Unbalanced Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 3)

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Unbalanced Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 3) Page 6

by V T Bonds


  I stand in shock.

  Seeck stares at me, blindsided by the information too.

  It makes sense, though. Kwame and I felt our lifemates at the same time.

  That seems like ages ago, yet its been less than five months. We knew they were near one another, but we never correlated the information to them being acquaintances.

  “Thank you, Nova. I need her to wake in our den, but when she decides she’s ready to venture out, Britani will be the first she meets.”

  Satisfied, Nova nods and pulls a flabbergasted Seeck towards the cockpit.

  Little hiccupping sobs puff against my chest, so I speed to our den, purring and rubbing her back. I send comfort through our bond, but her sadness floods me out.

  Locking the door behind me, I peel my weapons off and secure them, making sure the drawers seal closed. I even unload the ammunition harness of everything except my Omega and the sheet.

  “Hush, my Omega. I am here. Let me get you down.”

  She cries harder, the misery eking from her making me want to weep. Sleep still holds her, trapping her in a nightmare, and while my purr soothes her, I don’t think she’s aware of what’s happening.

  I sit and pull off my boots, worry making me falter. I’m not sure what to do next, since I don’t know what’s ailing her.

  Here in our den, with no other competing odors, her sweet scent invades my nostrils. My pulse throbs in my hard cock, the need to mark her punching me in the gut. My stomach churns as I fight the urge to rip her free and devour her.

  Harsh disinfectant and other putrid smells waft from the sheet, so I elect a shower as my best option. I sit and lift my ankle to my knee, unlacing my boot as fast as I can with her strapped to my front. It clunks to the floor before I peel my sock off and repeat the process on my other foot. Standing, I shift her a bit so I can unbuckle my belt, then shuck my pants off, leaving my boxer briefs in place.

  Gritting my teeth against my insistent cock, I ignore the way my underpants move against it, the fabric much coarser than it was five seconds ago.

  I hurry to the shower, setting an extended rinse cycle and checking the temperature before taking a deep breath to bolster myself.

  She’s almost awake, her movements indicating her awareness. Her arms keep trying to lift from their confines, and I get the impression she wants to wipe her tears away.

  Strengthening my purr, I turn and let the water land on my back, but my elbow brushes her bare toes and I fight to keep my shit together.

  They feel like icicles.

  I mash a few buttons, changing the water temp, and turn so it hits her back.

  The wet smack of water on fabric joins my purr, but her sobs continue.

  I lean my cheek down onto the top of her head, rub her back, and sway side to side, holding and comforting her in the way I sense she needs.

  Forgetting my arousal is impossible, but her emotional needs are more important.

  Mine.

  My Omega.

  My lifemate.

  Mine.

  Chapter Eight

  Shya

  Little bits of heaven sneak into my sadness, but I push them away. I want to cry.

  They made me dirty and cold and I don’t care what they’re doing now. They could be feeding me chocolate chip cookies and letting me take a hot bath and I’d still refuse to forgive them.

  Maybe if I never wake up, I won’t have to deal with their nasty faces anymore.

  After the accident, before I knew how mean they were, I tried to stop crying. I thought they would help me. Now I know they only mean to make it worse.

  So, I don’t want to stop crying. I’ll cry all the time if it means they’ll go away.

  My tears run down my face, and I force more out. They fall easily since I feel so gross inside.

  Wait.

  There’s something warm and comforting against my face, the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt. Wet fabric blocks me from feeling it’s texture, but the vibrations flowing into my cheek have so much rich power it breaks my concentration.

  It’s like the strong hands that wielded such gentle care when I was at my weakest, giving encouragement and fuel to my destroyed body. When I was on the brink of death, his soft whispers and firm resolve pulled me away from the ledge, coaching me to life.

  These unyielding reverberations begin in my skin and sink deeper, through my muscles and bones, until my soul has no choice but to shake free from my misery. My pain shatters, tiny pieces scattering within my whirlwind of emotions, but instead of slicing me up, the vibrations hold them static, suspended in the air, useless and non-threatening.

