Omega Reimagined volume 2

by Tanya Chris

  Owen reached for him, and Fortis chuckled as he pressed him back down. “Didn’t Keesh fuck you any while I was gone?”

  “A lot.”

  “And how about you? Did you fuck him?”

  “A little,” Owen said with a pout. He’d rather be fucked than fuck, which was why Keesh was super ready for some alpha cock, but Owen was also up for pretty much anything, pretty much always. Being officially claimed had unleashed his inner slut to the point that it was a good thing he had two mates to keep him satisfied. Keesh ought to be exhausted after a week of tending to Owen’s sexual needs alone, but somehow his cock was as hard as Owen’s.

  “Well, I don’t care which of you I fuck first,” Fortis said. “But you’re both getting it. I haven’t had my dick in anything except my hand for a week, so buckle up, buckaroos. It’s going to be a wild ride.” Despite the feral threat in his words, Fortis stopped for a moment to nestle his forehead gently in between theirs so all their noses touched in the middle. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” they echoed. It was Owen who’d started using the word love first—something he’d picked up from those novels—but even Fortis, the growly alpha, said it now.

  “That’s enough of the sweet stuff.” Fortis reared back to bring a big paw to his meaty cock. “Alpha says it’s time to fuck.”

  ~The End~

  Omega Replaced

  Chapter 1

  The alpha lording it over us all was little better than a clerk. That was what I reminded myself as I waited in line for my chance to speak to him. He officiously disposed of one matter after another, managing to come across as regal despite being seated at a folding table precariously balanced on top of a wood pallet meant to give him the authority of added height.

  The folding table was draped in a purple nylon tablecloth, beneath which the spindly legs of the table peeped out. And also his own more imposing ones. The cloth bore a stamped crest, a heraldic shield featuring a creature more lion than wolf painted in red and gold. Impressive, except that I spent enough time in human territory to recognize the Gryffindor crest when I saw it. Wolves loved to adopt random pieces of human culture as if they were serious representations of authority, and this alpha obviously enjoyed the authority he’d been given.

  “Next.” He wiggled his fingers at the next supplicant in line and accepted a stack of papers from the nervous omega who sidled up to him.

  Of course she was nervous. She was facing an alpha in what was essentially a court of law, albeit a shabbily appointed one. A pair of scales stood on one corner of the draped table—another human appropriation—and a spindly wood pole flew the Northern Pack flag next to it. Other than that, this might be any room in any building in North Leland. They were all wooden, all square, all decorated with the plainest of furnishings. I’d only been in North Leland for a few hours, and I’d already seen a variation of this room a half dozen times.

  The alpha at the table spoke to the omega in front of him as if she were any other wolf with a legal matter, reminding me, as did the bareness of the room, that I wasn’t in my own territory today. The Southern Pack ran to bright colors and big windows, the better to appreciate the beauty of our desert land. We didn’t close ourselves into dreary wooden boxes, and we didn’t send unprotected omegas out to guard their own interests. If this omega had business that needed to be transacted, surely there was some responsible person who could handle it for her.

  They might have a separate set of hearings for the different castes, at least, rather than expect an alpha like me to wait in line behind a pile of betas who were accustomed to being kept waiting and an omega complaining about whatever it was omegas had to complain about. As far as I could see, omegas got everything handed to them. Food, lodging. Alphas.

  Take that alpha at the table, for instance. An omega might be lucky enough to belong to him, which wasn’t something I could do more than dream about. His hair fell in crystal white strands from his scalp, as if his head were snowing. It swung with his movements, giving his bulky figure the illusion of grace. I estimated his height as about average for a Northern Pack alpha, but his chest was beautifully broad and stunningly naked except for where his hair teased over it, calling attention to the contrast of brown areolas against the stark white of his skin.

