He slid his hand down my suddenly also naked thigh.
Because apparently Dream Omega was both romantic and horny — don’t judge me.
This was only a fantasy, what did it hurt?
Now for the fun part… I smirked as a bottle of chocolate sauce that had always been my favorite on breakfast waffles, materialized in my hand. In a long squirt, I created my masterpiece, then sat back on my heels to admire my creation.
Now that was art.
I leaned forward, holding my hair not to let it get sticky because even in a dream I hated the idea of detangling, about to take a long lick of my chocolate dick and ball cone, when Zetta blew against my ear.
I shrieked and tumbled off the bed.
Zetta snickered, leaning against the bed and leering at chocolate smeared Omega who only smiled back at her unashamedly in a way that the real Omega never would. But then, he wouldn’t have been writhing under me and promising to be at my command.
At least, I didn’t think that he would.
“Oh, is this a bad time…?” Zetta fluttered her lashes.
“Yeah, it sort of is.” I shooed her with my hands, but she only licked her lips as she studied the chocolate sauce.
“Certain there isn’t room for one more?” She twirled. “Like my fabulous self?”
“Go to hell. My dreams are private. I can’t keep you out of the rest of the house but in here,” I tapped my forehead, “I want you out.”
Zetta clutched her chest. “Oww, I felt that one. Wow, you’re brutal but then I should’ve been expecting that. Maybe next time I won’t warn you that whilst you’re sucking your dream wolf, your real wolf has escaped…”
Holy hell…
I ignored Zetta’s smug grin and closed my eyes.
Wake up, wake up, wake up…
Then my eyes shot open in the darkness of the real world, and I was alone in the silk sheets of my bed, with no chocolate sauce, naked Omega, or Zetta.
I knew that I should’ve bought that cage.
Aquilo had been right about Omega: he had appeared bright, whilst he’d been examining that body. Yet how dumb was it for him to try and escape? Even at a distance, I could simply poison him with silver through his collar or bubble his blood, until he howled in agony, through the Charm that linked us. Then I only had to track him via the collar.
There was no way that a werewolf Claimed by a Wolf Charmer could run.
Yet I hesitated to do any of that and not simply because I could still feel Dream Omega’s kiss on my lips and craved to feel the real thing. The need to protect him coiled through me, just as strongly as the one to control.
When the window slammed open, and the night breeze gusted the sensual scent of honeysuckle across my cheeks, I shivered at Zetta’s ghostly chuckle.
“We’re playing haunted house on the night that I’ve lost my wolf?” I sat up, throwing off the sheets. “You do know that tomorrow I’m the only witch standing between us and all-out war?”
The bedroom shook with the sound of exploding bombs.
I grimaced as I slipped out of bed, shrugging on my dressing gown over the loose t-shirt that I slept in. “Yeah, you’re right; we’re screwed.”
When I stalked to the window to pull it shut, however, I caught a glimpse of someone on the formal lawns, behind the walled courtyard and the orchard.
Omega lay naked on his back, bathed in the moonlight. His skin glowed silver as if his magic had been drawn in gentle waves to the surface. He was even more sinfully beautiful than before; my breath caught at the sight. When I concentrated, I could feel his calm and bliss, as if it was reaching out to me through the Charm and he’d never been happy before.
Perhaps, he never had been.
I pushed down the swell of distress at that thought. I knew I’d had my wardrobe stuffing moments, but I hated that the real Omega hid such unhappiness from me.
“Escaped, Zetta?” I hissed.
“It woke you up, didn’t it?” Zetta’s voice crooned in my ear. “Should I try a bucket of water next time? Anyway, the wards here don’t extend that far, so your naughty wolf has technically broken the rules. I know you’re crazy, but you didn’t forget to give him permission to go outside…?”
“Technically, I’ll kick your ass if you call me crazy again and technically, nope, I didn’t tell him that he could go outside.”
“Then you better go and retrieve your wolf.” Zetta wrapped her arms around my waist, before whispering into my ear. “Crazy.”
Just as I spluttered in outrage, the world around me bled like a wet painting. My stomach dropped, and I fought not to hurl. Then I tumbled onto the lawn next to Omega.
