“How are you feeling?” I ask, surprised she hasn’t whined about her wound at all.
“Like shit.”
There is shit once more! Unbelievable. The waste has so many uses in the language, I’m hardly able to keep up. The variety of that one word amazes me.
I reach for the sack and open it to pull out some clothes, but she hops off the alcove and stops at the place where I tended to her last night. She picks up the salvageable items, namely her boots, and holds them up. “My boots made it, huh?”
Weird. “Ah-ha?”
The Omega gets dressed and looks around, scratching her head. “I do need to pee.”
I toss her the sack with the soft papers and disappear outside to see about the landscape this morning. Snow covers the majority of red-tops, and the winds are low and weak, which will make our journey harder. I rely on the winds at my back to propel us forward. Though it’s a great thing we awoke as Sycol rose from the horizon. Armor up—because damn, it’s cold—I pat Loyo’s scales. “You ready?”
He whines, and I pat his head. Loyo takes off, getting a head start, scouting before we move out. We’re entering nesser territory, and they don’t like intruders. They might let Loyo pass on his way, and we’ll stay up high enough not to threaten them. The last thing I wanna do is put the Omega in more danger. I’ve already marked her, and even if the gash closes, I scarred her for life. Montar isn’t gonna like it, but she’s his Omega, and if he can’t see all the beautiful things I see, then he doesn’t deserve her.
I shake my head, wanting to pound my brain into the stone. I am not to judge whether he’s worthy of an Omega. I am to deliver her and secure his alliance. The Guardians of Nessetra are well trained for tough terrain, long spells of hunger, and isolation. Besides, their numbers are great, and when they join the Horde, we will have a chance at all-out conflict against the king’s armies. We presume the king will pull the armies from the fields, unify them in the capital, then march on Ohala.
“Seeing as you came prepared,” Sam says as she steps next to me, breath heating up the freezing air. “Did you bring coffee?”
My translator interprets that as “the morning brew.” “Teleans drink morning brew. The Horde is always prepared; therefore, we need no brew.”
She spares me a glance. “Is that a no?”
“No.” I tap my shoulder. “Hop on.”
“Where’s the hound?”
“He’s scouting. If you changed your mind, know that you can’t ride him this high up.”
“So I missed my hound-riding opportunity?” She jumps on my back and secures herself to me by clasping her legs around my waist and gripping my shoulders, blunt nails trying to dig into my armor.
I give her my profile. “Ride an Alpha, baby.” I wink, bend at the knees, and leap for the tree. My claws pierce the thin, flexible tree top just as the top shakes off the snow and covers us. It’s gonna be a long span.
6
Sam
With a body made of steel or whatever body plates keep Vemlox warm and strong, he doesn’t tire or pause for a break. Pressed against his back, I feel his body flex, his muscles move, and the power he emits makes my pussy clench. While I don’t fight my body’s responses, I’m aware my reaction to this man is unnatural, and I should probably put more effort into trying to control my thoughts. He’s fighting the shallow winds, grunting as we fly like Tarzan and Jane between the trees. All I can think about is how I’m gonna ride him. He said it!
The dirty thoughts in my head keep me from thinking about the itchy wound on my side. Yesterday, too cold and scared, I hadn’t noticed his claws digging into my flesh as he tried to keep me from falling, but today I want to scratch the healing wound. Willing myself to think about sex rather than pry my hands off him and scratch my side is the way I choose to deal with it. I won’t fidget, and I make an effort to move my body with his so as not to tip him off-balance. Of course, I’m not looking behind me. I don’t need to see how far up we’ve gone, or rather how far down we can tumble and break our necks if Vemlox slips.
It’s midday, and I gotta pee.
I gotta pee so bad, I break out in a sweat. Holding off my bladder is impossible. Gently, I tap his shoulder, right before he bounces off the ground. We leap and fly, Vemlox ignoring the tap. He’s focused on what he’s doing, probably has a way to clear his mind the same way I’ve ignored the itch at my side. But I can’t ignore my urge to pee. There’s no stopping it.
“I have to pee,” I say.
“So pee.”
