Omega Reimagined volume 2

by Tanya Chris

  An ordeal. First I’d gone to Rio Verde where I’d tried—and failed—to convince Carmen’s father she was fine where she was. I’d returned his deposit, but I hadn’t left him satisfied.

  From there I’d moved on to Four Forks, to pack up what was worth hauling this far north and say goodbye to my family. To tell them I had a mate, to see if they’d guess without me telling them.

  Tarek had done his best to give me a claiming scar, but it never took, not even when he applied all his enthusiasm to the task. I wasn’t an omega. But claiming bites were only one sign of a mating. There were also scent markers. In North Leland where we fucked on a regular basis and spent every night in the same bed, I smelled like Tarek, but whether his scent was embedded in me deeply enough to survive a few weeks apart was anyone’s guess. No two alphas had ever mated before. It was all an experiment. So when my father took one welcome-home sniff at my neck and burst out with “You’ve found your mate!” I was on one level gratified. But on another, I was scared.

  “I couldn’t tell my parents,” I admitted. “They guessed about me being mated, but I lied about who. I’m sorry.”

  “Didn’t think they’d take it well?”

  “Pretty sure they wouldn’t.” The rigid ideas about caste roles I’d arrived in North Leland with hadn’t come out of nowhere. That was who I’d been raised to be.

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t tell them.” Tarek’s hand rubbed soothing circles over my back. “I don’t like to think about you being hurt.”

  I could help laughing at that.

  “Well, other than the obvious,” he said with a snort of his own. “And that’s my job.” His voice got more serious. “Your parents live a long way from us, Donovan. If it wouldn’t be helpful for them to know, then they don’t need to. Maybe someday.”

  “Alphas are supposed to be brave.” That was the definition I’d come up with, the one I’d fallen short of when I’d let my parents believe there was an omega waiting for me up here.

  “Alphas can be brave,” Tarek said. “We’re at our best when we face down danger on behalf of someone weaker. But that doesn’t mean we’re always required to be, and anyway, I don’t see how we can call courage an inherently alpha trait. I’ve seen plenty of it in other wolves.”

  Like Carmen, who’d run away rather than submit. Or Macy, who’d subjected herself to more pain than Tarek had ever subjected me to. Or Gage, who had to risk the possibility of misidentification every time he left the house. And then there was me. Who couldn’t even tell his parents the truth about the best thing that’d ever happened to him.

  Tarek squeezed my shoulder. “You turned your whole life around, Donovan. I think that’s pretty brave. And it’s okay to not be brave sometimes. We all need help, reassurance, borrowed strength. Let me give you what you need. With me, at least, you don’t have to be strong.”

  Here in our bedroom, I could be whatever I wanted. Some nights that meant strong. Some nights I wanted a fight and got one. But other nights, like tonight, I was eager to submit, to go gracefully where he led me for the sheer joy of being led.

  I tucked myself tighter against his chest, telling him without words that tonight I was small and needy and easy subdued.

  He grabbed a fistful of my hair, grown out enough by now to make a handy steering mechanism. I loved the tug on my scalp, how I could feel individual strands on the verge of tearing free. I let my head fall back to expose my throat and he was on it in a flash, sharp teeth finding their way home, putting the bite back in me.

  My body arched against his, driving our cocks together, both of them already hard. It didn’t take much to get Tarek’s cock ready to fuck me, and it never took more than his presence to get me ready to receive his cock. Well, his presence and a little lube.

  “Where’s that damn bottle?” he muttered, groping over my body and across the sheets.

  “I keep telling you not to just toss it when you’re through with it. Ah!” My admonition ended on a shriek when his claws told me what he thought of being admonished.

  “Just for that, you’re finding it yourself. And applying it to yourself too.”

  I pouted as I got out of bed to sweep my hands over the floor. I hated when he made me open myself up because he made sure I hated it. The little comments, the hungry gaze. Ugh, I wanted it. Where was the damned lube? Wolf eyes saw pretty well in the dark, but this particular bottle was black. If Tarek couldn’t keep better track of it, maybe we should buy it in a glow-in-the-dark container. There!

