Roman: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance

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Roman: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance Page 12

by Callie Rhodes


  For Phoebe, bonding with an alpha was the furthest thing from her mind the day she'd arrived in the sleeper cab of a stolen tanker. Predictably, her initial reaction had been horror and fear. It had taken time for her to fully appreciate the implications of her omega nature and what it meant for her life.

  But she'd been so wrapped up in her own drama that it had never occurred to her to wonder if all of this—her arrival, transition to an omega, their bond—had been something that he wanted. She'd assumed that every alpha wanted an omega. That's what she'd been taught in school, but what if that wasn't true?

  What if Roman felt as trapped as she had at first? He may have spent the better part of his life as a powerful alpha accustomed to getting everything he wanted, but this was clearly as new to him as it was to her. They were navigating these uncharted waters together. Maybe a little kindness and patience was in order.

  "I'm sorry," Phoebe said. "I never realized what life was like for you in the Boundarylands. I always thought that alphas came here because they wanted to. That they were happiest here. I…never considered that it was even possible for you to be lonely."

  "Neither did I," Roman admitted, not looking at her. "Not until you showed up."

  That was not the response Phoebe had expected. She couldn't believe her ears—his sentiment bordered on sweet. Not at all the kind of thing she had become used to hearing from her terse alpha.

  But it was also true—Phoebe would swear to it. And not just because she knew he never lied, but because she could feel it in her bones, at the very core of who she was.

  On the heels of that realization, Phoebe was struck by a new understanding.

  "That's why you were so afraid when you thought I was going to leave with my family," she said. "You didn't know if you would be able to go on without me if I did."

  Roman's expression darkened into a scowl, and Phoebe was afraid she'd gone too far—until he reached for her hand and pressed it between his. "I wasn't afraid because I never would have allowed it to happen," he growled.

  Phoebe fought to keep her expression neutral. Roman might not realize that he'd spoken a lie and a truth all wrapped up in one, but the last thing Phoebe was going to do was call him out on it. Her alpha couldn't even see his fear for what it was.

  Just as with the overwhelming need to be by her side, the emotion was far too new for him to fully understand it. Better to let him think if it as discomfort, or even rage or fury if he must until he was ready to accept this new facet of his being.

  "It's all right," she said gently. "I didn't realize it at the time either, but I'm beginning to see that I would never be able to leave."

  Roman kept his gaze on their twined hands. "You feel it too then? This bond between us?"

  "I think…yes. I do."

  The sensation was different than the desire Phoebe felt for Roman's body. It was so much more than some hormonal or chemical reaction. It wasn't even a result of her shifting nature. And even though it wasn't tangible, it was still real in a way that nothing in her life had ever felt real before.

  Even now, she could feel the connection strengthening between them, a force as unstoppable as gravity. She leaned into his touch, only to have him lift her off the little table and into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

  "I told you it was too soon for you to be out of bed," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Are you ever going to listen to me?"

  Phoebe nestled into his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady against her cheek. "Maybe," she murmured. "And I will happily go back to bed…as long as you stop sulking out here in the dark and come with me."

  Roman didn't have to be asked twice. "I wasn't sulking," he told her as he lifted her up in his arms and started carrying her back inside. "I was watching the stars."

  "And sulking," Phoebe teased.

  "Girl, do you know what happens to an omega who talks back to her alpha?" Roman's chest rumbled in that sexy way that made her slick start to flow.

  "No," Phoebe said, "But I hope I'm about to find out."

  Chapter Fifteen

  If Phoebe had expected things to quiet down in the bedroom in the next few days, she was mistaken. It was hard enough to wrap her mind around the fact that, once a month, she would be overcome by the overwhelming need to mate for days, only to be restored to the rapturous state of contentment that followed. But she was truly astounded that she and Roman would be at it again, so soon after, their passion for each other undiminished.

  They couldn't keep their hands off each other, making love every day, usually more than once. Sometimes it started before breakfast…and sometimes they went back for a second round for lunch.

  And even though Phoebe was often sore as a result, she felt better—stronger, more energetic, happier—than ever before.

  A week after her heat had ended, she was drying dishes at the kitchen sink, watching Roman stoke the fire that roasted the coffee in the rotating copper drum up the hill out back. It was a splendid view, all rippling, glistening muscles in the early autumn sun. The morning had a nip in the air, but as the sun rose in the sky, Roman had pulled off his shirt and hung it on a nearby branch, and now she planned to feast her eyes on the sight until he came in for lunch.

  They had settled into a routine in which Phoebe took care of the house and prepared the meals, while Roman maintained his property and all of his various projects. He hunted for game and fished in the crystal waters of the creek that meandered through his land. He'd also built a series of raised beds to grow vegetables in, teasing her that he couldn't keep up with her appetite.

  It was true that Phoebe was enjoying the simple, nourishing fare that she prepared from the stores she found in the root cellar, the smokehouse, and the larder. Before, she'd had to keep the cupboards stocked with all the processed foods her father and brother expected. She'd often skipped meals rather than join them eating snacks that turned their fingers orange and chicken pressed into unnatural shapes. She'd even gained a few pounds recently, adding a little padding to her hips and ass and earning a wolf whistle from her alpha.

