Vemlox pats my head. “We have to get going.”
I’m not moving. I realize my hands have wrapped around his middle, and I have no idea how long we’ve been standing here. He even has to grab my shoulders and peel me off him. Oh boy. “All right, let’s go.”
Vemlox pats his shoulders. “Hop on, soldier.”
“On what?”
He gives me a wicked grin, and heat creeps up my cheeks. When he held me, I felt his arousal. I don’t know if he’s thinking what I’m thinking, so I fake indifference.
“My back,” he says with a wink.
If he’s not a dirty mofo, then I will eat dirt. I wave him off and walk around the area, looking up to check out the terrain. A giant white mountain. I don’t believe a human could climb this thing in these conditions. It’s suicide.
Vemlox joins me. “We’ll move quicker if I carry you.”
“I have legs.”
“Fine long legs,” he amends.
“Thank you.” I am flirting with my alien abductor.
Vemlox bends at the knees and jumps, clawing at the snow, then swings his powerful body up to stand on top of the cave’s entrance. It’s slippery. He slides, but just as I’m about to scream, he drops to his belly, black claws digging beneath the snow. He extends an arm, and I take it. Hauled up, I land on my ass next to him.
He grins at me. “You’ll try anything, won’t you?”
“At least once.”
He nods and looks to our right, pointing at the tree not four feet away. “We start from there.”
Beneath us, his hound whines.
“What about your hound?” I ask.
“He’ll follow.”
“Is he trained for this terrain?” I’m thinking the hound is an alien version of a K-9.
Vemlox looks at me like I’ve asked if the sky is blue when it’s really lilac on Regha. “Loyo is Horde.”
“Oh, okay. That explains everything.” I suppress an eye roll.
“Can you make it to that tree?”
“I can try.” I sit up, wet clothes sticking to my ass, stretch out my hands, put one foot in front of the other, then realize he’s not following me. I raise my eyebrow. “Can you make it?”
“Maybe.”
One step at a time, I walk on the edge, concentrating on the damn tree that I’m gonna hug the moment I make it there. The few feet to the tree feel like a mile, but I make it, hug the tree, and sigh, cheek pressed to its furry and slimy green trunk.
“Are you watching me?” Vemlox asks.
I nod.
Vemlox bends and jumps, his leap long, his face wild, teeth bared. In a second, he lands halfway up the tree, slides down, catches me by my waist, bends the trunk, picks me up, and leaps all the way to the top of the tree, then grabs the red mushroom top and releases the stem. We hang from the tree, and I’m not looking down. Under our weight, the top bends all the way to the ground. Vemlox lands, leaps, and uses the tree to propel us farther up. We fly—fly!—to the next tree, where he grabs the red top and does the same. I grip his middle and hang on for dear life, realizing there is no way I could do this on my own, and that I don’t have to. This male is capable, and I am so turned on and amazed at his skill, I want to know everything about him, and more importantly, I want him to teach me how to do this.
“Show-off!” I yell as we travel from tree to tree, flying. On the ground, the hound follows us. Slow but sure, this animal doesn’t slide or falter. It bulldozes through the snow.
“We gotta make it there,” Vemlox says. “And we gotta be fast about it.”
“Where there?”
Vemlox points somewhere only his eyes can see. “Before nightfall.”
“You scared of the dark?”
“Definitely.”
I stare into the distance and see no shelter. I’m embarrassed to admit I’m hanging on to him like a baby hangs on to his mother, and my muscles strain to do even that simple task. “Should I be scared?”
“Only if you’re sane.”
Am I sane? I haven’t yet processed what’s happened to me. It’s probably a good thing we’re in a rush. I don’t have time to think about what all transpired. Instead, I gotta concentrate on the muscle twitch in my left arm, on hanging on to Vemlox so I don’t end up riding an animal that scares the bejesus out of me. I glance below and see a speck of black fighting the snow. He’d throw me off the saddle. I’m not an experienced rider, having ridden a horse only once at a petting zoo. Oh, and a camel, also once, during our vacation in Palm Springs, neither of which prepared me for riding a Regha hound.
A cramp tightens my right bicep.