  “Now, you know what to do with that.” He propped himself up higher, using all our pillows to make a little throne from which he could survey his subject. I pretended to drag my feet so he’d have a reason to punish me, and he didn’t disappoint. He flipped me onto my stomach and laid down a good twenty swats in quick succession—right on the meatiest part of my ass where they made that deliciously embarrassing slappy sound. Great Mother, he had a strong arm. I’d missed it.

  By the time he’d finished spanking me, I was too horny for games. I needed to be fucked, and if I had to open myself up so he would do it, then I would. I lay down between his legs, right where he wanted me, on my back with my knees hitched up to give him the perfect view, and applied myself to getting nice and loose. I could see he was in as big a hurry as I was. His fangs drooled for me. His cock too. He stroked it lazily, making a point of tilting it toward me, showing me what I had coming.

  “Please, Alpha?” I said when I was ready. More than ready.

  He got up on his knees and crawled over me. “Mm, someone sounds hungry. What does my little one want?”

  Oh, he was pushing it tonight. Fuck, I adored him.

  “I want your cock, Alpha.”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And your knot.” Great Mother, how I wanted his knot. I wanted his knot like it’d been more than three weeks since I’d had it, like he hadn’t given it to me twice a day since he claimed me, like I’d never had a knot before. “Please give me your knot.”

  “On your stomach.”

  Thank fuck. That meant I was getting it hard. He slapped the red heat of my ass as I raised it for him, then pierced me before I could work up the humility to beg again. His cock felt huge after three weeks without it, and that was before his knot started to form. My knot kept pace with his, maybe even surpassed it. Turned out I had a pretty big knot. Huh. Who’d have thought?

  Tarek fucked me as hard as I’d been hoping he would, leaving my cock to swing free and my knot to go unloved until he came, burying himself in me with a harsh growl. Then, finally, he reached for me. One squeeze was all it took. His hand on my knot, his knot in my ass—there was no resisting that magic.

  We curled on our sides into our usual knotting position, a coordinated movement that didn’t require words, and shuddered together until the pleasure dimmed enough that we could speak again.

  “I missed you,” he said against the fresh bite gracing my neck. “Will you have to go again?”

  I shook my head. I’d been careful to wrap everything up. A week in Southern Pack territory had convinced me I never wanted to be there again.

  “How’d it go with Carmen’s father?”

  “Not well. I won’t be surprised if he sends another hunter after her.”

  “We’ll be ready for him if he does.”

  “It’s not just him,” I said, letting the full weight of my worry fall on someone I knew would help me carry it. “Folks are riled up down there. It could come to war.”

  “We’ve heard. We know.”

  We were silent for a moment, made melancholy by the thought of it.

  “Whose side would you be on?” he asked, as if that were in doubt. I’d be on his side, of course. On Carmen’s and Macy’s and Quoitrel’s. The right side.

  Tarek’s cock oozed free with a wet plop. I shuddered at the loss of it, but he stayed tight against me, his arm wrapped strong across my chest and his breath washing warm over my cheek. I wasn’t going anywhere. He woul
dn’t let me if I tried.

  “I’m on our side,” I told him, in case the words needed to be said. “This is my pack.”

  “Then welcome home, Donovan. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  ~The End~

  Omega Redeemed

  Chapter 1

  The omega was gorgeous. Golden brown skin with darker brown hair tied up in an elaborate knot that added a few inches to his diminutive stature, topaz eyes, and an absolutely fierce look of determination written across his face as he studied the building in front of him. A team of betas was scrubbing the stone, returning it to its former whiteness, and the omega evaluated them like a tiny tyrant while Quoitrel evaluated him.

  That the omega was an Eastern Pack import, Quoitrel could guess from his coloring. That he’d laid claim to the stone structure under reconstruction, he knew from the permit that’d been filed. The rest was something of a mystery.

