Feral: Torment: FERAL BOOK THREE

by Nora Ash

  “Lillian,” he murmured. “Look… at me.”

  She lifted her head, and despite her dazed look from his consistent purr, tears dripped down her cheeks. He wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

  “I…. will…. protect. Always,” he said, ensuring she understood his absolute conviction in every word. “Don’t cry. Don’t… fear. Just me here. Just us.”

  “Just us,” she whispered, swallowing thickly. There was still hesitation in her gaze, but the panic in their bond was easing.

  He held her against him, petting her hair and her back as he did his best to ignore the painful throbbing in his cock at her increasingly mouthwatering scent, until finally she began to fidget. Her body was hot and slick with sweat, and soon her annoyance flared in their bond again.

  “God, I’m so fucking hot!” she hissed, squirming out of his grasp. “I know they call it ‘heat,’ but this is ridiculous.”

  Zach reached for her top, wanting to ease her suffering, but she smacked his hand away. Shooting him a dirty glare, she turned back around to stare at the misshapen nest. “And this is all wrong!”

  “Again,” he said, even though he was more than happy to mount her on top of the mismatched pile of curtains and sofa cushions. But she needed this—he knew that with every throb of the bond in his chest.

  Lillian huffed, a frustrated little sound, and attacked the bed again. Every scrap of fabric landed on the floor and she began anew, starting with the blankets that smelled like him.

  * * *

  It took three more tries before his mate was content with the nest of blankets she’d built for them, and by that point, Zach’s resolve to allow her the time she needed was crumbling. His skin was too hot and too tight, his cock ached for relief with a deep, throbbing pain that went all the way into the marrow of his spine, and every breath perfumed with her scent was torture worse than any he’d experienced at the hands of the doctors.

  He paced back and forth behind her, rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands to ease just some of the tension pulling at him like a howling hurricane. He’d long-since abandoned his clothes, and his swollen cock bobbed with every step he took, precum leaking from the bloated tip in a steady stream.

  His head throbbed in sympathy with his aching dick, a red haze of need clouding his vision, vivid fantasies of rough-fucking the damned female who was making him wait flickering before his mind’s eye. But still he held on, clinging to the singular strand of sanity that remained in his hazy mind.

  She needed him to wait.

  “Alpha.”

  The soft sound of her voice, like a hot breath brushing against his eardrum, made him snap his head toward her.

  His mate stood by the side of the bed, clothes soaked through with sweat and eyes wide and unfocused as she took in all his naked glory. Her gaze darted down his strong body, her pink tongue peeking out to wet her lips when she reached his crotch.

  And the last vestige of his self-control snapped.

  She shrieked when he threw himself at her, clawed at him as he shredded her clothes, but the bite of her nails only fueled his need.

  He tossed her on her back in the nest she’d built, growling low in his throat, reminding her of his dominance.

  “I need…” she croaked, crawling to the edge of the bed, reaching for him. “I need you!”

  He pushed her back down again, following this time. She swiped at him, clawing bloody streaks into his chest until he forced her onto her stomach.

  Snarling, fighting him for dominance, she tried to resist, but he pinned her neck to the mattress as he climbed between her thighs. She needed him to prove his strength, prove that he would be a worthy father of their offspring—and he was going to do just that.

  His mate kicked, but he pushed her legs wide with his knees, forcing her to show her flushed and pouty pussy to him.

  The scent of her slick hit him fully in the face, and he groaned, his cock weeping. He wanted to bury his mouth there, lick every drop of her desperation from that beautiful little snatch, but he didn’t have enough strength left.

  Lillian snarled like a wild animal when he forced her up on her knees, trying to twist around to bite and claw at him, but he kept her in place, head down and ass up. Ready to take her alpha.

  Wet heat met met his cock as he pressed it up against her opening, shooting electric jolts up his spine. Lillian froze beneath him, her angry snarl dying to a series of needy whimpers. On instinct, she widened her knees and pushed her ass up, submitting her swollen sex to him.

  Zach pushed through her tight opening with a hoarse cry, the pleasure of her slick walls so intense it bordered on pain. That first push inside of her was always overwhelming, all his focus centering in their carnal connection the moment she surrounded him, but this—this was something more.

  She didn’t cry out in pain when he penetrated her anymore; their many matings in the months they’d been together teaching her body how to open for him properly. But now, in the throes of her heat, her every nerve ending was overcharged with sensation, and they both howled when he bottomed out deep in her cunt.

  Her inner muscles clamped down on him and she jerked against his hold on her neck. Zach kept her down, gritting his teeth through the initial full-body shudders of bliss.

  And then, finally, he fucked her.

  His mate screamed as he pounded his cock into her trembling cunt, the squelches and fast slaps of skin against skin constantly vying for dominance over her high-pitched yelps and squeals. Everything was wet, tight heat and pleasure so intense he couldn’t stand it, but nothing in this world was powerful enough to make him stop fucking her. It was agony and it was ecstasy, and when her pussy erupted in a series of hard, fluttering contractions around his cock, Zach thought he was going to black out from the pressure.