  As she dried the last dish and hung the dishtowel on the peg, she saw Roman start back down the path toward the house. Phoebe instantly felt the blossoming of lust begin deep within her, dampening her panties with slick. She couldn't help grinning at the intense spark of attraction that showed no of fizzling out. The connection between them grew stronger all the time…and not just because of the sex.

  Roman hadn't changed overnight. In many ways, it hadn't changed at all. He was still gruff, still clumsy when it came to sharing his feelings. But he had opened up a little. Maybe not always verbally, but he showed it in other ways.

  There was less grumbling, for one thing. He hadn't criticized anything she done, even when she burned a pan of biscuits or turned his socks pink when she washed them with her red dress. When he looked at her now, his gaze was always appreciative—even when it was on fire with lust.

  Even his body language had changed. Yes, his touch was possessive, and Phoebe secretly had to admit that there was nothing sexier than a man who automatically pulled you to his side when he heard an engine in the distance or shielded you with his body when a bear wandered across the property. But at other times, there was a gentleness in his touch that made her feel cherished down to her soul.

  Phoebe went outside to the porch in time to see Roman turn on the outdoor shower he'd rigged. He kicked off his pants before standing under it, letting it stream over the sculpted planes of his face, down his neck and shoulders to form rivulets that coursed over his body. Phoebe licked her lips as she imagined tracing her tongue along the same paths.

  When Roman turned and caught her staring, Phoebe surprised herself by holding his gaze.

  She was more than happy to submit to Roman sexually. It turned her on when he kissed her roughly or flipped her over to take her in another position.

  But right now, she had an urge that she couldn't quite put her finger on, a
restlessness that she instinctively knew could only be settled by touching her alpha. A hunger that could only be slaked when she was in his arms.

  As she walked toward him, his surprise quickly turned to something else. There was no humor in his expression as he let his gaze travel up and down her body. When he reached to turn the water off, Phoebe stopped him, stepping under the source.

  The water quickly drenched her dress, and Phoebe turned up her face to let it wash over her. Roman wrapped her hair in his fist and tugged her head even farther back to kiss along her throat, grazing her with his beard. Phoebe reached for the buttons on her dress, but before she could release even one, Roman roughly pulled the garment off her.

  He knelt in front of her and pulled her panties roughly down, and was rewarded with a gush of hot slick for his trouble. Phoebe moaned as he teased the edges of her pussy, darting out his tongue to brush against her clit, driving her wild with urgency.

  That was all it took. The moment she started gasping for breath, he grabbed her legs and lifted her up. With her ankles wrapped tight around him, he backed her up against the wall of the house. In that position, Phoebe could do nothing but open her legs as far as possible to let him pound her harder, deeper, more completely, until she felt herself rising to the gorgeous peak of orgasm.

  Except something was different this time. Her restlessness had been sharpened into a ravenous urge to…in the back of her mind, Phoebe tried to shy away from it. It was so strange, so unexpected, so—

  Roman shifted, cupping her ass with one strong hand so that he could drive his cock all the way inside. His knot was beginning to form, the telltale swelling stretching her pussy to its limits, causing the runaway train of her orgasm to hurtle faster, any sense of control falling away as Phoebe let her head fall against him and—

  She felt her mouth opening, felt her teeth graze Roman's shoulder as the first wave of pleasure rocketed through her, seizing her like a leaf tossed in a raging current. She bit down hard and tasted blood—Roman's blood. Before she could make sense of what she was doing, he filled the air with a roar that carried every emotion he'd held back—possession, yes, but longing and passion and love and pain and fear and rage.

  And then he bit her back.

  The pain was shocking and sharp, but it turned instantly to pleasure that carried her through wave after wave until, after what seemed like an eternity, she went limp in Roman's arms, tears streaming down her face.

  "What…"

  "Your claiming bite," Roman said, his voice filled with as much awe as pride. "You claimed me. And I claimed you."

  A memory clicked into place. Phoebe had heard about this ritual, but it seemed so barbaric, so animalistic, that she'd dismissed it as myth.

  She peered at Roman's shoulder, where she could see the imprint of her teeth around the fresh wound. Her own shoulder tingled, the ache overshadowed with a sensation she couldn't find words for, a sort of sensual blur.

  "So it's true," she whispered. "Why did you wait until now?"

  Roman lifted her into his arms, a smug smile on his face. "Wasn't up to me," he growled. "The omega has to initiate the claiming bite."

  With that, Phoebe put it all together. The urge that had been growing inside her, coming to a head while she watched him from the kitchen window, was the crowning touch of her change, the celebration of their bond.

  She felt contentment rushing in, taking the place of all her worries, her anxiety, leaving only peace. For the first time, she felt an incredible sense of pride in her new nature. After all, this new primal side of her had chosen Roman to be her mate, forever and for always.

  For the first time in her life, Phoebe was content. Really, truly content in ways she'd never been before. She no longer caught herself daydreaming about far-off places, no longer pined for home. Her home was here. And though she missed Holden and her dad, they no longer took up most of the space in her head.