  “Excuse me,” Quoitrel said, diverting the omega’s attention from his work crew. “Are you Omega…”

  “Daisy, yes.”

  That was what the paperwork said. Omega Daisy Herrera. Though Quoitrel doubted the veracity of the name, he had to admit Daisy smelled amazing, with light floral notes mixed into the usual yeasty sweetness of omega. He was as delicate as his scent—barely reaching Quoitrel’s shoulder and slim enough that Quoitrel could wrap his hands around his waist.

  “Quoitrel,” he offered in exchange. “I’m the sheriff here.”

  “So I see.” Daisy’s gaze traveled up and down his form in an obvious manner. “You got the whole shtick going on, don’t you, handsome?”

  Quoitrel wasn’t sure what the word schtick meant, but it sounded derogatory. Since he was on duty, he was dressed in his uniform, which had been purchased from a human website, so he knew it had to be right. His mirror told him the uniform flattered him. The supple leather boots caressed his muscular calves. The cream-colored breeches cupped his ample manhood. The epaulets set off his broad shoulders, and the gold star pinned to his dark brown, form-fitting shirt lent a proper air of authority.

  He pulled himself up to his full height, looming over the omega who blinked sweeping golden lashes at him. Quoitrel couldn’t figure out whether Daisy was flirting with him or mocking him, but it was time he took the upper hand.

  “Planning to settle in here, are you?”

  “Is there a problem with my paperwork, Sheriff? I believe everything’s been filed.”

  “Mm.” Quoitrel pulled the permit from his back pocket. “You gave your name as Daisy. You’re free to use whatever nickname you please, of course, but we’ll need your real name on the official documents.”

  “My real name’s Daisy.”

  “I doubt that’s what your parents named you.”

  “Ooh, you got me. That’s not what my parents named me. But that’s what my name is now.”

  “For legal purposes—”

  “No.” For a moment, the omega’s face was hard—as determined as any alpha’s could be—but then it softened with another sweep of feathery soft eyelashes. “I had it legally changed, Sheriff. Promise.”

  Quoitrel frowned. A name change suggested Daisy was running from something. Maybe a criminal record, but maybe a dangerous alpha. He decided to leave it.

  “Well, welcome to the Northern Pack then, Omega Daisy. I hope we’re able to provide you with everything you need.”

  “Aren’t you a doll?” Daisy cooed. He had the pinkest lips, a rosy contrast to the shades of brown and yellow that swirled through his skin and hair. He pursed them in a kiss, then raised his little hand to blow the kiss in Quoitrel’s direction. Quoitrel felt a wash of breath against his cheek as physical as if he’d been kissed directly.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with today, Sheriff?” Daisy asked suggestively.

  Quoitrel had half a mind to take him up on that suggestion, but there was still the matter of the building to discuss before he could dispense with official business and get down to being friends. Or playmates.

  “You’re probably not aware of the history of this, er, particular establishment you’ve chosen.”

  The white stone structure was unique in North Leland where buildings were usually constructed from the more readily available wood. It was striking, and would be even more so cleaned up, but its history made it an inappropriate place for a sweet thing like Daisy. The whole neighborhood was unsavory, which was why the buildings there had been made available to anyone willing to repurpose them.

  The rehabilitation effort was definitely taking shape. A library-cum-coffee shop stood in place of what had once been the omega bar next door, and at the other end of the street, another omega bar had been replaced by a restaurant good enough that Quoitrel ate there himself several nights a week. But this particular building was the centerpiece of North Leland’s old red-light district: the bordello. Built as a replica of the palace, it had operated under the slogan “Be head alpha for the night,” and a good percentage of the alphas in North Leland had taken the opportunity.

  “It was an omega house,” Daisy said with a cool nod. “That’s why I chose it.”

  “Ah, there may be some confusion there. It wasn’t an omega house in the sense we use the term now—meaning a space where omegas live together. This was an omega house in the original sense.”