  His vision tunneled and he roared and kept pounding her cunt until his cock swelled hard and fast, stretching her opening wide.

  White-hot relief blazed through his pain as he pushed his knot through her pelvis, locking it in place. The first spurt of his seed shot deep inside of her, the tip of his cock nestled right up against her cervix.

  He collapsed on top of her, groaning incoherently as he bathed her womb in semen, ecstasy shuddering through him in rhythmic cramps. Underneath him, his mate whimpered and panted, rocking with him while she rode her orgasm out on his dick.

  They lay like that for a few long, blissful moments before Lillian grew restless again.

  Zach was used to her accepting multiple matings, but rarely did she ask for more after her first knotting. This time, however, she began twisting underneath him within minutes, hips jumping impatiently. When her pelvic bone caught on his still-swollen knot, she growled at him, her temper rising as her heat reignited.

  He ground her G-spot with his knot, riding it hard despite her yelps of pain when his thick knot pulled too far. When his knot finally deflated enough for him to thrust, he fucked her again, longer this time, giving her exactly what her body craved.

  Again and again he rutted his howling mate. The only respite she got was when he brought her water so she wouldn’t dehydrate. Even then she fought him, wanting his cock and dominance more than she wanted to slake her thirst.

  But his job wasn’t to give her what she wanted. It was to ensure she got exactly what she needed.

  Through the four days it took before her heat broke, she drank as much water as he demanded, even slept a few hours on the second day when he coaxed her to rest with his cock still buried deep inside her. And every single time he knotted her, she was on all fours, ass up and face down—submitting to her alpha exactly like she was meant to.

  * * *

  He felt it in every cell of her being when his mate, sometime after noon on day four, slid down flat on the mattress underneath him with an exhausted groan. Her heat was finally sated—and so was her temper. There was no more fight left in her body, no more fire burning in their bond.

  Complete and utter calm hummed through
him from her scent, from their bond, from the feeling of her soft curves underneath him, and from the relaxed grip of her pussy around his aching cock.

  His every muscle hurt from the prolonged mating, but it was a pleasurable ache. Pride at having cared for his mate so thoroughly swelled in his chest, and he nuzzled at her nape where his claim was branded into her skin for eternity.

  She made a soft little noise in response, and he gave her nape a few licks before turning them both over to their sides.

  “I love you, Zach,” she whispered, and though he couldn’t see her face, he heard the deep emotion in her voice. “More than I ever thought I could love someone.”

  She’d told him before—often when they would lay like this, his knot still hard inside her.

  “I love… you, Lillian,” he murmured, pulling her tighter to his body, needing to feel as much of her as possible despite having just spent days with her in bed. “Always.”

  They lay quietly, processing the experience of her first true heat in silence.

  At first, Zach simply enjoyed the sated lethargy, basking in the physical pleasure and the gentle hum of elation in their bond. But slowly, as his mind wandered, the implications of mating a female through a true heat set in.

  An alpha, like any beta, could get a woman with child without a heat, but the chances were so much higher during. He remembered the terror he’d felt at the thought of bringing a child into the world with her while they’d been captives in the lab, knowing the doctors would not hesitate to use an innocent life to twist him into the weapon they craved.

  But now… here, they were free. And he wanted… with a yearning he hadn’t known he was capable of... his seed to take root. He wanted his mate to bear their first child, here, in the sanctuary they and their friends had carved out deep in the Canadian woods. It would be safe here. Cherished. Protected.

  Always.

  Gently, he slid a hand down her body, curving his palm around the lower part of her stomach. He would never forget the cost of this beautiful life he’d been granted. He would never stop being grateful.

  Lillian’s hand came to rest on top of his, her soft touch soothing.

  “Jerry,” he said, stroking his thumb over the small swell of her abdomen.

  “Jerry,” she agreed.

  Arlington County, Virginia

  Prototype AX1

  Arlington County, Virginia

  * * *

  Bright light seared his eyes. There was nothing but empty whiteness—not a tunnel, like they said. Just bright, fluorescent nothingness.

  “You’re awake.” The voice came from his side, clear as day. Clearer than any voice he’d heard before, and so close the speaker must have been within reach.

  He jerked, trying to reach for them, but his arms wouldn’t move. Frowning, he tried again, but still nothing. It didn’t feel as if he’d been restrained—his muscles simply didn’t respond.

  Growling, he tried to open his mouth to demand an explanation, but he couldn’t unclench his jaw to speak.

  “Be calm,” the voice said, and this time a face appeared above him, outlined in the light like an angel descending.

  But this was not heaven—that was the only thing he was sure of.

  “Voice activation engaged,” the speaker said. “You can talk now.”

  “Where am I? What is this? Why can’t I move?” Words flowed from his lips in one long string, tumbling out as if they’d been pressed against a gate that’d suddenly been yanked open.

  “You are at the Pentagon. This is a testing facility.” The light suddenly dimmed and the face above him turned into a dark-haired woman’s. She wore glasses, and what he could see of her shoulders and chest was covered in a white lab coat. “And you cannot move your limbs because I have not authorized it.”