“Can we take a break? It’ll just take a few seconds.”
“Can’t do. This is nesser territory, and if you squat on the snow, they will interpret it as marking and hunt us down.”
“You’re joking.”
“Often, but not about this.”
Sure enough, Vemlox doesn’t stop, and I hold off for a while longer, my bladder filling even more. My lips are dry and chapped, my arms numb and tired, and when I realize I can’t hold it any longer, I grit my teeth.
“It’s okay, Omega,” he says. “Do what you must.”
A tear runs down my cheek. Before I came to Regha, I was sure I could do anything. In the Academy, friends were few and bullies were many. Not just men, but women too. The other three women I trained with would tie my shoelaces together and stuff toilet paper in my locker. Men who someday would watch my back said I got it easy because my dad was a detective. My mentor didn’t help. Instead of pushing me into physical exercises, he’d excuse me from having to “run with the boys,” saying some exercises aren’t meant for girls. Not to mention the awful time I spent behind the desk because fellow officers protested partnering with me. Some didn't want me around because I was black, some because I was a woman, some just followed the crowd. Very few people had my back, and I hung on to those who did.
Despite the pushback, I graduated and got out there in the field, if only for a short time. Though, strange planets and capable Alpha males crush the illusion of alphaness right out of me. But I’ll be damned if I’ll cause us to slip and fall so that this male has to climb back up again.
“Do it!” he shouts.
This time, I don’t hesitate. Latched on to him, I release, burying my face in the crook of his neck, feeling his shoulders working to get us to safety. My pants are soaked, and I know some urine seeped through the pants and wet this man. I’m mortified to no end and hope I can look him in the eye when we land.
* * *
Sycol no longer warms my back. Vemlox’s movements have become strained and slow. He grunts loudly as he climbs.
“How much longer?” I ask.
“Not much.”
This could mean a few minutes or a few hours. I glance up to see nothing but an endless pile of snow. But maybe I could tell if I glance down, at least to see where we came from. Careful not to tip him, I wait until his feet hit the ground, and before he starts another leap, I look back. Right behind us, something is moving over the snow. I can’t quite make it out, but when I do, I widen my eyes. “Oh shit, Vemlox. We’re being followed.”
“I know.” He jumps, and we’re struggling through the trees again. “Gotta keep off the ground. How many?”
“I think only one.”
“So at least two, then. They hunt in pairs or packs.”
“What is it?”
“A nesser. A native animal of Mount Ness. They feel it’s their territory, and we’re intruding.”
“They’re hunting.”
“Mm-hm. Alphas aren’t edible, though. Their teeth can’t pierce our armor.”
“Humans are edible,” I say.
“Likely yummy too.” He gives me his profile and a smile.
This is so not funny. “Give me a second so I can grab my gun.”
“Not a chance. I got this.”
“Just a precaution.”
“Stay put, Omega.”
“God, you’re bossy.”
“You like it.”
Vemlox’s boots hit the ground, and he pause
s longer than usual. I think he’s tired. I think he’s having a hard time. We’ve stopped twice briefly, and he’s climbed all day long. I feel permanently attached to him. If my muscles strain, I imagine his pain is excruciating. He says nothing, though.
“It’s okay if you’re tired,” I say.
He snarls and leaps, then lands inside a cave, and drops to his knees, struggling not to face-plant. We stay like that for what seems forever. I’m so cramped and frozen, I can’t move off him, and he isn’t moving. He’s breathing fine, producing loud and eerie sounds so I know he’s alive. Strong fingers peel my hands away, and he wiggles out of my hold, shakes off his sack, then takes out furs, but his eyes never leave the cave’s entrance. I believe we’ve made it. Instead of relief, I tense up as Vemlox takes out a long double-edged ax.
A yelp sounds, and I snap my head toward the light. Damn, I can’t see anything. I manage to crawl to the edge of the cave’s opening and look down. Oh no! I kneel, fumbling for my gun. My fingers can’t flex, my whole body aches, and I scream, annoyed with myself.