  Of course, that realization came with a hefty dose of guilt. Her happiness seemed indulgent when she fretted over how they were doing without her. She'd never seen her father as upset as when Roman had run them off his land, and there was no way for him and Holden to know that this situation had turned out for the best. She knew they must be suffering, thinking that she was living a tortured life in an abusive relationship with a monster.

  And then, of course, there were the practical concerns. The men in her family could barely figure out how to run the washing machine without flooding the laundry room. If either of them got it into their head to turn on the stove, they would probably burn the house down.

  But was that really her responsibility? When she thought of how self-sufficient Roman had taught himself to be, not just carving out an existence but thriving in the wilderness, her family's failure to do for themselves bothered Phoebe in a way it never had before. She was starting to wonder if they'd never learned to fend for themselves simply because they'd never had to. Just maybe, without her there to pick up after them and mop up their messes, they would finally learn how to live like real adults.

  All of these thoughts were in her head when Phoebe sat down to write a letter to her father and Holden. She spent most of the four handwritten pages describing her wonderful new life and reassuring them that they didn't have to worry about her. Only at the end did she slip in a reference to how she'd managed the household.

  "I hope you've figured out where I kept all the cleaning supplies," she wrote. "If not, you'll find a whole section at the general store. And you might try watching the cooking channel if you need some easy ideas for meals."

  Phoebe stared at what she'd written, chewing on the end of her pen for a long time. Then she crumpled up the sheet and tried again, this time mentioning nothing about the house.

  After all, it wasn't her job anymore.

  When she asked Roman to mail the letter for her next time he made a supply run, he surprised her by offering to take her to where she could mail it herself.

  "I need to get up to the uplands anyway," he told her.

  Phoebe was startled—the uplands were hours to the north. "Can't you get the things we need any closer than that?"

  "No. There are no supplies in the midlands. If you need anything, you either have to go north or south," he explained. "And this trip, we're going north so I can deliver all that gas."

  "Deliver it…where?"

  "To the alphas who live up there," Roman said, as though it ought to be obvious. "What did you think I was going to do with it?"

  "I don't know. I guess I thought you were going to use it yourself."

  Roman laughed, shaking his head. "You thought I was going to go through ten thousand gallons of gas on my own?"

  Phoebe ducked her head to hide the blush that was stealing over her face. "Well, not all at once. Honestly, I never really thought about it. I mean…I've had other things to worry about."

  Roman tilted her head up gently, forcing her to look at him.

  "Worried?" he asked. "About anything in particular?"

  Great—now she'd managed to freak him out. Despite her efforts to reassure him of her devotion, Phoebe knew that Roman still struggled with doubts.

  "Nothing major," she said with a smile. She had learned that humor sometimes went a long way toward getting her alpha back on track. "Just being a hostage, and then becoming an omega, upsetting my family before going into my first heat…the usual."

  "I see," Roman said, returning her smile. "In that case, pack a bag, woman, and we'll put those worries right out of your mind."

  It was a perfect day for a drive, cool and sunny with fluffy white clouds scudding by in the sky. Roman tested the bolts holding one of the tankers to the hitch, satisfying himself that it would hold.

  Yesterday, he had driven twenty miles to see one of his neighbors, an alpha named Gregor, and asked to borrow his heavy-duty truck. Since Roman had helped Gregor dig a new well the year before, he was confident that the alpha would agree.

  "Word is there's an omega keepin
g you company," Gregor said casually after handing over the keys.

  "Word is correct," Roman said, trying not to sound smug.

  "Any more where she came from?"

  Roman was chuckling over the memory when Phoebe came out of the house with her suitcase in her hand. And just like every other time, seeing her blew him away.

  Damn, how had he been so lucky? Phoebe was so beautiful, so magnetic. That smile of hers could reel him in from a mile away.

  The thing he couldn't figure out was how she kept getting better and better as each day passed. Roman knew he would spend the rest of his life with her and still learn new things every day. Not just new ways to pleasure her, but what made her tick, what thoughts went through that clear, pragmatic, honest mind of hers that was unlike anyone he'd ever known.

  Even before her change, when Phoebe had been his captive, she had never whined or complained. She'd been honest to a fault from the start. Since then, she'd demonstrated her courage and grit a hundred times over.

  Phoebe fit perfectly into Roman's world, but she had no trouble telling him when he was pushing too hard or coming too close to her boundaries. And after spending so much time in bed, she didn't hesitate to tell him what she needed and wanted there, too.

  She was everything that Roman never knew that he was missing. And the miraculous part was that she was all his.

  The claiming bite on his shoulder had healed days ago, but something had changed since they'd sealed their bond. Phoebe had chosen him of her own free will, not because of any demand or threat or obligation. Hell, she hadn't even known what she was doing when she'd sunk her teeth into his flesh—and yet she had chosen him on a level that went way beyond conscious thought to her primal essence.

  As they covered mile after mile northbound on the Central Road in the borrowed truck, an unfamiliar sense of contentment washed over Roman, a feeling that everything was right in the world. That he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

 

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