  “What?” He yanked on his arms again, tried to kick his legs free, but again, nothing happened. “What have you done to me?!”

  “Tell me what you remember from before you woke up here.”

  “I…” He tried to recall where he’d been before he woke up, but no memory returned.

  “What is your name?”

  “I am…” His voice died when no word came to his lips. “I don’t…” Had he ever had a name?

  “Remote control engaged. Sit up, AX1.”

  Without his permission, his body moved, muscles engaging, contracting as he sat up. There was a mirror on the wall opposite where he’d been laying. It took him a moment to realize it was in fact a mirror, because he didn’t recognize the person looking back at him.

  If it was a person.

  The thing in the mirror had dark skin and the face and general appearance of a man. But where flesh should have covered the right side of his body, metal gleamed. The transition between flesh and chrome was seamless, giving the appearance of a being that was neither human nor machine, but something in between.

  The woman smiled, though it held no warmth. “All you need to know, AX1, is that you were on the brink of death, and we brought you back. We have spent millions of dollars and countless man hours ensuring you could walk again, talk again. We made you stronger than you were, faster... better in every way. And all we ask in return is that you serve your country as the soldier you were made to be.”

  More Omegaverse

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  * * *

  * * *

  I never thought being saved from pain, degradation and death could come at such a twisted price.

  He is nightmares made flesh, the living embodiment of everything I fear. Yet in my darkest hour, he is the one who comes for me.

  If he demands my submission in return, how can I deny him?

  * * *

  Taken is the first book in Nora Ash’s dirty, suspense-filled Omegaverse serial. Want your alphas dominating and your romance scorching? This is the story for you.

  ALPHA: TAKEN

  TEASER

  It usually takes a lot to shake me while I’m on the clock, but these political gatherings are tough to get through for most single women. I am no exception.

  I grit my teeth and pretend like my system isn’t being bombarded with alpha pheromones. As I glance to the side I can tell I’m not the only one in the throng of reporters who is on edge from all the airborn aggression—a couple of the other female journalists are fidgeting, and a burly man holding a video camera on his shoulders is flexing his free hand. Probably an alpha himself, judging by the size of him. But he’s been through this before, as have we all, and we’re all pretending like we’re not noticing the testosterone rolling off the mayoral candidates in thick waves.

  I clench my pen tighter and squirm in my chair from discomfort at the latent aggression as I take in the five candidates. Every single one is so obviously alpha, which I think is just another sound reason to avoid any and all politicians. When your job is not to cover them for the most volatile election in recent memory, of course.

  “I’d like to offer you all my warmest welcome to this our third debate.” The current Lord Mayor smiles from his podium up front, in what I’m sure his PR team meant to be a jovial manner. Lord Mayor Bremen is a man is his sixties, with dark gray hair and sharp eyes, and he has ruled Mattenburg with an iron fist for eight years. If there is one thing he’s not, it’s jovial.

  “With only two weeks to election day, we have a busy schedule ahead of us, so let us get started with the evening’s topic of CO2 emissions and recreational planning.”

  I start to write notes on my trusty notepad, not bothering to look up while Bremen continues his introduction to the third subject the candidates have to discuss in a public forum before the elections.

  “To get us started, I am certain Mister Peter Leod will enlighten us on the Liberals’ viewpoints.”

  I look up, my pen pausing in time to see the Lord Mayor step backward and allow
for one of the other candidates to take the floor. It is well known that he and Leod have been butting heads since before the election campaigns started, and as far as I know, Bremen has never allowed him to open a debate.

  If Leod is as surprised by the gesture as I am—as the rest of the room appears to be—then he doesn’t show it. He is a very tall man, who hides his alpha physique as best he can underneath an immaculately pressed, white shirt and a blue suit. No doubt in order to appeal to the liberal citizens his party represents—the ones who don’t care for archaic roles and biologically dictated power structures. I probably would have voted for him myself, if it wasn’t because I’ve been exposed to the lies and corruption within our city council for a few years now, thanks to my job. There are no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy and definitely no trustworthy politician in this city.

  “Thank you, Lord Mayor.” Leod lets his eyes sweep over the cameras and gathered reporters, the air of confidence that has made him rise from a relative nobody to a serious contender within the span of two years vibrating from him like a near-tangible entity.

  I frown and stare at his defined features in the hopes of seeing even a glimmer of surprise or annoyance, but there is nothing but cool, calm self-assuredness. Maybe I’m just grasping at air, hoping to see something—anything—that will make a three-hour debate on CO2 even slightly interesting.

  I’ve barely had the thought when his sweeping gaze catches mine.

  A jolt shoots through my body, almost like someone’s sent an electric current through me. I blink, startled, and immediately proceed to drop my pen. I hurriedly close my knees and catch it in my skirt before it can clatter to the floor.

  What the hell was that?

  I clutch my pen tighter as I suppress the odd tingling sensation in my tailbone left behind by whatever the hell that electric jolt was.