Omega glanced at me with a lazy smile like he’d just feasted and was far too full to either move or be amazed. I edged closer to Omega who was still sprawled on his back, basking in the moonlight like a moon angel. My blood hummed, along with my red, at his eerie beauty: a silver prince.
I craved to reach out and stroke down his chest but not as I had in the dream. I didn’t want him to obey me, I wanted him to love me. And where in holy hell were those thoughts coming from…?
White moths fluttered around Omega, as if unable to decide if he was brighter than the light in the sky.
“Goodnight, Moon,” Omega whispered with a small secret smile as he stared up at the sky.
Maybe that was a wolf thing…?
I flushed. “You look blissed out like you’ve just eaten…you know,” I couldn’t help the grin, “chocolate sauce and waffles happy.”
Why do I put these images in my mind…?
I closed my legs, shuffling even closer.
Omega turned his head and blinked. “Goddess Moon, did I need permission? Were you…? Am I being starved?”
The fragile honesty of his question, which wasn’t a plea more like a resigned expectation that I’d say duh, of course made my crimson sting.
“I know that I messed up at the House of Seasons.” When Omega eyed me warily, I continued in a rush, “But I’d never be the sort of dickhead who starved you. Has that happened before?”
Omega relaxed again, rolling his shoulders. “I was in the REJECT cell with no windows.” He glanced up at the moon like it was his goddess. “It’d be easier to ask when I wasn’t starved.” When he pushed himself onto his elbows, I instantly missed the wash of contentment that had vibrated through the Claim. “Right, back inside is it?”
“Hold up…you feed on moonlight?” I gaped at the way that the streaming beams glowed on his pale skin.
It was epic to be the one to feed him. Yet why was this need to provide so strong?
The shifters were linked to the moon in a far more complex way than I’d ever imagined, and despite what I’d painted, the other witches taught, and I wanted to believe because of my parents’ murder, it was captivating.
And every bit as magical as my own powers.
Omega clasped behind his neck, twisting as if searching for something. “Weren’t you arsed to read my label…?”
I laughed, pulling him down with me again onto the warm grass. He cradled happily into my side, nuzzling into what appeared to be his favorite spot on my neck. When his breath ghosted across my skin, I shuddered.
The wash of contentment was back.
“Hey, Zetta,” I yelled up at the mansion, as if it was my vast Elizabethan Alexa, “play Franz Ferdinand for my Aries rebel.”
When Omega chuckled, his lips curled against my throat.
The punchy rock of Franz Ferdinand’s “The Fallen” burst from the House of Silver like a breath of life and a threat of violence over the garden. It was lucky that I didn’t have neighbors, except for the ancient woodland.
Omega bounced up, grabbing my hand and swinging me to my feet. “Now I’m content.”
I laughed, as he spun me, before dragging me close. My crimson wound around his silver in a dance far more primal and wilder than our own like it’d always known the steps and had simply been waiting for us to catch up. The t
ruth of that was both breath-taking and terrifying. Then his expression suddenly became serious. He glanced down and then up at me through his lashes.
“It’s forbidden for an Omega to take a name.” He rubbed his nose lightly against mine like he needed the reassurance. “Yet my older Alpha cousin who raised me, since my parents took so little care in it, risked…everything…to bless me with one. Can I trust you with it?”
His intense stare told me how much of a gift this was and as brave as I was coming to realize Omega might always have been.
I nodded, winding my shadows more closely around him, whilst clutching his branded palm to mine. He quivered, as I traced over the letters: WCH. “You’re my Charm: I promise that you can trust me.”
“Wolf shifters have a creation myth,” Omega whispered, “about our Goddess Moon. Once, a lonely child is given a hiding when he wakes up by his ma who calls him a savage child. All day, he tries to make friends, but everywhere he turns he’s rejected as the savage child.” When Omega shook, I held him tighter. “Then at night, Goddess Moon shines through his window and claims that child, saying: You’re mine. I created and seeded you. You’re my Moon Child.” Omega’s smile was soft, as if he was remembering all the times that this story had been told to him. “The child follows Goddess Moon into a clearing in the woods, where he discovers all the other savage children transformed into wolves. He’s not alone. Now he has a pack.”
Why were my eyes burning? Why did I long for a pack as well like those savage children?
