When Zetta scrutinized herself, running her hand up and down her sides, my gaze hardened. “I don’t care if you’re here to help me. Stop looking like my mom. Be…anybody but not her.”
“Better?” Zetta smirked.
I gawked at the man towering over me in black tailcoats and top hat. He stroked his beard with a sombre intensity. Then he suddenly grinned with an alarming brightness and twisted around as if trying to check out his own ass.
“I’m still fabulous, right?” He leered at me. “Tell me the truth now.”
“Abraham Lincoln is standing in my bedroom checking himself out,” I muttered, “maybe I have gone crazy.”
“Do you prefer this skin then?” Elvis now stood in classic finger pointing pose in a sequin-encrusted suit slashed to his navel, waggling his eyebrows, before thrusting his groin at me. When I shrieked (and son of a bitch, that had to be socks stuffed down there), he grinned. “I’ve still got it.”
Then Zetta twirled, reappearing in horned helmet and leather Loki at his so freaking hot when he plays dominant. He clasped his hands behind his back, curling his lip. “Kneeling would now be deemed appropriate.” Then he waved his hand. “Only kidding. Who gets off on forcing their enemy to become their slave in the twenty-first century?” He tapped his teeth as if in thought. “I know, Wolf Charmers.”
He threw off his helmet, and his black hair transformed back to red.
I scowled. “I said that I don’t want you to be—”
“Hmm, I’m wondering whether I care to the amount of nothing or to zero squared.” Zetta giggled. “It’s probably the same answer as your chances of surviving the week.”
I clenched my fists, stepping towards her. “You don’t have to be a jerk and threaten me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m here to protect you, but your true mum’s killer was never caught, and they’ll take one whiff of your scarlet yumminess and hunger to eat you all up.”
I shook. “I hope they do…whiff me…because I’ve had a decade to plan just how I’d kill the bastards who murdered my family.” My eyes blazed, and my shadows snapped around me in furious coils. “I’ll make them and their families suffer just like they have me.”
Zetta’s smile was long and luxurious. “You were hiding her from me, but now I see the Wolf Charmer that your aunt promised.” She leaned closer in a waft of honeysuckle. “Congratulations, your chances of not dying just went up. Oh, and you have a wolf locked in your wardrobe, remember?”
Holy hell, the Omega…
Panicked, I rushed to the wardrobe, turning the iron key with shaky hands, whilst Zetta sank into the wall like an iridescent puddle.
Open, open, open…
The key slipped between my sweating fingers, until finally the lock clicked, the door fell open, and the Omega tumbled out at my feet. If it hadn’t been for his quiet whining and the tremors running through him, as he curled around himself, I’d have thought that I’d killed him already, thus beating even my record with houseplants. His clammy face was even paler than before — bone white — whilst his moon curls clung to his neck. He panted, and his eyes were screwed shut. The once crisp white shirt and trousers that they’d sent him home with from the Training Center were about as creased as you’d expect from being huddled in a wardrobe on a nest of… I forced myself to peek into the dark at the crimson velvet and then shuddered.
I was flooded with the memory of hiding inside there myself on the night of my parents’ murders, whilst the growls of the wolves echoed outside and their claws clacked on the floorboards.
It filled me with all sorts of revenge happies that a werewolf had experienced at least some of the horror of that night. Now it was a wolf’s turn to be trapped in a witch’s house at his enemy’s mercy.
I smiled, until Okami nipped my inner thigh, and I clutched my pants like I’d just wet myself. Okami flew out with an angry growl and settled with surprising tenderness over the Omega’s forehead.
Okami had never comforted anyone but me before.
Yet I couldn’t work out if the resentment that washed through me was because Okami was snuggling the Omega or because the Omega was snuggling him back, rubbing his fingers desperately along his fur as if it was all that was anchoring him. Then the Omega’s golden eyes snapped open and focused on me and even in their distress, they were dangerous.
When I edged closer, the Omega bottom shuffled towards the bed, still clutching Okami like a wolf teddy bear in one hand, whilst he panted.
