Crowning the Renegade Omega
The Hunt, book 4
By
M.D. Pentacles
©2018 M.D. Pentacles
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
*This book is intended for adults only and contains scenes featuring total power exchange which may make some readers uncomfortable.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
A Sneak Peak at Defending the Renegade Omega…
M.D. Pentacles
Chapter 1
Sickle watched as his Queen returned. Watched the roll of her hips as she joined them at the covered bathing pool. Came back to him. Though true, she was escorted by Giaus, it was Sickle’s wrist her chain was affixed to when the massive Feral Alpha took his leave.
Leaving the battered female soaking in the heated spring as he moved to meet his Queen, Sickle purred. Pleased that the Beta female in his charge protested his leaving after so little time spent together, for Sickle was nothing if not dedicated to the desires of his Renegade. Dedicated to seeing Camille grow healthy and fearless under his care.
After all, it was Renegade’s wish.
“No man shall touch you, unless you desire it,” Renegade said, ascending the steps hewn directly into stone. Sliding into the bathing pool across from a female that should have outranked her, but didn’t. Didn’t come close to matching the wildfire burning in the Queen’s heart. “You’ll tell me the moment one of them tries, yes?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Camille said, demure now that the cum had been washed away by heated waves and Sickle’s own hand. “Does… Does that mean… I’m staying?”
For a moment, neither Renegade nor Sickle did so much as move. Merely watched the Beta female fret and fidget as she soaked.
“Do you want to stay?” Renegade asked, tracing an unknowable pattern on the water’s surface.
Camille’s head dipped in a vigorous nod. “I… I know I shouldn’t want to,” she murmured, eyes snapping in the direction of the pack males and their efforts to make a fortress out here in the beyond. “I should want to go home. To the kits I was raising and the family who paid for my services. I should hate your mate for taking me from my life, and… for what followed.”
“But?”
Camille swallowed, and it was a thing of visible struggle, even to Sickle’s untrained eye. “But I can’t. I can’t go back there willingly. Can’t continue to serve a breeding pair like them,” she spat, and the venom made Sickle recoil—made Renegade sit forward. Licking her perfect, kissable lips.
“And what did this breeding pair do to inspire such…”
“Hatred?” Camille supplied, and laughed. Low and bitter. “They were an Alpha pair, Mistress. An Alpha pair with Alpha kits. A union between two great packs, and certainly lucrative, but not one of love. There was no caring there. Not between the breeding pair, and certainly not for any who found themselves born into that pack. Or bought for it.”
Renegade hummed, but seemed content to let the other speak her mind.
And so Sickle ignored his urge to question, and followed her lead.
“No one cared,” Camille continued, showing teeth through the shine of tears. “Not when the Alpha male decided he’d grown tired of his lady wife. Not when he decided he’d like to start sampling the other females in his pack, and certainly not when he decided he’d like to mount me while I was nursing his kits. It was all I could do not to crush them,” she whispered, trembling so hard the water shivered with her. “I shouldn’t want to stay,” Camille hissed, and Sickle could see that her fists were clenched beneath the surface. “But I cannot go back. I cannot be the one to squash a suckling I nursed just to satisfy the fetish of a sick Alpha. I can’t. So I will stay, if you’ll have me,” she breathed, not bothering to wipe at the tears marking her flushed cheeks. “I’ll help you nurse your kits, Mistress, because it is a job I love doing. I’ll help you raise them in the beyond, and I’ll swear loyalty to you. Whatever you wish.”
Renegade nodded, something… dark glittering in her gold-flecked black gaze as she watched the other female. “You’ll have a place here, Camille. You’ll have gifts beyond your wildest imaginings. Power and strength you’d have found nowhere else. I can give you these things and so much more,” she continued, head falling back as Sickle wound his hands through her fur. Massaged the muscle coiled tight about his Queen’s nape. “All you have to do is take it.”
Camille licked lips that had gone dry despite the steam billowing off the water’s surface. Pretty green eyes flicking between Sickle, Renegade, and what lay beyond their little secluded pool. “Take it, Mistress? I don’t understand.”
At this, Renegade moved. Tipping forward, she went to the Beta female wearing nothing but a smirk and the length of chain keeping her at Sickle’s side. Tail breaking through the water. Swishing back and forth. Back and forth. Coy. “Yes,” she hissed, and stood before Camille. Dripping. Glorious. “Take the gifts I alone can offer, and I will give you everything.”
It was then, as Sickle watched the indecision warping Camille’s features, that he realized just how… perfect Renegade really was.
Perfect for Giaus, his crafty, devious little Queen that shouldn’t be.
Knew he was enthralled to the Omega female, but didn’t care. Knew Camille, too, had been caught up, even before the pretty Beta dipped her head and bent the neck.