Omega swiped his tongue over his lips, before resting his forehead against mine. “At night, when my cousin tucked me into bed, she’d tell me that story, before she’d kiss the end of my nose…” When Omega kissed the end of mine, it felt more intimate than when Dream Omega had been writhing beneath me smothered in chocolate sauce. “Then she’d stroke my curls…” I ran my fingers through Omega’s curls, brushing out strands of cut grass, and he sighed. “…and finally, she’d whisper so that only I could hear: Goodnight, Moon.”
It hadn’t been a wolf thing then, but something so private, I blushed that I’d overheard.
“Was that the only time, you know, that you were able to use your name?” I asked.
Moon — because I never wanted to think of him as merely Omega again — nodded. “My cousin was a fierce woman or a headcase for risking naming me. Betas are rarely allowed more than nicknames, but at least they can choose them. I loved my cousin for not caring that I was an Omega.”
“Loved?”
“Nay, not now.” He turned his head away, but I gripped his chin, turning his gaze back to mine.
“When was I a rule Nazi? Look how many witch laws I’ve already broken. Let’s reclaim your name.”
“Aye, right,” Moon huffed, “like a witch would allow—”
“Moon,” I murmured, “if I call you by your name, please call me Crimson and not witch.”
The intense joy that lit Moon’s face when I used his name warmed me in a way that I hadn’t been expecting. Was that the first time he’d heard anyone speak his name, except for his cousin? And had that been centuries ago when he’d been a kid?
Moon’s grin was radiant, as he ducked his head, trying to hide behind his curls, but I didn’t miss the gleam of tears in his eyes.
My crimson reached out to his silver, stroking soothingly, until he lifted his gaze to mine.
“That sounds fair, Crimson.” He took a shuddering breath. “But tomorrow in the Wilds, I must be reduced to Omega again. Those bad bastards aren’t keen on rule breakers, and I should know. If we don’t find a way to solve the murder and stop those rotten relatives of yours, then war would mean the wiping out of my pack. And I won’t let that happen.”
I recoiled at the steely determination in his eyes. Then I curled my hand into his. “Honestly, I’m down with that plan. Whatever it takes, we do it. Just remember that you’re talking to someone who knows more about cocktails then potions.”
Moon’s lips twitched. “Aye, it’ll be tough, but I’ll try and remember that.”
At a sudden rattle and clatter above, I glanced up at the roof of the mansion. The attic window jerked open, then Ramiel’s elegant leg balanced through onto the roof, followed by his pink waterfall of hair. His wings lit the roof in a violet glow. Then he reached through and helped Mischief out as well, who slipped and swayed for balance, holding tight onto Ramiel’s hands.
Mischief peered down over the edge of the roof at Moon and me. “My, is this a private orgy or can anyone join in?”
“How about not paranoid angel mages who attack me?” I crossed my arms.
Next to me, Moon had gone very still.
Mischief rubbed his wing across the roof, cleaning it for Ramiel, before they both sat down on the edge, swinging their legs off the dizzying height. “Come now, I also tried to warn you about the creature within this house wearing your mother’s face. Excuse me, what am I thinking, I’m nothing but paranoid, of course. The house didn’t trick you, hasn’t trapped me here, and isn’t draining me of my powers like a battery.”
My eyes widened. “Trapped…draining… What…?”
Mischief sniffed. “It’s no matter. You have a naked wolf to snuggle. I can’t even leave the wards set by the malevolent spirit…”
“Zetta,” I supplied. “Sometimes, she goes by Elvis.”
“I don’t care if she calls herself Mahatma Ghandi, she’s stealing my power, and I assure you that it can be for nothing good.” Mischief pointed at me. “You promised to help me get home.”
“Yep, but I’ve just discovered that I’m the official war blocker for the wolves, which sounds like the official cock blocker but less fun.”
“Rarely is it fun to be cock blocked.” Ramiel pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear as he studied me. Why did those words sound even dirtier in his soft voice?
Suddenly, I realized that Moon’s magic was arching out of him in light trails and reaching to Mischief’s, which in turn spun a glimmering path down to his like a rainbow.
Moon shook as he stared up at Mischief. “My god,” he breathed.
“Nope, a royal prick,” I shrugged.
