Pain cramps my womb, and I double over.
Over the years, the shortage of omegas has led to alphas exploiting them, taking them at will. As he no doubt intends to overpower me now.
I will not let him do that. I straighten in time to see the General stalk toward me. His masculine presence tugs at my nerves, pushes down on my skin, sinks into my blood and makes my head spin.
Heat sweeps over my skin and heads to my lower belly. My core weeps.
All my life I have tried to hide what I am. An omega. The receiver, the nurturer whose insides are starved of an alpha’s touch, who has been deprived of the sensory stimulation that only comes from an alpha’s rut. Now, his scent, that concentrated testosterone, sinks into my blood, forcing a reaction.
My womb cramps, and a fresh burst of slick gushes down between my legs to wet my pants. I don’t dare look down, don’t dare acknowledge the liquid pooling under me.
I should be mortified, ashamed at my public display of what I am… an omega meant to be mated and bred, who cannot physically hold back her reaction, not in the presence of this prime male specimen, and yet the survivor in me says I need to fight. Fight! My shoulders shudder, and I straighten my spine.
The General growls.
It’s a long, drawn-out purr that seems to emerge from the very depths of his masculine body.
The hair on my neck stands on end.
Liquid need radiates out from my womb, bleeds through my skin, and flares up in the surrounding air.
The General slams his fist to his chest, "Leave us." He roars. The aggression comes off him in waves, surrounding me, cocooning me as if he's trying to shield me from the sight of his own men. My knees threaten to give out from under me.
Around me I hear murmurs, footsteps sound, then fade away.
The doorway to the warehouse slams shut.
"You scared?" His voice murmurs through the space.
I shiver, I don't speak, I don’t need to speak. The scent of my fear is so strong I am sure he can smell it. "What do you think?" I intended to snarl at him, but the words come out a groan. I try to stagger away from him, trying to put space between me and that lethal, coiled, powerful male, only for my feet to tangle in the carpet. I go sprawling on my back and stay there.
"Get up." He snarls.
I blink, then slap my palms onto the carpet for leverage and stagger back to standing. Thrusting my chin forward I meet his gaze. Those startling blue eyes burn into me. Concentric circles of aquamarine, teal and a wild blue, draw me in, and make me want to lose myself in them.
"Kayden sent you to kill me."
It's not a question, but a statement. And not one that demands a response.
My chin quivers and I ball my fists at my side.
His jaw firms. "I should kill you right here, Omega, for daring to burst into my stronghold and trying to assassinate me."
"But you won't." Yeah, that would be too merciful of him. He's a monster and I don't expect any pity from him. But every alpha has an ego. And this predator has more ego than anyone else I have met. Perhaps it's that I need to appeal to. The thoughts skitter through my head, and I force my brain cells to knit the words together in a coherent sequence.
He tilts his head. "Feisty, aren't you?" His voice is soft, almost casual.
My stomach churns. Whatever he has in mind for me, it's not good.
"You bet," I set my jaw.
His gaze narrows.
My stomach twists and not just with arousal. My heart hammers and a bead of sweat trickles down my spine.
"You are a big powerful alpha; me, I am just a helpless omega." I flutter my eyelashes and fuck, I am overdoing this, but what the hell, I keep going. "Why don't we make this more exciting for you?"
He cants his head.
What do you know? He bought it. A flicker of hope sparks in my chest.
Then, his lips widen in a smile, and it's so predatory that I almost lose my will to resist, almost. I straighten my spine.
"I agree."
"Huh?" I blink. Why am I having this conversation with him? Just delaying the inevitable, that's all, but what the hell, I have to try, have to.
His nostrils flare, "Run. You have until I count to ten to get a head start."
"What do you mean?" I swallow.
"You are losing precious seconds."
No, it can’t be. This is not exactly what I had in mind when I had suggested to make things more exciting. Not.
"Nine."
The alpha is toying with me? He's going to hunt me? My palms begin to sweat. It can mean only one thing. He wants to increase the anticipation of whatever is to come. There is only one ultimate conclusion to this game,and it's not going to be in my favor. I close my fist so tight that my nails slice into my skin. The scent of copper leaks into the air.