  Massive theoretical hands engulf them, gathering them together and hiding them away.

  My insides shake for a different reason. The thrumming of my heart changes from unhappy lethargy to pounding disbelief.

  The smell of freedom fills my nostrils, a wild masculine scent so potent I envision statues of warlords and huge fighting beasts.

  When I try to lift my head, I find I’m bound to the wonderful source of vibration.

  Purring.

  It knits into my heart and through my lifemating bond, and joy unlike any I’ve ever felt springs through me.

  I still can’t move my head, and when I open my eyes all I see is fabric.

  My arms won’t move, but no panic comes with the realization. His heat seeps into my front, more effective than the shower pummeling my back, and a big part of me doesn’t want to move from this comfortable position.

  The other part needs to see him.

  I need to meet my lifemate.

  I want my Alpha.

  Now.

  My lax muscles enjoy his purr, but my heart demands more. I wriggle, eager to see his face, and my intimates wake with the rubbing.

  Which is confusing. I feel dirty, but it also feels right to react to him.

  I squeak and struggle in earnest.

  “Hold on, little one. I’ve got you.”

  Heat blooms inside me as his voice works through my body, and impatience takes over.

  “Let me up. Now!” my hoarse voice may be scratchier than normal, but cannot compete with his gravelly perfection.

  The world stops moving as he stands still, and I regret being demanding. He’s so big, but he left me and they hurt me, and I should be mad at him, but I know in my heart he’ll never be mean to me. His attention has always been kind, but I need a face to put with the male who owns my soul. I am impatient.

  “Okay, my Omega.” He says as his hands caress my head and back through the sheet. They leave me to mess with something at his shoulders, and whatever is holding me loosens. I squeak again as I slide lower on his chest, fearful I may fall to the floor.

  “Shh, I’ve got you.” His deep voice soothes my nerves, and as he pulls the sheet off my head, I stare at his humongous arms.

  His bicep fills my vision, the largest muscle I’ve seen in my entire life. I think it’s as big as my head! Fright lumps in my throat and fresh tears burn my eyes.

  His purr grows more gravelly, and the straps stop moving before his massive hands engulf either side of my head.

  My heart pounds into my throat, his hands guiding my view across his shoulder and up his throat to meet his eyes.

  Fear flies away. Pain stops.

  Brilliant blue irises swallow my anxiety, his gaze piercing me to my soul. His high cheekbones and strong chin frame the most sensual lips in all existence. Golden hair lays plastered to his head, the water unable to hide the glorious color. A matching beard and mustache, cropped close to his face, accentuate his masculinity.

  He is huge.

  Powerful.

  And focused solely on me.

  After a few unreadable emotions flit across his features, his lips tilt in a smile.

  His massive thumb swipes across my cheek, stealing the single errant tear, and the gentleness of his touch confirms this is the man I’ve been missing.

  These huge hands are the same ones that coaxed me
to stay alive. Even through our bond I sensed his larger-than-life stature.

  Relief pours through me, overflowing in the form of tears. Worry creases his brow, and the show of care makes me even more relieved.

  I wriggle, needing to touch him, and he strokes my cheek again.

  “Settle, little one, I’m here. I won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of you.”

  My muscles relax, but a whine slips free.

  “I need to touch you. Let me up!” My voice is the complete opposite of his deep rumble, the high pitch piercing my eardrums almost unpleasantly.

  He narrows his focus to my lips for a moment, the heat of his gaze making my privates throb, and another whine escapes me. His eyes pop back up to mine, scorching my insides before he lets go of my head and resumes untying me.

  Our gazes stay locked as he unbuckles things at his shoulders, his gigantic hand supporting my rear. When the straps clang to the floor, I stay secure to his body, his strength keeping me in place.

  The sopping sheet won’t let me move my arms, but he uses some kind of magic to unwrap my torso, leaving the fabric to pool at my hips.