Loyo is fighting two furry red creatures with horns. They’re twice his size and stand on two feet. Blood spurts out of the snarling animals. Then a crazy thing happens. Vemlox slides down, shouting a battle cry that rings across the landscape, and throws himself into their fighting pit. The four fight, all snarls, grunts, and rattles. I clasp my hands over my ears and watch in horror as the man engages a wild animal just about his size.
His violence turns me on.
My pussy walls clench and relax as it grasps air, and I feel liquid spilling onto my already wet panties. Helpless, I look down at my clawless hands, my pale palms, the tops of my soft skin with no body plates to keep me strong or warm. I’m not fucking cut out for this.
I gotta go home.
Gun in my lap, I wait for signs that it’s over. I think about my trip here, I think about my dad, my mom, my cousins, my partner all looking for me, the way I’ve been looking for those two girls whose pictures I carry around and show everywhere I go. Kingsley and Cyan. I grew obsessed with finding them, hence I snooped around the frat house and ended up here.
I sniff. I’m crying, and that’s okay. I’m gonna have my breakdown and take it like a girl. I wipe my nose with a sleeve, then reach for my gun. I palm it firmly. A breath whooshes out of my mouth and clouds the air before me. I release the magazine and take out one bullet, then slip it into my pocket. In case the worst happens.
Braving a glance down, I see two figures. One is Vemlox, shaking snow from his body, the other Loyo, stumbling as he limps up ahead. Vemlox pushes the animal, and they make it up to the cave, where Loyo falls and closes his eyes. I stare at the hound, measuring his shallow breathing, then glance up at Vemlox, who stands there covered in blood, a grim expression on his face, hands on his hips.
I scoot over to Loyo and raise my hand to pet him.
“Don’t,” Vemlox says. “His scales will cut your flesh.”
I shrug off my pack and grab the furs, then stand and try to get as many as I can over the hound because the poor thing’s shivering, producing some of the saddest sounds I’ve ever heard. That’s how I find a deep gash near his neck. Blood’s gushing out of it. I press a fur blanket over it and look at Vemlox. His jaw’s tight, but he stands there unflinching.
When he moves, he not only walks away, but leaps off the edge.
In shock, I stare after him. Has he left us here? Jesus! The hound whines.
“It’s gonna be okay, boy. You are so brave.” He’s gonna die. I know this as I know how to shoot a target and not miss. I sob for him and for me, the weight of my problems and my circumstance coming down on me like yesterday’s avalanche.
Boots land near me, and Vemlox walks by. Loyo’s still alive but unconscious, his breathing somewhat steady. I can’t wrap my head around Vemlox’s response. If this was my dog, I’d be a mess. This isn’t my dog, but I’m still a mess. Vemlox strides deeper into the cave and sits at the stone edge of what appears to be a pit of some sort. He slaps a flank of meat on a stone table and begins carving.
“Vemlox?”
“Yes, Omega,” he says quietly.
“What are you doing?”
“Preparing food.”
I gape at him. What the fuck? His pet is dying, and he’s gonna have supper? Yesterday, I vaguely remember Vemlox tending to my wound closing the gash to where today, I feel only a dull pain. This is some miracle medicine. I should be in much more pain. I dig into my backpack and find a white case with a red smear on it. I think it’s the med kit. This kind of shit is universal. Inside the case, I find things I’ve never seen before and examine the tubes and baggies, trying to figure out which to use on Loyo.
Vemlox snatches the kit from me.
I look up, thinking he’ll heal the hound, but he tosses the kit across the cave, shattering the case into pieces. Medicine scatters across the ground. He snarls. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“What do you mean?” I scoot back a little. Blood-soaked, emerald green, bald, rattling, and with a set of sharp teeth, he’s frightening.
Black eyes bore into me then he's off to pick up what he threw. “The kit is nearly depleted," he says, holding items and putting them into the sac. "There is only one creature here who will use it. That will be the Omega I need to deliver.”
“But your pet is hurt. You can help him. I know you can. Fuck, you can do anything!”
Vemlox rears back as if he doesn’t understand me. “He got hurt protecting you.”
“I know. It’s terrible. Please help him.”
