The Omega changed into warm clothes but remained sitting on the fur nest I made for her after I rescued her from the freezing cold. I nearly lost Montar’s Omega, and had she not screamed, a nesser would’ve found her and eaten her. The poor thing rocks back and forth.
“Primitive but effective,” Dreikx says as he spins his chair around. He’s talking about her weapon. It has shells and shoots those shells, presumably to harm.
I grunt, unable to take my eyes off the Omega on the screen. Her skin is soft, softer than Kinre’s Cyan, and darker too. She’s fit like Kingsley, with bigger breasts and a larger ass, a small nose and big brown eyes, and black hair with tiny bushy curls that frame her oval face. Her lips are plush, much plusher than those of the other human Omegas I’ve seen. She’s exquisite. Human Omegas, I realize, come in all shapes and sizes, unlike our Omegas, who are built small and curvy, in one size that fits any Alpha. Human Omegas also carry Beta attitudes. They’re not as timid as Regha Omegas. I believe it’s a way of nature telling the Alpha males that the human Omegas need to be disciplined more often.
I am only too happy to oblige.
With an Omega beside me, I will join Kinre and Loven’s rank of males worthy of the human Omegas the Serpent has sent to us. After I recruit Montar and his Guardians of Nessetra for our cause. This will double the Horde’s numbers to nearly match the various warlords’ armies that we presume the king has ordered from the battlefield back into the capital, where they will be given orders to march on Ohala.
Dreikx nudges me with his elbow.
“Hm?”
“If you emit any more pheromones, you will bond me.”
“You’re a comedian.”
“I’m annoyed I’m having to breathe.”
“Cease breathing.” I smile politely.
Dreikx hands me the Omega’s weapon and spins the chair again, now facing the broad scanners he refuses to shut off. I examine the black metal in my hand, then bang it a little on my hard thigh. “Can the shells pierce our armor?”
“I know as much as you do.” He powers the ship and moves us forward a few relos. The metal scrapes the cave’s walls, and Dreikx sighs. “I will say, however, even the primitive human race has better weaponry than what’s found on Regha. Think on that, oh mighty Horde.”
“I’m thinking.”
“I doubt you can.”
“Teleans have never tried to occupy Regha. Go on and think on that, oh mighty Telean thief.” Chuckling, I walk back into the cave, where the Omega rocks in what I presume is shock.
I sit down in front of her. I must lie to her, but I don’t have to be an asshole. I grab her hand and squeeze. “What are you called?”
Her eyes glaze over, and she locks them with mine. I rub my thumb over her skin, soothing her. Kingsley described our Regha Alpha identifier, a sound we emit when we breathe and then regulate for fighting or fucking, as a rattlesnake’s tail rattle. For humans, it’s an unpleasant, dangerous sound, so I don’t purr for her and regulate my breathing as much as possible. I even break eye contact to stare at her plush mouth. Immediately, images of that mouth stretched around my Alpha dick assault my brain, and I smile, enjoying the visions.
“Why have you taken me?” she asks.
“I did not take you. You walked into a…light. As I said, the space gate is faulty.”
“If the gate is faulty, then this kidnapping is a terrible accident and there must be a way back. Right?”
“Yes.” But Loven won’t allow it. The king would envy the kind of security Loven set up around the space gate.
“I want to go back.”
The pleasure of Kingsley’s company has offered me an opportunity of anticipating how a human Omega might react. Her instinct is not to fight her new life, but to flee. This is what makes one an Omega. Alpha females fight. I would know. My sister is an Alpha female. This Omega believes she’s an Alpha, but I scent her response to me. Delicious. I want to drown in her pussy, lick her hole, drink all that Omega heat. Mmmm.
She waves a hand. “Earth to Regha man.”
I blink. Distractions, distractions. Where were we? “Go back, you said.”
“Yes. Where is the gate?”
Whatever I say now will determine my course with the Omega. She is here; I am on a mission, one where I cannot part from her until I’ve secured her future with Montar. If I tell her the gate is in Ohala, I anticipate she will try her luck with Dreikx, who’s stuck up here in the cave and will unstick himself Serpent only knows when. Dishonesty is the best policy. “Up at the tip of the mountain.”