  “A bordello. I get it. The Eastern Pack still refers to them as omega houses, but I’ll remember not to use the term here. At least, not to refer to an establishment where sex is for sale.”

  “Right. That would be best.” Quoitrel was momentarily distracted by the way Daisy’s dress, which was more a curtain of beaded strands than actual fabric, swished around the tops of his thighs and skimmed just below the curves of his ass. The strands parted when he moved, but not quite enough, and the tease drew Quoitrel’s eyes more than outright nudity would. He wanted to see what was beneath the cascade tumbling around Daisy like a waterfall.

  “We can help you pick another building,” he offered when he’d gotten his thoughts corralled.

  “This one’s perfect. In my line of business, you want something that can stand up to abuse.”

  “And your line of business is…?”

  That field had been left blank on the permit—another red flag. Between the unlikely name and the missing data, Quoitrel’s suspicions had been raised, and the shrewd look Daisy gifted him with now suggested he’d been right to be suspicious. Daisy was clearly evaluating him, deciding whether to lie or evade. He blinked his silky eyelashes and gave the strings of beads a flirty swirl.

  Quoitrel crossed his arms over his chest as his alpha ego realized Daisy was only flirting with him as a form of manipulation. Which was a shame, because he could really go for some omega ass. He agreed with the principle behind closing down the bordello, but it had led to a long dry spell for him personally. He didn’t seem to have the hang of forming the kind of relationships that might get him laid.

  But he was sheriff first and a horny alpha second. He couldn’t let Daisy get away with whatever he was trying to get away with just because he was pretty and smelled like a fuckable bouquet.

  “Might as well come clean now,” he warned. “It’s not like you’ll be able to hide it.”

  “A bordello.”

  “Yes, as I mentioned, this used to be—”

  “That’s what I’m opening,” Daisy said. “A bordello. Which is why I need something sturdy. I’ll bet you know how destructive alphas can be when they get rowdy. But they won’t be able to claw their way through those walls.” Daisy indicated the heavy façade with a wave.

  The betas were doing a good job with it. The white stone sparkled clean in the cold winter sun, and the iron bars guarding the windows had been sanded down to bare metal.

  “I’m having the whole place fitted out just like it used to be. Mock throne room, gilt edging, the whole look. Why start over from scratch?”

  Well, sure. If a person were going to open a bordello in North Leland, this woul
d be the place to do it, but local laws no longer permitted bordellos, and Quoitrel couldn’t understand why an omega, of all people, would want to open one. The former establishment had been owned by a particularly unctuous alpha who’d lured omegas from the bars—where they’d exchanged sex for company but were at least free to go home at night—into this white marble prison. The alpha’s promises of shelter and care were so many lies. Once an omega ended up in his clutches, they never made it out. So as sweet as Daisy seemed, if he was willing to sentence his fellow omegas to a fate like that, then he must actually be a selfish little prick.

  Quoitrel hardened his heart to the pretty picture Daisy made. “Prostitution is illegal in the Northern Pack. We don’t sell our omegas here.”

  “Well, I’m not planning to sell anyone else’s omega.”

  “What are you planning to sell then?”

  “Myself.”

  “Okay, but that’s— You’re still selling an omega.”

  “I thought the Northern Pack gave omegas full autonomy over their own bodies.”

  “They do.” Quoitrel was proud of that fact, proud especially of his role in helping get those laws passed and in enforcing them, even if he sometimes missed taking his own shameful pleasure behind that door made of white abalone and trimmed in gold leaf.

  “Then there you go,” Daisy said, as if something had been resolved. “I have autonomy over my body. You don’t deny that, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I can have sex with any wolf in North Leland, right?”

  “Absolutely. As long as you don’t, um, charge for it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the law.” It wasn’t complicated. In order to protect omegas from abusive alphas, prostitution had been made illegal. If an omega wanted to have sex of their own free will, they could, but no one had the right to coerce or force them into unwanted sexual contact. That was the law, and Quoitrel was the sheriff.