I lose my grip, tipping Vemlox off-balance. He snarls, misses the tree top, and we fall. I’m screaming, eyes closed when we hit the snow and slide, then stop abruptly. I choke on my fear and slip down his body. He shouts my name. I snap open my eyes and, at the last second, grip his boot.
We’re hanging off a cliff. I know we are, but I keep my eyes on Vemlox’s fierce face. He’s not scared, not even a little bit. There’s something in his eyes as he looks down at me. It’s confidence. Very few people have such inner confidence, but I know it when I see it. Vemlox is holding on to a tree that’s bent over the cliff, muscles straining, visibly shaking.
I gotta get my shit together or die out here. “I’m gonna climb now,” I say. “Ready?”
“Born ready.”
I grip his calf and pull my weight, adrenaline pumping through my veins, making me stronger. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. His thigh is rock hard when I grip it, then hook my legs around his boot and pull myself up his body. I wrap my arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry.” I couldn’t hold on, and I tipped him off-balance, and we might die if he can’t hang on.
A palm strokes my face and presses my cheek to his chest where the rattle of his breathing soothes me while the wind gusts whip us, lifting us up. We fly. I do nothing but hang on. I clear my mind, listening to his loud breathing until I fall into some sort of daze where nothing exists but his cold hard body whose muscles shift under my tight grip.
5
Vemlox
Killing Montar’s Omega is high on my not-to-do list. With a final push, I leap inside a Horde cave, a safe house at the heart of Mount Ness. I land, and my legs give out, my muscles not carrying me anymore. We roll the rest of the way, then stop as my back hits the cave wall. I look up and around, praying no nessers are sheltering here and I’ve disrupted their nest.
Hands locked around my neck, legs wrapped about my waist, the Omega in my arms is quiet. I’m purring and kick up my purr with a happy drumbeat of my fingers on her thigh when I assure myself that we’re alone. Fuck, I’m beat. If there was an animal after us right now, the Omega soldier would have to shoot the fucker with her weapon filled with bullets. Thankfully, no Horde member is here to see me relying on an Omega for defense. I relax and hold the warm Omega against me for longer than necessary.
Kingsley’s Beta doctor filled me in on human female anatomy, namely body temperature and how we can tell if Omegas are sick. I know I should peel her off me and take her temperature, but I don’t. Her little heart beats slow and steady as I stroke the fur on her back, my fingertips sometimes touching her very fine bubble ass.
She doesn’t protest my touch, so I tap her ass, then peer at her face on my shoulder.
Holy balls, the Omega is sleeping. I laugh. I’m the purr master. If she can sleep through the mountain climb and not fear for her life, I’m all set for receiving my own Omega. Right after I complete this mission. Nothing will get in my way, let alone a little bit of wind and natural disasters like avalanches in my face. Pfft. I’ve certainly dealt with worse.
I tap the Omega’s ass. She’s not waking.
I spank her.
It is only then that I scent blood.
I stretch out my hands to see where it’s coming from. Blood drips from my claws. I turn us over so she’s under me, and the Omega finally wakes, a smile playing on h
er lips. “We made it.”
I yank off her fur and toss it away.
“Hey,” she protests weakly.
I turn her to her side and stare.
A seeping bloody gash runs from her hip all the way to her armpit. I damaged her. “Serpent’s fucking balls!”
“You don’t look happy,” she tells me.
Carefully, I slide her sack from her back, find the med scanner, and take her temperature. It’s way, and I mean way, below human normal. She’s half-frozen, which explains why she slept and felt no pain. I can only pray the gash will heal and Montar won’t give me shit for marking his Omega in such a savage way. “It was an accident,” I tell her. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Mean what?”
“You’re damaged.”
She scrubs her face, her fingers cramped. From the sack, I gather up sealing gels and heat pads and get to work on her. I strip her naked, pull her pants down, and seal the gash just as Loyo enters the cave. Sam’s not even alarmed, and I wish she would be. There’s an odd sound coming from her, and I bend my face close to hers to hear. It’s a soft breathing sound. I rear back. I think the Omega is sleeping again. What the fuck? I shake her by the shoulders, and she wakes up. Her eyes open but close quickly again. Fuck me.