  With my hands free, I grab his face and run my fingers over his cheekbones. I explore the rest of his head—eyebrows, ears, jaw, scalp—touching every inch of his overwhelming handsomeness.

  Belatedly, I realize the shower pelts my bare back and runs in rivulets over my shoulders, reminding me I wear no clothes. The warm caress of water around my breasts and over my nipples joins the heat from his stare, and I don’t know what to do.

  Tears of a different nature leave my eyes, joining the water falling down my body.

  Worry returns to his face, and I fill my hands with his soft hair, clinging on for dear life.

  “Cry all you need, my Omega. I have you now. You’re safe.”

  With my soul on display, I bury my face in his neck and sob, keeping his hair in my fists. His robust scent and calming purr help me purge. As my sobs lessen, words leak from me.

  “You left me and they h-hurt me. I thought you’d given up on me. I wanted to hate you, but I need you. Why'd you l-leave me all alone?”

  My chest aches from crying, the words too full of misery even for my ears.

  “I had to protect you. It was the only way.”

  I want to believe him, but the vile things they did to me won’t let me.

  “You didn’t protect me! You hurt me too. Now I’m dirty and feel bad.”

  His calloused hands rest on my back, his touch scorching my skin. Despite my morose tone, he’s already stolen much of my heartache and begun to mend me.

  Smoothing his hands up and down my back, he keeps me plastered to him, effectively calming me with his rich purr and strong presence.

  “I’m sorry, love.”

  My tears take time to ease, but eventually they dry up. He rocks back and forth, and as I calm, my hands loosen in his hair. After my racing heart settles to match the steady thumping of his, I fill my lungs with a huge breath, letting his heady pheromones sink into my being.

  There are still so many unresolved things, but the drive to hash through them has disappeared.

  I crave to know more about my Alpha.

  Rubbing my tears into his shoulder, I let the breath go, a soft sigh slipping through my lips. The words I want to say form in my head, the offload of emotions causing a clarity I’ve never felt before.

  Even before the accident, the world always felt tempered, my mind unable to access portions of my brain. Life was fine, but the Omega side of me never had a chance to grow. I never took suppressants, there wasn’t any need, since my heats rarely came and when they did, they were so mild I could compare them to Beta cycles.

  With no emotions to bog me down and the fog of incompleteness dissipated, my head feels clearer than it’s ever felt.

  “What do I call you, besides ‘My Alpha'?” I ask, the logical side of me making its first appearance in what seems like a lifetime. I lift my head to watch his reaction.

  “My name is Dirk.” His lips tilt in amusement as his eyes crinkle at the edges. “And what do I call you, besides Little One?”

  “Shya. I like that nickname. I’ve never had one before.”

  “Then I’ll call you that as often as I can.”

  Happiness blooms in my chest, and I can’t help the flush of arousal coloring my cheeks or the wave of embarrassment flashing through me.

  He’s courting me, even with the bond pulsing between us. After I bawled all over him, he’s teasing me?

  My core tightens and desire courses through my veins, but worry stops me from acting on my instincts.

  “Dirk?”

  “Yes, my little Shya?”

  “Can I finish my shower alone? I mean-” Fright thumps behind my breastbone as his expression darkens, but I’m desperate for a moment to collect myself.

  “What I mean is, I need to clean myself and I’m afraid. Not of you, but of me. I feel… awake. I… please? Just a minute?” my voice trembles, a surge of emotions making my stability wobble.

  Though I’d emptied the roiling negativity my experiences caused, other topics rise and bring fresh concerns.

  Clarity isn’t comfortable.

  His expression softens before his lips set in a yummy, stern line. As his arms tighten around me, his chest vibrates on a low growl. My tummy drops to my toes, a delicious sensation dancing along my nerves, even as fear shakes in my guts.

  “No. I can’t let you out of my sight,” his words come from a mouth with clamped teeth, and for a moment I fear the shaking will make me vomit.

