he obeyed, though Grayson could see the confusion in his eyes. As soon as Lars was pressed against him, Grayson slid right back in, slipping his leg between Lars's to get good, deep leverage. He drove his cock so deep inside him that Lars could only whimper, his voice hoarse with pleasure, his body craning against Grayson for more.
He only needed a few more thrusts, then allowed himself to come, flooding Lars all over again. Lars shifted against him restlessly, as if he knew there was more to come. Grayson held him tight, snapping his hips so he was as deep inside him as he could be.
"Hold on to me, boy. You're going to feel this."
And then he allowed it to swell, his knot. It only took a second for Lars to realize what was happening, and then he cried out. "Daddy!"
"I know. Trust me."
His knot grew wider, pressing against Lars's channel, which was so much less flexible than Sven’s. God, the pressure on his dick right now was sheer perfection.
"Too much, Daddy…" Lars whimpered, his body taut as a bowstring in Grayson's arms.
"Relax, my sweet boy. You know this is what you want, what you need. You can take it. Do it for Daddy." It took a few seconds, but then he felt him relax, surrender. "Yes, baby, like that. Let Daddy fill you."
He was almost at full size now, just a little more. Lars made a half-choked sound in the back of his throat. "So full…"
"I know, my sweet boy. You're so perfect for Daddy. Just a little more."
He let go of the last hold he had on himself, allowing his knot to complete. The sob that tore through Lars traveled through their connected bodies, satisfying Grayson’s alpha. Then Sven, who had watched them the whole time from his chair, crawled on the bed as well, taking a spot in front of Lars, who blindly reached out to him. Sweet, sweet Sven, kissing the tears off Lars’s face.
“He’s knotting me,” Lars whispered to him, as if Sven hadn’t figured that out himself.
“I know, baby,” Sven said, his voice soothing. “How does it feel?”
Another sob, and Grayson stroked his arms with a calming gesture. “I feel complete,” Lars said in a raspy, emotional voice that was so unlike him, and Grayson fell in love with him all over again.
10
Ruari wasn't sure when he had decided he needed to see his father one last time. Fact was that Vieno's now legendary confrontation with the prime minister had certainly inspired him. If he could stand up to a man in that position of power, surely Ruari could do the same to his own father. The man was a prisoner here, for fuck's sake. It wasn't like he could do anything to Ruari.
Then again, the biggest damage his father had inflicted upon him had never been physical. It was psychological warfare the man excelled at, possessing the unique ability to make people feel like an absolute nobody with just a few words. And of course, when you were the long-awaited son and turned out to be a weak omega rather than the alpha heir his father had counted on, there was a lot the man could find fault with.
Ruari had felt it growing up, that it was useless to try and impress his father. He would never be the son the man wanted to have, and after discovering a sliver of what the man was capable of, he had been more than fine with that. For a long time, his father’s attitude toward him had been mild disdain interspersed with the occasional rant about him being a useless omega.
In hindsight, it was easy to pinpoint when that had changed. His father had found out about the gene and had put one and one together. But at the time, Ruari couldn't figure out what he had done wrong to deserve this whole new level of rage and derision. He hadn't asked to be born an omega after all, and to a certain degree, it was his dad's fault, not Ruari's. Scientists had determined a long time ago it was the alpha’s sperm that determined the sex and status of the baby. That, of course, was not an argument he’d ever tried with his father.
In fact, the arguments he had battled out with him had been rare. Nine out of ten times, Ruari had chosen the easy way out and had avoided the confrontation. Part of it was because he was legit scared of his father, but in a sense, he'd been pretty rational about it. Why pay a high price for insisting on principles that didn't bring you anything? No, he'd reserved his anger for the battles that really mattered, like when his father had decided to lock him up.
Not that it had made a difference, of course, though he had managed to sneak out during his heat. In hindsight, that had turned
out to be the best decision of his life, because without that, he wouldn't have met Bray, he wouldn't have had Jax, and he wouldn't have ended up here at the PTP ranch. In a way, his father had caused all of that, which might be a strange, too optimistic way of looking at it, like it was meant to be, but it sure beat the alternative of always feeling that bitterness and anger, so Ruari had decided to embrace it. Silver linings and all that.
That didn't mean he wasn't angry with his father anymore, he'd discovered. At first, right after the attack, he’d reasoned he couldn't care less what happened to him. And to a certain degree that had been true. If the pack alpha had decided to kill his father for what he'd done to the pack, Ruari thought he would've been okay with it.
But now that he hadn't, Ruari had discovered that there was a lot of anger inside him, a lot of unspoken words. So the idea of confronting his father had started to take hold inside him, slowly growing in urgency and intensity. Then Vieno had triumphed so gloriously over York, and it had been the last boost Ruari had needed. His father was going to die, either at the hands of the pack or at the hands of the government, who would decide to either execute him or let him rot in prison. Either way, Ruari didn't have much time left for a one-on-one with his father, so the time was now.
He'd debated going behind his mates' backs because he was quite certain those two would have a rather strong opinion on his plan. Bray more than Kean, he supposed, but Kean could be quite protective as well. And he understood—would've probably even felt the same way had the roles been reversed—but this was something he had to do. But he owed it to them to be upfront about it. Plus, from a more practical point of view, he needed Bray's help to even gain access to his father.