Mischief shook his head; his gaze was dark. “In fact, your wolf was correct.”
Moon gasped, but his face shone with awe, as he dropped to his knees in the sudden deep silence. The silver rainbow sprayed in a shower over his head like a blessing.
I shook at the hushed tension of the moment.
Then Mischief raised an imperious eyebrow. “Lucky me, I’m going to die in a haunted house but at least I’ll be worshiped by a wolf, whilst I expire.”
“His name is Moon,” I snapped.
Moon winced. Did this mean that I could no longer insult his god, even though that was half the fun with Mischief?
“I apologize, Moon, I don’t demand that you kneel.” Mischief waved his hand airily. The mage was going to be a smug asshole now that he had Moon sitting up and begging. Moon pushed himself to his feet, diving to my side and nuzzling back at my neck. I guess that it wasn’t every day that you met your god. “Respect, devotion, some of that cuddling on the other hand wouldn’t be out of the question…”
Ramiel turned Mischief to the side and smacked his hip crisply. Mischief yelped and flushed, rubbing at the spot, as he shot Ramiel an aggrieved look. Ramiel merely clasped his arm around Mischief’s waist, pulling him onto his lap.
“Let me amend that,” Mischief continued, as if he hadn’t just been spanked, “I don’t demand anything from you. Back in the Realm of the Seraphim, I defeated my own father who demanded nothing but hollow worship. All that has meaning is love and loyalty. Perhaps, wolf shifters are bastard Children of the Seraphim. I may be drained of my power right now, but I shall defend you as if you belong to me.”
Moon flinched. “Bastard?”
“Tell me, where is the shame in that?” Mischief’s gaze blazed. “I’m a bastard too and as a bastard, I toppled worlds.” His smile widened into something
dangerous. “I expect that you shall rip out the throat of old ones and savage new kingdoms into birth.”
Huh, and that little speech wasn’t hot at all.
“Okay, enough with the apocalyptic encouragement.” I caught Moon by the neck, twisting him to face me. “In a couple of hours, we’re traveling into the Wilds, which according to my aunt is the kingdom of savages and outcasts to catch a killer.” When Moon’s eyes darkened, and his gaze slid away from mine, I shook him. “I know that they were your…tribe? People…? I feel like I want to go with pack but—”
“Family,” Moon said, finally meeting my gaze. “That’s who we’ll be meeting, even if they abandoned me in the Training Center.”
Every time I thought that I knew how to treat Moon, I messed up.
I reddened, before nodding. “The thing that terrifies the hell out of me is that I’m meant to be this warrior Wolf Charmer, but what if one of them goes all grrr like you did and I piss my pants?”
Moon grasped my hand, playing with my fingers between his. “Right, like I’d let anyone harm you. You won’t be alone; you’ll be with me.”
“That’s kind of the problem because you’re a wolf too.” Moon stilled, before dropping my hand. Instantly, I missed his touch. “At least, let me get used to it. Show me how you did it in the Clocktower.”
Moon’s lips thinned. “Fur and fangs, do you not know what you’re asking? Someone and their little prick put a stop to all my shifting unless forced by you.”
Now he was pissed at me, along with the Wolf Tamer injection, freaking fabulous.
“Little prick?” Ramiel stroked his hand down Mischief’s side, and I couldn’t help the shiver of desire, wishing that he was stroking me. “That would be a Fallen then?”
“Nay, a witch.” Moon assessed Ramiel, and Ramiel flashed him a grin. “You’re not telling me that angel cocks are bigger? Because wolf ones are known for—”
“Enough with the Cock Contests.” My shadows reached out, dragging Moon to me possessively. “Let me see the fur beneath your skin.”
I tugged Moon closer by his collar even though he struggled.
Mischief rose off Ramiel’s lap. His wings beat like violet moths. “Do you imagine that simply because I’m not the kneel before me style of god,” I shivered at the coldness of his voice that boomed through the garden, “I would allow a mere witch to force herself upon my people? A shift is something sacred, yet I’ve suffered the indignity of its violation. How about you respect that, or I shall show you the magical and far more painful equivalent of the cock block.”
Only Perfect Omegas: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance Series (Rebel Werewolves Book 1) Page 8