I clean her up, then walk to the Horde’s storage and take out old blankets, furs, and soft shirts we keep here for the wounded. I find a nice alcove, throw all the crap in there, and drop the Omega inside. A smile on her face tells me it’s all good, and now I’m worried even more. Has the Omega lost her mind? Is her mind frozen in a happy state? I’m gonna kill the Beta doctor for not telling me how to care for an Omega’s mind!
She grips the feather pillow and snuggles it. I tuck the heating pads around her body, grab more furs, and bury her under these things. I am cold-blooded, so my body can’t keep her warm. The only thing I can do for her is purr. Feeling helpless isn’t something I’m used to. Holy knot, the Omega might die on me.
I whistle for Loyo, and he drags his tired old ass to come sit next to me. From his saddle, I get dried meat, bite it, and chew. Human Omegas are fucking picky eaters, so I eat by myself, thinking of how I’m gonna get her to eat what I’ve packed when she wakes up. I purr for her until I’m sure she’s deep asleep, that soft sound coming from her. An Omega’s snore. Not as loud as a Regha Alpha snore, but it’s a snore.
I collapse, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow, we’ll climb some more. “Don’t fucking die on me, Sam.”
* * *
Sycol lights up the cave, its warmth welcome on my sore muscles. I stretch and glance at the Omega’s alcove, taking a minute to appreciate the nest I made. I’ve never made one before, and if any of my Horde brothers-in-arms ever hear I’ve nested, there will be no end to the ridicule. Better not mention this tidbit.
Still, it’s a great nest. Loyo thinks so too, seeing as he’s somehow managed to fit his big ass inside the alcove and has lain down on top of the furs. Groaning, I get up. “Aww, are you comfortable enough?” Spoiled hound. “Would you like some tea?”
He knows I’m talking to him, but he’s faking sleep. Unbelievable. I slap his big ass. “Get your ass down and guard the entrance.” Loyo gives me an evil eye and, with a grunt, jumps off the nest and strolls to the entrance. “At leisure.” My hound is pretty old, the oldest mofo in the Horde hound pack, but also the smartest. Maybe I’ll retire him after Loven becomes king. If I don’t die in the process. Which reminds me why I’ve come here.
The Omega is bundled up, only her hair and half her face showing. She’s pretty, this one, but I’m not a good judge of female beauty—they’re all pretty, each one special in her own way. This one is not just pretty, though. She’s a fighter too. Montar better appreciate this rare Omega.
“Hey,” I say.
Since the alcove is raised, when the Omega snaps open her eyes, we’re face-to-face. I lean my hand on the edge and purse my lips, “Wakey wakey, little Omega. Time to eat and go.”
She’s blinking at first, then smiles. “What time is it?”
“Early start today.”
“I’d rather sleep.”
“I know.” I’m sure she’d lie in the nest all day, but we got a lot of terrain to cover. We have to climb higher and make it to another cave before nightfall.
Sam runs a hand down her face, and I hand her a jug of water. “For your teeth,” I say, nodding.
She takes the water and stares at it. “My teeth?”
“Brush teeth.”
A blank stare.
“Mix the water in your mouth, like this”—I make an effort to move air in my mouth—“then spit. Invisible organisms inside the water clean our teeth and bodies.”
She does as told and hands me back the water, then snuggles inside the nest again. “It’s so warm under these furs.”
I drum my fingers on the wall, getting a little impatient here. I can be real sweet or real stern. I think I’m gonna have to be tougher so she doesn’t misunderstand my kindness. “I’m not asking you to get up. I’m telling you to get up, get dressed, and move.”
She smiles wider and lifts the furs, then pats the floor. I believe this Omega is inviting me into her nest. I’m certain she has no idea what it means to invite an Alpha into a nest, but by the Serpent’s balls, I can spare time just to experience such a thing. Chuckling, I leap up and fit inside. It’s a bit cramped for both of us. Half my body is hanging off, gonna tip at any moment, but I don’t give a human shit.
Oh, the waste! She has not wasted. “Do you need to take a shit?”
Eyes wide, she says, “Oh my God. You did not just say that.”