“I know I said that you’re the monster,” the Omega snarled, “but by my hide, the whole ironic hiding in a wardrobe statement was a bit much.”
I snorted. “Trash talk, I get it. Did they teach that in your how to be a perfect Omega lessons?” The Omega flinched. “I’m a Wolf Charmer, not a monster.”
The Omega stared down at the branded WCH on his hand. I’d expected to hate that but yet a possessive thrill coiled through me at my mark on him. “So, you’re Zetta and Daniel’s daughter…?”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m Crimson, and I don’t think you get to say their names.”
His lips curled into that slight smile of his, which made my belly squirm. “Is that an order, Charmer?”
“Nope, just a strong suggestion if you like your dick.”
“And do you like my dick?” The Omega pulled himself up onto the bed, sprawling across the covers and cushioning his head on his arms like the Lord of the Manor.
When he spread his legs, whilst blinking at me with pretend innocence, I bent over in a coughing fit. Why did I have to remember that his dick in that cell had been as beautiful as the rest of him? Stella had been right on the whole sinful and angelic package.
The Omega tutted. “No fair, you’re imagining it now, aren’t you? And it’s right here.” When he bucked his hips, I fought hard not to remember Zetta’s Elvis impression. I flushed; my skin was suddenly too hot and tight. “Why hold back, furless? After all, it’s why you Claimed it.”
He was my wolf, after all. Wasn’t that how the whole Wolf Charmer and her Charm thing worked?
I stepped closer, meeting his intense gaze. I craved to grab his curls and taste his plush lips, whilst I ran a hand down his quivering body to his…
Then the Omega shifted on the bed and glanced at the white fur pelt beneath him. He jerked away, before holding himself stiffly still. He pulled his knees together, before looking around and nodding his head grimly at the wolf gargoyles, as if in greeting. Okami sped to him, settling on his shoulder and nuzzling at his neck.
I blanched. Maybe the pelt had been one of the Omega’s relatives and the gargoyles had once been real wolves…? Yep, that would be a mood killer…if the Omega had ever been in the mood.
“Looks like I’ve landed myself in the House of Horrors,” the Omega muttered.
“The House of Silver, actually.” I perched on the bed next to him, leaving enough distance between our thighs that he didn’t think I’d suddenly make a dive for his dick. “And I may not be some kind of pastor’s daughter, but I chose you because…” Why had I chosen him? “…I’m a rebel too.”
He tilted his head. “There’s more to being a rebel than just saying it.”
“Maybe we’ll find that out together?” When he studied me warily, I sighed. “What do I even call you?”
His brow furrowed. “Omega.”
“Your real name.”
He unbuttoned his shirt with enough swagger to be a striptease, dragging it open to reveal just above his heart and the word that was branded there: OM.
His gaze was shuttered as he explained, “Our status and worth are judged in the womb. We’re allowed only this name.”
I forced myself to continue to meet Omega’s fierce stare. “That’s messed-up, and I’m not calling you Om; it’d sound like I’m freaking meditating.”
Omega barked with laughter, leaving his shirt unbuttoned in a casual way that made me long to caress his chest. “Good because enough bastards have called me that.”
/> This close, I could see the chafing around the thick leather collar at Omega’s neck. The collar was too tight and wound snake-like and stark against the paleness of his skin, yet it also glimmered as if alive. My shadows tingled at its wrongness. When I leaned closer to examine it, he recoiled.
“Will you leave off.” He batted me away. “Didn’t they give you a glossy brochure or something on the maintenance of your wolf? This collar tracks and monitors me, as well as being impossible to remove.”
I shoved Omega down onto the bed, straddling him as I gripped the collar. Okami howled, but I ignored him. Red coiled through the leather.
“Dude, impossible is my favorite game. In East Hampton, I had a workshop where I combined magic and tech. My uncle’s business tripled its profits every year and folks insisted that it was impossible.” I grinned. “Not with magic.”
I burrowed deeper into the collar with my shadows. It’d been woven with intricate magic and tech like my own inventions. I quivered at the spells and wards tied to the single strip of leather: so much more than Omega had told me.