Eyebrows, the dark prickly hairs above her eyes, draw down. I know what this is. Confusion. I await her response, petting her hand some more. I smell her heat and know she’s aroused by my touch as she should be. This pleases me.
“But I landed here. It doesn’t make sense that I landed here and the door into your world is up there.”
“Faulty gate. Picks up Omegas and delivers them at random.”
Blunt teeth trap her bottom lip. I want to bite it. I lean in, a smile on my face. Females can’t resist my smile. When it comes to females, I know my assets, and I work my Alphaness.
“You keep calling me Omega, which I am not. I’m called a woman.” She yanks her hand out of my hold and rubs it on her clothes as if I’ve got a disease she can simply wipe off.
“The gate is up the mountain. I will take you there.”
“Why would you do that?” Her eyes narrow.
She’s suspicious of my motives, as she should be. Her instincts are healthy, perhaps because she’s a soldier. The president of the Americas is a moron who provides Omega females with toy weapons and sends them on the battlefield with no armor. I would enjoy killing him, but for now, I settle for just dreaming about snapping his fragile neck. “Because I exist to make you happy.”
The Omega chuckles. “Gosh, you’re so full of shit.”
I understand bull’s shit. A bull is a heavy, horned animal that wastes large volumes of shit. I am now crapping from my mouth. The image the term evokes is unpleasant, but human language fascinates me and expands my vocabulary. Teleans would be shocked to know that as the son of a librarian Omega, I have enjoyed more education than most Horde Alphas.
“Oh man.” She bites her lip again. “I’m fucking stuck on another planet.”
“Sycol in descent,” Dreikx says from the ship’s speakers.
The Omega looks to me for answers.
I oblige. “Sycol is Regha’s sun. It is now descending, and the twin moons will rise. We must get going before nightfall.”
“Will we make it to the tip of the mountain before nightfall?”
“No. A few…days’ time.” I rise and stretch, making sure to part my furs, showing her the abundant musculature of my torso. The human Omegas in Ohala enjoy ogling their males’ build. “Do you need to take a shit before we leave?” I ask.
Her eyes widen, and she covers her face, giggling. “No, thank you, I’m okay.”
She’s not looking at my torso. I make a show of flexing my arms, cracking my neck, mentally preparing for the long journey ahead of us. “There is no bass room or place to squat for a while,” I throw over my shoulder as I reenter the ship to get her weapon and a sack containing our supplies. Hm, Dreikx brought a sack too, and I grab it. He says nothing as I peek inside, looking to see what kind of stupid a Telean brings on the road. I pull out a softback book, intent on skimming it, but empty pages greet me. “Only a Telean pussy wants to write a book while on a mission.”
“Only a Regha Alpha doesn’t believe in journaling his quest.”
“It’s a diary?”
“A journal of quests.” Dreikx extends his hand, wiggles his fingers.
I smirk and pocket the diary. “Excellent soft paper. Gonna have the Omega wipe her ass with it.”
Dreikx makes a distasteful noise. “Only a Regha Alpha would attempt to breed an Omega while on a mission that directs him against the very act. The proper thing to do is to leave
the Omega with me so that once I’m mobile again, I can take her into the Horde stronghold.”
“Wrong. A Regha Alpha completes a mission. I will part from the Omega only when I know I can secure the Guardians’ alliance.” Kinre had parted from his Omega and stayed behind in Queela, and I took Cyan back to Ohala, hoping she would develop feelings for me. But it was not to be. When I realized she was set on Kinre, and when I smelled his scent leaving her skin, other Alphas took an interest in her. I beat the challengers for him. If the Great Serpent sent me an Omega to complete my mission, I’d do anything to complete my mission.
None of the Guardians would dare challenge me for the Omega because I am Horde, and by now, Montar might’ve heard of Loven’s bonding and be anticipating a visit from a Horde male. When I show up there with an Omega, I will ensure the Guardians join our cause.