  The pinker points of his nipples were at attention, making me imagine that his cock had grown equally as hard from talking to the squirmy omega who called him Judge Tarek in a tremulous squeak. I wondered if Judge Tarek was mated and if his mate knew he spent his days hearing from plaintive omegas, because he seemed to be enjoying it, and the omega was probably getting a thrill from it too. I couldn’t smell slick in the air, but an electric current of arousal buzzed through the room. Someone was excited.

  Me. The someone was me.

  I was standing there glaring at the omega in a too-obvious display of jealousy with my cock hard in my jeans. Thank the moon for jeans. There were certain human customs I’d adopted myself, and jeans were one of them. Many wolves didn’t bother with clothes this deep into wolf territory, and what clothes they did wear were more often decorative than functional—random pieces of frippery that rarely covered what humans thought needed covering, but I liked jeans. Sure they were stiff and restrictive, but they were also really good at hiding reactions I wasn’t supposed to be having. Like this one.

  It’d only been a few days since I last got laid, thanks to a detour through human territory on my way here. I ought to be able to control myself better. But the arrogant, silver-haired alpha making me wait in line as if I were lower than a common omega was pushing my buttons. On the one hand, I needed to collect the payload I’d come for and get my ass back to Southern Pack territory so I could pick up my paycheck. On the other hand, I would happily stand at attention all day subject to Judge Tarek’s whims.

  His nose had a little upturn to it, as if he were registering constant disapproval, and his teeth were so white and sharp. Even without his fangs descended, he looked ready to tear into someone. Preferably me. He treated the omega with absolute respect, but every once in a while, his eyes flickered over to me and there was something less respectful in them then. Something hot and accusatory. He could probably smell my arousal, but he would assume the omega was causing it, surely.

  I turned away to discreetly slip a hand into my pocket, giving myself a quick, unsatisfactory stroke through the fabric. Jeans were good for concealment, not so good for stimulation. Which reminded me that I shouldn’t be doing this here, now. I turned to face the front of the room again and saw that the omega had been dismissed, leaving Judge Tarek looking directly at me. His disapproving nose turned up even higher.

  “When you’re ready,” he said.

  Thus rebuked, I wanted to crawl forward. But alphas didn’t crawl, and Judge Tarek wasn’t asking me to. He just wanted me to step up and state my business the way everyone in line before me had managed to do. I approached his table and made a respectful bow. I was a foreign contractor approaching a court figure. That was all.

  “Carmen Rio Verde,” he said, considering the form I’d handed him. “An omega of the Southern Pack. Hmm. And you are?”

  “Donovan Sandstone.”

  “An alpha of the Southern Pack?”

  “Yes.”

  He cocked his head as if he smelled something off. The arousal wafting off me, no doubt. The omega had moved on, and all the other wolves waiting to be seen were betas. Nothing should have my senses running this hot.

  “Carmen Rio Verde is a runaway,” I explained, as if he couldn’t read the paperwork himself. Anything to distract him from the question of why I was still shedding pheromones. “I have reason to believe she’s currently in North Leland. I’ve come to escort her back to the safety of her family.”

  “We don’t extradite omegas to the Southern Pack.” He placed the form I’d handed him on top of the pile to his right and called out, “Next!”

  “Wait!”

  His eyebrows nearly gave me a heart a
ttack. Or an orgasm. They were thick, as silver-white as his hair, and right now they were expressing extreme displeasure. Beneath them, his eyes gleamed smoky blue. I’d never seen anyone so breathtakingly angry.

  “Apologies, Judge Tarek. I have the utmost respect for your authority here.” Oh yeah. Uh huh. “But if we could discuss this matter in more detail…”

  “In more detail, we don’t extradite omegas to packs that aren’t members of the Omega Rights Coalition. Per the agreement signed as such, omegas have full autonomy over their bodies, including the right to live wherever they choose. If Carmen Rio Verde is here in North Leland, and I’m not saying she is, then she’s free to stay. She hasn’t committed any crime according to our laws, and even if she had, we wouldn’t return her to the Southern Pack to have them adjudicated since we can’t count on you to act in good faith using due process. Is that enough detail for you?”