“I accept,” she breathed, and Renegade struck. Pressing Camille’s head to the side, she nosed at the spot where a mate might leave marks, and began to purr. Buried her teeth in Beta flesh, and infected her handmaiden with Giaus’ strain of Trax.
Claiming her for the pack beyond the Krust.
Chapter 2
Silver glanced at his Alpha twin. Watched Balkazar take a breath of the wind and shake his head, dispelling the scent he’d caught.
“Anything?” Silver asked, petting at the skinny tail flexing and twitching in his palms. His tail, though true, he was still unused to having that fifth appendage back. The hair was just beginning to come in—thin and wiry and ratty—but better than nothing. So, so much better than nothing.
For a moment longer, Balkazar held his silence. Tasting. Searching for the wild Ferine Giaus had commanded they hunt. Needing to slay one of the hopeless lost so that he might appease the female he’d been forced to leave behind. His Renegade, who’d been taken by another, far more powerful Alpha.
The very Alpha who’d forced Silver to submit with the bloated girth he’d taken beneath his tail, and yet, that very same Alpha had given in return. Gods, how he’d given!
Silver released his tail, letting it stand high and proud in spite of the unappealing aes
thetic. The fur would come back, if Giaus himself was any indication.
“I have their scent,” Balkazar said at length, though his brow was furrowed and his hackles were up.
“But?” Silver prompted, tightening a strap on his leathers.
“But…” Swallowing, Balkazar paused, then said, “But there’s something else. Not far from here, I think. Female.”
It was Silver’s turn to frown, for out here, a female was rare indeed. “Her caste?” he asked, swallowing the eager lilt creeping into his voice. Perhaps… there was another like Renegade…
Balkazar didn’t answer past a confused shake of his head, turning his face to the wind. Brows furrowed. He continued like this—stalking forward as if his feet followed his nose—until they were met with a hard line of trees. “Can you smell her, brother?” he asked, tail rising at last. An eager, if hesitant grin stretching his lips.
When Silver caught the scent, it was to find a thing he wasn’t expecting.
Female though she might have been; adult she was not.
Cowering in the underbrush, the filthy little thing was a messy tangle of teeth, bruises, matted fur, and vicious survival instinct. Too young and dirty for the males to determine her caste, but though Silver and his pack brother had been exiled from civilization, the abuse of children had never gone unpunished by a single one of their adopted pack.
Protecting defenseless younglings was an instinct made all the worse by the pheromones wafting off their Queen, and the virus coursing through their blood. The Trax, mixed with the heady scent of the gravid female they served.
“Here, precious girl,” Silver said, cooing in an attempt to soften his voice. Trying to hide the harsh edge of the natural Alpha baritone that demanded respect. Obedience.
Hissing, the child slipped away. Scurrying through the brush with the flash of an intact tail and the rustle of last season’s leaves.
“Gently now,” Balkazar said, nostrils flared as he took a breath. Head cocked to track her flight. “Don’t chase her. We’ll never catch the little thing.”
The Alpha twins made eye contact briefly, and as one, began to purr. Trying to coax the child from the brush, they split. Silver on the right, Balkazar taking the left, they tried to corner her. Tried to purr and soothe, and drag the wild kit from the brush so they might offer her to the Queen. To the pack.
Protection.
Silver was the one who got to her first, though he wished fervently for the aid of one of the Omegas. Hellfires, even one of the Betas would be better than two bloody Alphas! But there was nothing for it. Parting the brush, he continued to murmur a string of gentle nonsense. Even smiled when her wide, terrified eyes lit upon his face. “We mean you no harm, precious girl. Peace. How does a meal sound, hmm? A bath? We’ve warm, fresh water and an Omega female who will nurture and care for you.”
Her head tilted to the side. Mop of filthy brown hair falling over muddy eyes.
And she took a step. Swallowing as she glanced at his outstretched fingers. Hugging thin, frail arms around her chest. Scabby knees flexing and bunching as if she couldn’t decide whether or not she was going to flee into the shadows.
“Trust is an impossible ask,” Balkazar rumbled, appearing in the gloom at her back. “But we offer so much in return. Please, child. Come. Do not fear us.”
She licked her lips. Shifting. Trembling between the two massive males. And the damp brush began to stink of terror and urine.
At once, the Alpha twins stepped back. Dropping to the soft loam and making themselves as small as possible. Beseeching as they tried to coddle without touching or eye contact.
It wasn’t until the birds stopped singing and the bugs fell silent that they suspected two Alphas might not be the most terrifying thing this wild child had ever encountered.
Chapter 3
The brush crackled, sending both Alphas into aggressive positions. Standing guard between the child and the unknown.
But it was the child who darted forward in the blink of an eye. Snarling and bristling, she threw back her head and howled. Loud enough to be heard, she roared. All but beating her chest in defiance of whatever massive thing was now crashing through the gloom. Answering her challenge with one that shook the marrow of the Alpha twins and might have loosened the bowels of lesser males.