My muscles ached, and I shuddered.
“Stop this, you headcase,” Omega panted. “If you tamper with the collar, it’ll poison me.”
Tiny spikes shot out of the collar pumping liquid silver into Omega’s bloodstream. When he screamed, thrashing side-to-side, I wrenched my red instantly backwards and out of the collar. Only then, did the spikes retract.
Jesus, first I brand him, then I stuff him in a wardrobe, and finally I get him poisoned with silver.
This wolf care was harder than it looked.
I cradled Omega’s head to my chest and to my surprise, he burrowed closer, rather than turning away. Tears leaked silently from the corners of his eyes, although he was keeping determinedly silent, as his hands clenched convulsively.
“All single skins are daft,” he forced out between clenched teeth.
“Oh, I’m aware.” Guiltily, I stroked Omega’s curls back from his forehead, as Okami licked Omega’s tears from his cheek. “Why does silver hurt you, huh?”
Just for a moment, Omega’s gaze became raw and vulnerable. “It’s said that the gods seeded us from silver but then abandoned us.”
I remembered the silver that had first called to me, coiling underneath the REJECT door. Omega had magic inside him, the same as me. Yet silver still hurt him. Were all wolves the same or was he special?
When I traced down his neck, he arched into the touch. “Well, that sucks.”
Omega glanced away. “It’s only a myth.”
I attempted Mischief’s imperious arch of an eyebrow. Hey, I could pull it off. “We are the myths.”
Omega snickered, however, which made him double up with pain. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts too much. I’m stealing that line though.”
I poked him in the side. “I saw something else inside the collar. Spells to control your shifts.”
Omega instantly sobered. “Fur and fangs, you have me locked up in magical chastity here. Since the end of the Wolf Wars and these…” His hand hovered over the collar, “we can only shift on a full moon, which is when we’re strongest. The original treaty allows it then because it’d kill us if we didn’t release our energy one night a month, but it’s hell not to shift at will. A witch can, of course, force a transformation on us when they want but that’s…” When he looked up at me, his long lashes curved onto his cheeks. “Have you any idea, single skin, the control that you have over me?” I pinked but shook my head. His gaze hardened. “Are you also planning to lock up my dick that you like so much in chastity?”
And boy, did I not need that image.
“Aw, if I did that, neither of us would be able to get much fun out of it.” I traced Omega’s lips with my finger, and he lightly sucked; I shivered.
Suddenly, the crimson velvet that had lined the wardrobe spun out and ghostly danced towards us. I didn’t even need to shout at Zetta to know that it was her. At least she hadn’t physically appeared. Yet when I studied the velvet, I gasped. It was my mom’s favorite cape, and the realization made my chest ache. It settled around my shoulders like my mom’s caress, and I wrapped it around me with a desperate need to feel her close. It smelled of her: a honeysuckle that reminded me of the nights that she’d worn it out to balls and parties.
When my eyes prickled with tears, warm arms clasped around my waist, pulling me closer. I reached for Okami, yet it was Omega comforting me with understanding eyes, even though I’d hurt and threatened him.
I blushed, attempting to pull away, but he only whined, licking up my cheek.
What was it with wolves licking?
At least Omega didn’t have a biting fetish like Okami. Wait, I mean, maybe he did…?
My crimson slipped out, stroking and caressing Omega, whilst Okami flew between us rubbing his silky tail across my skin. Omega arched into the red, as his eyelids fluttered, pulling me even tighter into his touch like he hungered for it…needed it.
Had he ever touched or been touched for pleasure at the center?
Had my rebel Omega even been kissed?
When my lips grazed his, however, he jerked away.
“Why have you come back here? Why Claim me now?” Omega’s gaze was laced with an insecurity that made my crimson caress around the collar.
“Hmm… My aunt sent me a text.” Wow, did that sound lame. “I hit twenty-one, which is when Wolf Charmers Claim their Charm. It’s tradition.”
“Aye, right,” Omega sneered, “because tradition is never used as an excuse by tyrants, bullies, despots—”
“Then let’s call it my duty. I guess that you won’t know much about that, seeing as you’d rather be a reject than do yours, right?”