  “But I will set you down and let you have a moment. I feel it too, Shya. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it together. You’ll never be alone again. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

  His growl, words, and conflicted yet heartfelt tone seep into my body and soul. I soak them up, warring between arousal, love, and confusion.

  He squeezes me so hard the air in my lungs squeaks out, but I’m on my own two feet taking a deep breath before I register any discomfort.

  With his back plastered to the wall, his blue eyes pierce my soul, the effort of his restraint evident in every inch of him. Lines crease his eyes, his teeth grind together, and his palms flatten to the wall as he holds himself rigid. Huge muscles bunch, and awe swells in my chest.

  Clinging to the disgusting sheet around my hips, I cover my chest with my other arm, worrying it’s too scrawny to conceal my curves. For a moment I close my eyes and let the scent of the vile blanket fill my nostrils and clog my senses.

  Monsters made me dirty. I need to clean. I can still feel Georgia’s cold gloves touching me and male Beta hands holding me down. Silent tears track down my face, invisible amidst the falling water.

  Dirk’s growl softens to a purr, and I use his encouragement to drop the sheet, kicking it into the far corner of the shower. His robust vibrations make my dropped stomach contract, and I feel his gaze roaming over me.

  With my back to him, I press the controls for a soap cycle, then ball my fists against my sternum. Hanging my head in the stream of soapy water, I focus on my past.

  Since waking from the explosion, I’ve acted like someone else. There have been brief glimpses of the “old” me, but now that most of my fear has dissipated, I see my actions through clear eyes.

  I’ve acted like a child, calling for my mommy and reverting to simple words.

  I press my knuckles into my breastbone, imagining I’m digging through my turmoil to find which question will reveal the truth.

  I have no clear questions to ask. I miss my mother, don’t understand why I feel such a huge loss over Britani, and hate the experience I’ll forever be haunted by. The stress of my reality invades my mind, and I fight to keep my crying quiet.

  “Little One, you’re allowed to cry, but you’re breaking my heart. Clean your body, before I lose control and can’t give you the space you need.”

  He sends urgency through our link, and I feel how thin his control has bec
ome. Letting my creaky joints soak up the hot water, I scrub my entire body, working my fingers over my scalp and through my hair before moving to my shoulders and continuing all the way to my toes.

  His deepening purr makes butterflies flit around in my stomach.

  The stress of life pulls at my thoughts, and I hesitate. After a pause, I make a decision.

  I let his vibrations carry my worries away, sinking into the simplicity of letting him lead me. As my upset floats away, I realize I changed the shower settings without issue. I wouldn’t have remembered how to do that back in the terrible white room.

  He’s done so much for me in such a small amount of time, just by his presence.

  I’ll deal with more later, but for now, I choose to focus on my Alpha.

  “Dirk?”

  “Yes, Shya?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t, Shya. I don’t deserve your gratitude. I’ve failed you too many times.”

  “No one is perfect. You are here now, and I trust you to protect me. I need you.”

  Massive hands engulf my shoulders, pulling me back to rest on his solid strength. His wet shirt and underwear prohibit skin on skin contact, but the sheer size of him has my heart stuttering in my chest. I feel like a tiny mouse held in a giant’s grasp.

  “I need you too, Shya.”

  We stand, soaking in each other’s presence as the shower cycles through the rinse automation, and as the smell of soap washes away, his scent fills my sinuses.

  The butterflies turn to bats, wreaking havoc on my insides and urging me to trust my instincts.

  A growl slips from me when he moves away, but I stop when his lips brush along my shoulder.

  “You smell so sweet, like pure sugar,” he rumbles, the sound flowing into my being and shivering down my spine.

  His tongue darts across my nape, and I gasp as the bats inside my abdomen go wild. Something low in my belly tightens, the sensation unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

  Soft and explorative, his tongue swipes across my nape again, and I groan as his purr of pleasure makes my belly tighten further. When his massive hands glide down my shoulders to caress up and down my arms, my skin zings in delight.

 

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