“I am helping. I will feed him.”
“The wound is deep, Vemlox. He can’t possibly eat now. We need to close the wound.”
“Can’t do. The seal kit is for you.”
I make a note to search for the seal kit and stand. “How long have you had this animal?”
“Ever since I joined the Horde.”
There’s that damn Horde again. It’s some sort of unit, possibly military, definitely special forces. This is a trained man and his trained animal. “You must love Loyo.”
Vemlox widens his eyes. “Do not.”
“Yes, yes, you do. You’d never admit it, and that’s okay. Guys like you never admit to love or affection. My dad is the same way. It doesn’t mean he has no feelings, and my dad loves his dogs.”
Vemlox smirks. “I’m liking the Daddy thing, Omega. Call me Daddy, and I might even stroke your wet pussy.”
I push past him and walk to the sac. Finding something that looks like a gun, I grab it and walk back.
Vemlox stands in my way, covering my hand. “Hounds are many. We capture them, then train them.”
“So?”
“So I will get another hound. But I only have one Omega, and one chance to deliver her.”
“Well, Omega here is fine,” I tell him. “The hound is whining, so he’s in pain.”
“Loyo!” Vemlox shouts. “Quit whining like a pussy.”
The hound makes little noises, then nothing, just his naturally loud breathing.
“There,” Vemlox says. “He’s not whining anymore.”
“You’re cruel!”
“I am Horde!”
I round him, but he stops me with a hand on my chest. “He’s in pain, so he whines. I swear by the Great Serpent that he’ll heal on his own.”
The hound limps to the middle of the entrance, then lies there, still determined to guard us.
“I don’t have the heart to watch him suffer. Are there pain meds? I won’t use all the—”
“No.”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “K-9s. We have them. We love them. They’re our partners.”
Vemlox narrows his eyes. “In the Horde, things are simpler. Feelings take a back seat and never interfere with our mission. Loyo and I were sent to deliver an Omega, so that’s what we’ll do. Do not force me to punish you.”
I try to skip around him but run back into his chest.
“So be it.” He flip
s me on my belly, binds my wrists, and when I open my mouth to argue, he shoves a cloth inside, effectively gagging me. Then he picks me up like a sack of potatoes and carries me off, caveman style, and puts me near a small pool. Heat rises from the pool, and damn him, it’s a bath with hot water.
Pissed, I glare and mumble curses.
7
Vemlox
“Loyo will live.” I pet the snarly Omega on her head. “It’s not his first time having my back, and if I went there to coddle him like a newborn, he’d nip my armor.” I chuckle.
The Omega isn’t convinced. Eyes narrowed, she yaps and yaps. Thankfully, I’ve gagged her, or else I might accidentally fuck the disobedience out of her. I lower her to sit by the pond, then crouch beside her, grab her foot, and begin removing her boots. She kicks out, hitting my abdominals, then whines in pain. And now I will have to carry a crippled Omega. I sigh and continue, “Loyo is an old and proud Alpha in his own right, happy to die for me in service to the Horde. You are an alien whose ways are different from ours. You have no right to question the hound’s loyalty and guard duties.” I remove her boot and bare a foot with five toes. The toenails are painted pale white in stark contrast to her skin, and two middle toes have rings on them. I’m fond of jewelry.
Sam rolls her foot, checking her ankle, probably for damage from hitting my armor. “According to the other human Omegas, my armor is made of steel. Do you normally kick steel?” She quiets. The mention of other humans would do that. “I don’t exactly know what steel is, but I presume it is something hard. I would not hit hard things.” I smirk because I’m a dirty bastard. “Any hard things.”
The Omega watches Loyo, who is about to go into his healing trance state, akin to a nesser’s summer hibernation. My hound can’t guard me in that state, which is why I’ll stay up all night, but he understands he’s important to this mission, and he knows I will keep watch over the Omega. He doesn’t speak, but his sense of smell is excellent, even better than mine, and he smells my responses to the female. I’ve communicated our duty to him, which is to protect the Omega.
Alpha Knots: Alpha Horde, #3 Page 4