Judging by the way Dreikx packed, the Teleans wouldn’t survive a trip to the beach on Regha, but he brought food, so at least he won’t starve. I turn out the contents of his sack and take the sack with me, packing a few rations for her to carry on her person in a backsack. When I emerge in the cave, the Omega is waiting for me at the ship’s entrance, rising on her toes, trying to peek behind me to see inside.
The door clicks, and I register her disappointment. Omegas are terribly curious creatures. I hand her the weapon and recognize her facial expression. It is surprise. Did she believe I would leave her defenseless? While I will defend her with my life, her weapon is hers to keep. Besides, I need to know if she can pierce my armor. I step back and thump my shoulder, the muscled area of an Alpha that heals the fastest.
Sam examines the weapon by opening the compartment that holds the shells.
I point at the shell. “What is this called?”
“A bullet.” She palms the weapon and places it into the holster secured around her shoulder blades. “Thanks for giving me my Glock back.”
Ah, she named her weapon Glock. This makes my dick hard, for I’m fond of naming weapons. Protecting the Omega soldier will be a fine experience. “Try to pierce my armor. Here.” I point at my shoulder.
“What?”
“Aim and project the bullet.”
“Shoot you?”
“Yes.” I spread my legs, bare my teeth, rattle out a battle cry. This is gonna hurt.
The Omega jumps back, yanks the gun out, and aims. “What the fuck? Back off!”
I raise my armor, and, claws extended, I crouch and hit my shoulder again. “Do it!”
“What? Why?”
“Because,” Dreikx says through the speakers, “Regha Alphas, especially the Horde males, walk around with undeveloped brains. This means he cannot figure out if your bullet can pierce his armor unless he actually has it pierce his armor. Please shoot him.”
Puzzled, she stares at me. “Are you smiling or snarling at me? I can’t tell.”
“I’m smiling.” My smile is my weapon. Is it not working? If I smile wider, my face might split.
“Okay, then.” She holsters the gun. “I won’t injure someone who’s going to help me climb the giant mountain I saw as I nearly died from the cold or got eaten by something in the wild.”
Perhaps later I can provoke her to shoot me. For the sake of my people and any future acquisitions from Earth, I must know everything about earthly weapons. Retracting my armor, I hand her the backsack. She questions nothing but slings it over her back and around her shoulders, adjusting her gun holster as well. “I’m ready.”
And I’m feeling pretty lucky I landed an Omega soldier. Makes for an easier transition. “After you.” I point at the narrow gap under the ship. “Dreikx got the ship stuck, so we gotta crawl under it to get out.”
She takes a step, then falters, the scent of fear emitting from her pores. I dislike the smell of fear on a female, so I take the lead and begin crawling.
“My name is Samantha,” she says behind me. “Samantha Noell. Friends call me Sam.”
“I’m not your friend, little Omega. But you can call me Kori.” I glance back and wink, stretching my lips into a smile with hopes that this smile looks less like a snarl.
4
Sam
“Kori” translates to “Daddy.” I’m not gonna call him Daddy. He’s joking, trying to make me feel more comfortable in my fucked-up situation. I’m not gonna interpret his jokes as sincere. I’m no dumbass. He’s got ulterior motives, and I’m forced to go along with them because I’ve got nothing else to go by. The other male isn’t interested in helping me at all. At least this one makes me feel more in control of my situation. He gave me back my gun.
He’s almost out in the open. Light hits his body, and as his knees bend when he crawls, I stare up his kilt and between his legs. Banana. Banana.
“Try not to drool over my dick, little one.”
Oh my God, he’s spreading wide on purpose. I’m not a stranger to man talk. I can play this game. “Conceited much?”
“Too much. Wanna know why?”
“No, thanks.”
“But you will.”
“Doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
“Shut up and crawl,” I say.
He laughs, a rough musical masculine sound. My entire body buzzes with unfamiliar sensuality. Butterflies flutter in my belly, and I clench my fists. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
A clawed green hand grabs mine and pulls me the rest of the way. I emerge from the cave and shield my eyes from the bright landscape. Wiping the stray tears away, I try to take in my surroundings. I can’t because a giant male stands there, blocking my view.