Catching her about the scruff, Balkazar thrust the child behind his back. Nudged her toward the sturdiest tree in sight, and bade her to, “Climb, child! That’s a good girl. Up the tree now, sweet thing.”
She hissed in defiance, but with a long moment of white-rimmed eye contact, did as she was told. Submitted and climbed as high as she could.
It wouldn’t be enough.
Balkazar knew it the moment the trees parted for the hulking beast.
Giaus’ Ferine.
There would be no mistaking Feral for Ferine—not even for an instant. Shaggy, matted fur did a poor job of disguising the deformations, of which there were many. Bone growth that should not be. It poked through flesh in jagged lumps along the male’s brow ridges. Creating a shadow over his eyes that couldn’t hide the rot no matter how prominent the deformity, for the bone was turning black with disease. Gangrenous flesh hung from what might have once been a cheekbone, but was now something much, much different indeed.
His entire skull, in fact, was unrecognizable as a thing of sentience. Heavy, yet not lopsided, the Ferine was changed by the Trax in a way that clearly demonstrated why the packs of old had fled beyond the Krust.
Silver stumbled back, shocked by what he saw. By what he smelled.
The Ferine didn’t bother to snarl or utter challenge. He merely staggered forward, hackles shivering between aggressive posturing and flattened challenge. Strings of drool hung from a lower jaw that held too many teeth—some of which were so changed they could only be called tusks.
“Gods,” Balkazar whispered, and braced his feet. Fists clenched as his sides. “Giaus was right.”
“Don’t let him hear that,” Silver quipped, teeth flashing.
Balkazar snorted. “You intend to live through this, brother?”
Silver’s grin was something to behold. “Oh, yes,” he hissed, issuing a challenge of his own. “Just think of the prize this skull will make for the Queen.”
For a moment, Balkazar was taken by the madness gleaming in his Alpha twin’s fierce gaze. And then, keeping the Ferine in sight, he took up position in Silver’s blind spot. A Feral grin stretching his lips into something macabre and utterly unsuited for civilized pack life.
“For the Queen,” Balkazar rasped, and bellowed his challenge. Injecting the full weight of his status as a Feral Alpha into his voice.
Chapter 4
Lounging as her Beta males worked, Renegade stretched the boredom from tight muscles. Scratching at the base of her tail where it itched something fierce.
“Don’t bother it, Mistress,” Sickle hummed, rattling her chains as he moved to pet her mane into obedience. Untangling the knots with deft fingers that avoided snapping teeth with practiced ease and a secret smile.
“It’s driving me mad,” Renegade snarled, and redoubled her efforts. Scratching and clawing at that infernal spot until Sickle caught her hands.
“Peace, my Queen. You’ll wake Camille before her time.”
Renegade bared her teeth at the unconscious handmaiden sick with the killing fever, because fuck her too. Utterly repulsed by the scents wafting from Camille’s trembling body, and that her accursed mate had left her to clean it up. She jerked her wrists free of Sickle’s grasp, cursing Giaus and his endless fucking decrees.
Her mate had said Camille was hers, that it was her responsibility to tend to the sick while they were helpless, so they might rise with loyalty shining in their eyes. As if Renegade herself had risen with the same glassy-eyed loyalty of all the rest.
She’d vomited the first time she’d had to change soiled furs. When she’d gotten watery shit beneath her nails, and
on her person. Thankful that the volcanic hot spring replenished itself constantly, and that she hadn’t also ruined her one reprieve from the tedious, exhausting daily chore of living with an entire bloody pack of males. Most of whom already bore her mark; each and every one that remained without pining for the honor. Clinging to her ankles with clutching, sticky fingers.
Only sweet Sickle had managed to cement himself in her good graces. Licking and purring, the slender Omega male picked up the slack she left in her wake. Leaving her to suffer the injustice of her newfound caregiving duties only when Giaus himself made it so.
This was one of those times, for though he had yet to speak, Giaus was watching from the edges of the nest. Prowling at the periphery as he’d done since the other two Alphas had gone on a hunting trip, armed with nothing but a devious glimmer in their eyes, and lingering looks at her.
Oh, yes. There was something going on. Something hidden, it seemed, from none but her.
Thrusting the furs away from feverish skin, Renegade stood. Chains clinking, she strode from the nest in a surge of unexpected temper that had no apparent cause. Dragging Sickle behind her, though truly, she had no intention of taking her pissy mood out on Sickle just for the crime of being chained to her side.
“Where are you going, Mistress?” Sickle asked, scrambling to keep up and avoiding the lash of her tail as it whipped back and forth. Keeping her chains free of tangles and snarls, both.
“To bathe,” she snapped, trying to drag him faster than his legs could move.
But it was Giaus who cut her off. Giaus who caught her by the scruff and turned her around with a wordless, low growl; a warning, and one she wasn’t prepared to entertain.
Crowning the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 1