  One of those perfect eyebrows rose. I’d been condemned—blamed for the failings of my pack, which was blameless. Our laws were traditional and fair, meant to protect omegas and ensure the proper transfer of their guardianship. The Northern Pack had fallen sway to very dangerous thinking in the last few years, and though I had no interest in taking on their entire legal system, when it came to Omega Carmen I had a job to do. Which I intended to do. Even if Judge Tarek’s disapproval made me want to beg him for forgiveness.

  “There must be an appeal process.” Maybe one where I got down on my knees and sucked his cock? I was positive I could smell it. Yes, I was aroused, but so was he, and there were no omegas in the room to account for it. He was getting off on telling me no. Which made me want to ask over and over.

  “You could appeal to Carmen herself,” he suggested. “Assuming you can find her.” He winked one of those silver-lashed eyes at me, momentarily distracting me from the meaning behind his words. So Carmen was here.

  “If she wants to go back to the Southern Pack, no one would stop her. But let me warn you, Alpha Donovan”—was I imagining that he sneered the word alpha?— “if you make any attempt to remove her by force, we’ll come after you. I’ll come after you personally, and I will personally make you regret it. Next!” he bellowed at the impatient beta crowding behind me, as if he hadn’t just challenged me.

  I took a few steps off to the side, clearing the space in front of his table, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away completely. Recent changes in Northern Pack law had given us down south the idea that the alphas up here were getting soft, that they’d lost too much of what made them alphas. But if Tarek was anything to go by, we were thoroughly mistaken. He’d challenged me with the confidence of assured victory. If I tried to smuggle Carmen out of North Leland, he’d come after me.

  It made me want to do it.

  But as strained as the relations between our packs had grown in the last couple of years, I wasn’t ready to start an actual war. Not yet. Tarek had let me know, whether intentionally or not, that the omega I was after was here, in the village. It was only a matter of finding her and convincing her to return with me. Surely, she must be desperate for proper guardianship by now, perhaps in a situation she’d be happy to be rescued from. Once I assured her that her father would forgive her disobedience—that she’d be allowed to return home to be claimed by a suitable alpha—she’d come with me willingly enough.

  And if I had to use a bit of alpha persuasion to make my case, I knew how to do that. My tastes might run to other alphas—to the harshest, most dominant alphas—but that secret was mine and mine alone. I knew how to play my role.

  The main reason I worked in omega retrieval was because it gave me frequent reason to pass through human territory where I could get my sexual needs met without risking the judgement I’d find on pack lands. But a side benefit of the job was that it gave me plenty of opportunities to practice the skills an alpha ought to have. The voice, the pheromones, the consoling, commanding hand cupped around the base of the skull. Omegas were easy prey, and I was an experienced hunter. All I had to do was find Carmen.

  The beta who’d been in line after me got even less of Tarek’s time than I had, but she left with a smile. Tarek’s gaze followed her, coming to a halt as she passed by me. He raised one of those impressive eyebrows. The gesture was mocking this time, not condemnatory. He’d put me in my place, and he knew it. Making no effort to disguise what he was doing, he reached below the table and gave himself a squeeze, as if I were a scantily dressed omega he had the right to ogle. His grip was hard enough that the tendons in his forearm popped. What would it feel like to have that hand around my own cock, maybe with the claws out?

  I barely restrained myself from mimicking his gesture, turning and stumbling from the dim room out into the sunlight. It was like waking from a dream only to find myself in the same situation I’d been dreaming about. Alpha Tarek was no longer in view, but the silver image he’d burned on my retinas refused to dim. As I walked away from the court house, Tarek walked with me.

  Chapter 2

  My next stop was the Immigration Office. If Carmen was in North Leland, they ought to have her registered as a foreign wolf and would know where I could pick her up. I’d planned to swing by there anyway. I’d expected to have an Order of Deportation with me, but okay. We’d do this the hard way.