“We’ll see which one of us is gonna shut up and crawl.” He winks, then falls to his knees before me.
I stand there thinking about the perfect way I could lift my leg, put it on his shoulder, and press my pussy against his lips. I think he might know what kind of crap I’m thinking, because he licks his lips. This shows me his tongue. It’s black and forked and pierced with tiny studs at the tips of the forks. I find all of him attractive. I’ve always been kinky, into experimenting with just about anything, but this is freaky even for me.
Vemlox ties my boot. “There,” he says and stands. “Don’t want you tripping and falling on me.”
I shake my head. Insufferable.
Vemlox kicks the snow accumulated at the entrance. It falls in an avalanche, and I approach the edge. The winds whip mercilessly, chilling my very bones, but the fog has cleared away, revealing the landscape. It is breathtaking. Tall red mushroomlike trees sway over the endless white landscape. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Vemlox stares at the descending sun and the shadows of what appear to be twin moons painted on the tapestry of the lilac sky. “What kind of a soldier are you?” he asks, gaze on the horizon.
“A police officer.” Inexperienced, straight out of the academy, but I keep that to myself.
Vemlox shakes his head. “The translator isn’t working.”
“A person who investigates crimes and brings criminals to justice.”
“You are Horde?”
My inner feminist takes offense at his surprised tone. “I don’t know what Horde is or does, but a woman cop is a cop nonetheless.”
“A soldier?” he asks.
Hm. I don’t believe he’s questioning my skills. He’s genuinely trying to understand our differences. “Sort of.”
“I am Horde.” He juts his jaw, finally looking at me. I half expect him to thump his chest. “You should fear me.”
I smile. “I do.” But not for the reasons he’s thinking. I’ve never met a man who made me this aroused in my life. I never thought I’d meet one. Every, and I mean every, man I’ve ever been with, I’ve topped in the bedroom and ordered around outside it. This tired me out, and I quit dating. Vemlox looks like a man who takes care of business. It’s attractive.
A noise startles me, and I turn, gun out and pointed under the ship. Something is crawling toward us. It’s not the gray guy; he doesn’t make a nois
e like this. It’s some sort of an animal.
Vemlox laughs.
“What the hell is so funny?” My hands shake from the cold. I need freakin’ gloves or my fingers are gonna fall off. I keep my gun pointed, though I’m relieved Vemlox doesn’t feel threatened. What emerges from under the ship makes me gape. It’s a mini wingless dragon with sharp black scales, long tongue hanging to the side and over his razor-sharp teeth. He’s the size of a horse but as bulky as a bull. I back away from the dragon-dog and stand next to Vemlox, who’s got his arms crossed over his chest.
“Nap well?” he asks the creature.
It whines, eyes on me, nose up and sniffing. The tail wags, and Vemlox lowers my arm. “Save those bullets. This is my hound, Loyo. He won’t hurt you. He’ll carry you up the mountain.”
“I am not riding that thing,” I blurt.
Vemlox pets the animal, whose breathing I identify with dragon breathing sounds I’ve heard in fantasy movies. As he pets him, I hear another sound and tilt my head. This one is different from the animal’s, and it's like…like a rattlesnake's tail shaking. I believe it’s coming from Vemlox, who adjusts the hound’s saddle that I swear is made of someone’s or something’s skin. “We gotta go.”
“I’ll walk,” I say.
“Up the mountain?”
“That’s what you’re gonna do, right?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, I’ll do what you’re doing. I’m not riding that thing.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
As he approaches, I get in his way. “I hear a rattling sound. Is it you?”
Vemlox presses my cheek to his chest. I hear it. The rattle. As I stand on an alien planet in the freezing cold, my fingers numb, my toes unfeeling, my lips chapped and dry, I feel like everything is right in this world and nothing can touch me.
Alpha Knots: Alpha Horde, #3 Page 2