“I did, and I came prepared with soft paper that wipes pussy and ass. It’s in your sack.”
The Omega smiles, then throws back her head and laughs. This fit of laughter goes on and on, and I see nothing comical about what I asked. I’m simply looking out for her bodily needs. Loven said they waste and waste, unlike anything he’s ever dreamed possible. Since they don’t have invisible organisms working quickly to clear the waste, I can’t imagine how Earth deals with all the dumping. But that’s a topic I will ask my own Omega one span. This one, unfortunately, isn’t mine.
Recovering from her laughing fit, the Omega places a gentle hand on my face. “You’re a really nice man.”
“Male. Alpha male.”
She licks her lips and stares at my mouth. “That too.”
I know what this Omega wants, what all Omegas want from Alphas. Affection and a good fuck with the magical Alpha dick that’s gonna stretch that little pussy wide and lock in place for seeding. Sam’s pupils dilate, and she scoots closer to me, arranging the furs over my body. “So you don’t get cold.”
I shouldn’t be in her nest in the first place, but I can’t help but wonder if she’ll choose me over Montar, especially if I proceed with what I’m about to do. There’s no rule that says I can’t use an Omega who’s wet for me. And I know she’s wet. If her dilated pupils aren’t telling me, the scent of the liquid spilling out of her pussy envelops the alcove. It’s all up in my nostrils, and ignoring it is impossible. And so I don’t torture myself. I place a hand over her hip and bring her body flush against mine.
She shivers. “Shit, you’re cold.”
“I find it hypocritical, humans refer to shit and yet chastise me when I do.”
“Hmm. How many other humans are there on this planet?”
“Two that I’m aware of.”
“Both women?”
“No. Both Omegas.”
A delicate finger traces my lips, and her pupils dilate more. I stroke her hip, then her ass. It’s firm, irresistible. I’ve never seen a body quite so firm and plump in all the right places. I squeeze her ass cheek. Sam’s eyes lock with mine for a brief second, then she closes them, dark curls falling over her eyes as she pecks my lips. I stay still. I believe she wants to explore our differences. I believe this Omega is unlike any other. Bold and fearless. Kingsley and Cyan aren’t this way.
&
nbsp; Something akin to pride swells in my chest, but I gotta shut it down before I get out of control. I don’t have the right to this Omega or even the right to feel pride about her resilience. She took things in stride, and she’s gonna make it all the way to the top of the mountain.
As I gently explore her body, she explores mine. My ears, nose, hair—she touches me everywhere except for my mouth. She likes to explore my lips with her lips, and I open, wondering if she’ll let me taste her tongue. She does. Not only does she let me, she sticks her blunt red tongue in my mouth and grabs the back of my head. What the fuck? I slap her ass. I don’t like this. It rubs against my instincts.
She snaps her eyes open, gasping. “Oh man, I’m sorry.” A shade of red colors her cheeks, and she rolls onto her back, covering her face. “I can’t control myself.” She peeks through her fingers. “I’m not sure why I… I apologize. Sincerely. I haven’t had coffee yet.”
“Like I said, you are an Omega, and your body’s response is natural. While I’m happy to oblige, taking the lead is my job, not yours. Don’t let it happen again.”
More heat spreads over her cheeks.
I hop off the alcove, dick hard and ready to fuck. I scrub my own face, grab her furs, and yank.
Under it, the Omega is nude.
She sits up but doesn’t cover her breasts. Instead, she looks down with a frown. I follow her gaze to the puddle her pussy made on the blankets under her.
“Fucking A,” she says.
Fucking the first letter of the human script. Unsure how to interpret this, I ask, “A?”
The Omega’s not listening. She’s busy fussing over the nest. I have seen a few Omegas’ nests, and I knew better than to make her one. She’s cursing while arranging, and then snatches a fur from my hand and covers the ground, patting the patch of wetness made by her pussy juice. I think it bothered her, the wetness. Nobody wants to lie on the wet spot, but, in general, Regha Omegas don’t mind. She should know it’s natural for her pussy to want to prepare for the Alpha dick.
Alpha Knots: Alpha Horde, #3 Page 3