  I got paid to bring omegas home. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it wasn’t. Tarek was doing his best to make this job difficult, but I’d rather fish an omega out of Northern Pack territory than try to track one down in human territory any day.

  Humans couldn’t tell an alpha from an omega. When a big guy like me showed up looking for a little thing like Carmen, they started screaming about stalking or domestic abuse. They didn’t understand that the Great Mother had given alphas the responsibility to protect, and that with that responsibility to protect came the right to control—that one was necessary for the other. To humans, a wolf was a wolf, and a wolf was a person, and people were all the same.

  Which was why human territory was the one place I could safely get myself fucked. To humans, I wasn’t an alpha. I was just a wolf. And if the guy fucking me asked about my caste—because he’d heard the terms and got off on the concept of them—I lied. I gave him the answer he wanted to hear: “I’m an omega, Master. I’m your omega, Alpha.” So what if the words ripped through my chest like claws? I was there for the pain anyway.

  The Immigration Office was a few streets back from the main square—a squat building marked with an uninspired sign. I pushed open the door and was unsurprised to find a barren, wood-paneled room on the other side of it. A row of three ladder-back chairs faced me, and a counter ran the length of the room to my right.

  A closed door across from me suggested that “Alpha Ryker, Immigration Officer” was busy at work, but a female beta sat at a computer behind the counter. She greeted me with what could almost be called a smile. That was what she’d been trying for, anyway. She had a shaved head and wore a suit straight out of the movie I’d watched in my hotel room a few days ago that had to have been thirty years old. The movie, that was. The suit was brand new and pressed with so much starch it crackled when she swung around in her chair to face me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” I gave her the smile I used on betas, the one that said I recognized her competence and appreciated that she was going to use it to make my life easier. “My name’s Donovan Sandstone. I’m looking for a friend of mine. Thought you might know where I could find her.”

  “Your friend is Southern Pack?” the beta asked, correctly guessing my pack from my coloring. I had the reddish brown hair typical of wolves from the south, though I wore mine shorter than most of my neighbors. I found I got better cooperation from human authorities when my presentation matched their gender expectations, so I always made my first stop in human territory the barbershop.

  “She’s as Southern Pack as I am,” I confirmed to the beta with a friendly nod and a show of teeth. Since I didn’t have that Order of Deportation, there
was no point triggering any alarm bells yet. Carmen and I were old buddies catching up, that was all.

  “Her name’s Carmen Rio Verde. An omega. I have a picture.” I pulled out my phone, which was a human convenience I’d grown pretty accustomed to. There wasn’t any service in North Leland, but the photos were downloaded. Before I could call one up, the door at the back banged open and a mostly naked alpha came crashing through it.

  “Don’t tell him anything, Macy.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” the beta said.

  “Tarek just called to warn me about him.” He pointed a finger at me, as if there were anyone else in the room. “He’s a bounty hunter looking for Carmen.”

  Carmen. Very friendly. Didn’t sound like I needed a picture. I repocketed my phone as Macy gave the alpha an annoyed glare before turning her eyes on me. Almost everyone up here had blue eyes, but hers were particularly cold. And they weren’t granting me any respect just because of my caste.

  “Stay away from Carmen,” the alpha warned me.

  I could guess this was Alpha Ryker, Immigration Officer. He was a huge-and-handsome hunk of flesh, sporting a loin cloth that barely covered what I could see was a sizable bulge. The black hair braided down his back said he was Western Pack, and he was a good example of it too, as big as they made them. I was churned up enough from my recent encounter with Tarek to recognize his appeal, but he didn’t have the quiet control Tarek did. There was a comic book quality to him, as if he were a stereotypical rendition of an alpha rather than an actual alpha. An alpha once removed.

  “Stay away from Gage too,” he ordered.

  “Gage?” I racked my brain, trying to figure out why that name sounded familiar. “Carmen’s brother?” He’d left town before she did, but that had all been on the up-and-up. Last I’d heard, he’d moved to human territory, but if he wanted to live in North Leland, no one was going to stop him.