Omega became ashen, before replying quietly, “You have no idea.”
“And then there’s responsibility. I’m sketchy on the details, but I know that it’s been the House of Silver’s responsibility to keep the supernatural peace for centuries.” I eyed him cautiously. “You and I are meant to help with that.”
For the first time since he’d tumbled from the wardrobe, Omega smiled radiantly, and my breath caught at its beauty. “Like Batman and Robin, with me being Batman, of course.”
“I don’t think so.”
He tilted his head. “The Avengers?”
“Seriously?
“Suicide Squad then?”
“How about, if you can find them in a comic, we’re not them.” I sighed.
“Why not?” Omega pouted. “You’d look sexy in tights, and I’d look even sexier.”
“I agree, moon virgin.” Zetta’s head popped out of the wall. Her eyes sparkled, as she looked Omega up and down. “Except, you’re not the superhero, you’re the captured villain like the Joker. The question is, whether you’re playing us the same as the Joker naughtily does.” She flashed her teeth more in a threat than a smile. “I’m onto you, delicious, because I never forget.” She winked at me. “Do you?”
The room spun in a sickening whir of silver, before images of a ballroom waltzed across the walls: ruby floors, crystal chandeliers, and my mom and dad dancing between their guests.
“S-stop it,” I wailed.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from watching, whilst the piano music turned to screams at the growl of the wolves and red, red, red…
Suddenly, someone was turning me to their chest and away from the nightmare of my parents’ murder. I sobbed, clutching to the warmth and comfort, wrapping my shadows around them. Okami clung to my hair, wailing himself at my distress. Omega was holding me and was almost as pale as I was. My tremors shook through him like we were one.
“The bastard show’s over,” Omega murmured. “You can open your eyes.” He kissed the crown of my head. I pulled back slightly, blinking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry…”
“Zetta wants me to h-hate you, but she’s wrong; I get it now.” I took a careful breath. “But the w-wolves who did that? I’ll kill them… I’ll k-kill all o
f them…”
Omega tensed; his gaze was serious. “I don’t doubt you, Charmer.”
Suddenly, my garnet ring hummed, burning with the stink of blood magic. I scrunched my nose at the coppery tang, which signaled that I was being urgently summoned to Stella’s house and by magic, rather than by car.
Panic coiled through me. Had I messed up that badly already or had Stella discovered that I was in danger?
I wound both my arms and my shadows more tightly around Omega so that he wouldn’t be lost in the journey. He gazed at me questioningly but there wasn’t even time to explain, before Stella’s magic dragged us out of my bedroom, hurling us across a scarlet path, as it burned through our blood.
CHAPTER FIVE
When you traveled by blood magic, you felt like a Champagne bottle that had been shaken too hard: fizzing, warm, and ready to pop.
I tumbled onto the bronze floor of the Clocktower in the House of Seasons, shaking with the bubbling of my blood, on top of Omega who wound his arms around me in shock and whined. I smacked my lips to get rid of the coppery taste, but it’d take hours to fade; I remembered that from the last time I’d been wrenched here to Stella’s house as a kid.
The first time, I’d been a hot mess of tears and screams for a mom who’d been freshly slaughtered. Then something had been forced down my throat…poison…and I’d awoken with my aunt and uncle in America and a new life, like the past could simply be forgotten. Yet here it was, biting me in the ass or sassing me to my face in the case of Zetta because you couldn’t just run away from the big bad wolves, who knew?
I glanced up at the loud ticking of the clock. Omega and I had landed in the center of the circular clock tower, which shone in burnished bronze with spiraling staircases leading up and down. A large glass clockface looked out over Oxford city far below.
“By my fur,” Omega panted, “a little warning next time. I feel like either my balls or my head are going to explode…and I can’t decide which one’s worse.”
I snickered. “A headless Charm wouldn’t be much protection but at least a eunuch could still be my warrior. It sounds like an easy choice.”
Only Perfect Omegas: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance Series (Rebel Werewolves Book 1) Page 5