"On the other hand, perhaps you'd rather we conclude this farce right now?" His eyes gleam.
The bastard no doubt thinks that I don't have a chance of outrunning him. It's that which makes me square my shoulders and thrust out my chest. I will not submit, not so easily.
His gaze sweeps over my breasts, down to my core and he stares at the space between my legs. There's no mistaking the anticipation that laces his features.
It makes me want to scratch that look of satisfaction off his face, to deny that my insides tremble in response. More moisture gathers between my legs. What is wrong with me? I am here to kill him. Not to mate him. Not. To. Mate. Him.
I turn and race to the exit of the warehouse and throw myself against the doors.
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"★★★★★Primal, sexy and so very satisfying! Sizzles from page one with toe curling and tummy tingling heat!" -InD'tale Magazine, Crowned Star of Excellence
Read an excerpt...
Hope
Twenty-four hours into her break from being a sentinel of the dragons of Mauritania, Hope had walked into that bar.
She wasn't supposed to be in Bombay.
The dragons had flown under the radar for so long. They'd kept away from people until they had all but faded from memory.
She was taking a major risk by being in that city, but she hadn't been able to resist.
The city had always called to her, and for once, Hope couldn't soothe her dragon out of the urge to visit.
A few weeks more, and she would be bonded to a fellow dragon shifter. She was looking forward to it.
Liar.
Sweat trickled down her spine. The scents of the shifters, vampires, and humans in the bar, entwined with the smell of her desperation.
She tightened her fingers around the glass. It shattered, the liquid splashing onto the bar counter.
As one of the seven born to the dragon who’d founded her clan, it was her duty to mate with another dragon and continue her bloodline.
No other species could survive the psychic impact of bonding with a dragon shifter. She was screwed.
Likely, this was her last night of freedom, and she had to make the most of it.
When she was out flying through the air or winging through the seas on her boat, she could be herself. She felt free to do what she wanted, without fear of letting down her family.
It was also the reason she kept breaking the rules of her clan.
It was childish of her, but these occasional bouts of rebellion were what kept her dragon sated. Enough to allow the woman to stay in control in human form.
"Non-alcoholic ambrosia, please." She peered up at the bartender from beneath lowered eyelashes.
The man's eyebrows flew so high they disappeared under the hair that fell over his forehead. "Let me guess. You're a dragon shifter, the only species who don't like alcohol."
A jolt of fear ran through Hope. The heat of the enclosed space inside Alex's bar weighed down on her shoulders.
Had she been found out?
Then she saw the teasing glint in his eyes.
She relaxed and raised her fingers to her mouth, pretending to yawn. "Do I look like a dragon shifter?"
The bartender looked over her features, down her chest, to her waist, then back. "Hmm. You're curvy and tiny and too sexy to be one."
She recognized his harmless flirting and decided to play along. "What does a dragon shifter look like, anyway?"
"Large, fire-breathing, with wings." He flapped a palm in the air. "Never seen one. They're almost extinct, right?"
"Right." She flashed a smile.
Had the satisfaction of seeing him blink.
Oh, he was interested all right, and cute and friendly. Only… she wasn't looking for any complications.
"By the way, it's not like dragon shifters don't like the occasional alcoholic drink. But when you’re a fire-breather, alcohol tends to add fuel to the flames. Know what I mean?"
Hope clamped her lips shut. Hell! She shouldn't have said that. But her dragon had insisted she set the facts right.
Dragon 1. Woman 0.
Stupid game! But it was so much more fun to keep her dragon and woman in balance this way.
Her animal was too damn close to the surface. She never had managed to rein it in. Very early, Hope had realized that unlike the others, her dragon took a lot more to control.
The bartender didn't seem to hear her muttered comment. He was too busy shaking up a concoction.
A crash from the other end of the bar had her turning that way. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Both dragon and woman were riveted.
The clinking of the glasses, the conversation of the couple next to her… all of it faded. All she saw was him.
The man who had her attention rose to his feet, only to stumble.
She didn't even realize she was moving until she found herself next to him.
The feel of the rock-hard muscles of his shoulder bunching under her fingers sent a thrill of awareness rippling through her.
She was in so much trouble.
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