by Lizzy Bequin
Truk takes a deep inhale, and I get the impression that he’s sucking all of his emotions deep inside.
It grows quiet. The only sound is the whisper of the breeze through the grass and the occasional twitter of birds in the woods. I let Truk’s sad story sink in. He is shunned by the city Alphas, and he hates the Farlanders.
He comes from two worlds, but he doesn’t have a place in either one of them.
I can sense a deep loneliness inside him.
An intense desire to belong.
I can relate to that. As the only female marine in the SynerGen corps, I’ve never fit in. I’ve always felt like a pariah.
And then there’s the fact that I’m an orphan.
Well, not really an orphan—rather, I was abandoned by my parents.
Silently, I hate myself for what I’m about to do with that knowledge about Truk’s desire to belong—for the way I’m going to use it to manipulate him. But it must be done. If we are going to complete this mission, we will need this Alpha’s help.
“Truk,” I say softly, touching his arm. Beside me Dog tenses with possessive jealousy, but I sense that he is restraining himself. “Truk, will you help us? We need your help. Together the three of us can be like a…like a pack.”
At that, Truk’s eyes brighten.
“A pack?” he asks.
I can tell Dog is not fond of the idea, but I nod my head anyway.
“That’s right. Together we will be much stronger than we are alone. And you know the Zone better than us. And maybe you know something about the ways to approach the city ruins.”
Truk snorts and drops his head.
“You really aren’t going to give up on trying to get inside the city, are you?”
“It’s our duty,” I say, “Right, Dog?”
Dog nods, his face tight and stern.
I’m leaving out the part about how completing the mission is the only way for us to leave the Zone.
Truk is still for a long moment, and I can tell he is thinking it over.
“There may be one way,” he says at last. “The old sewers. We could enter from outside the city and follow the tunnels underneath. It will be risky but not impossible.”
“Then you’ll help us?” I ask.
Truk looks between me and Dog, his eyes a mix of emotions that are hard to read. Finally, he nods his blond head and stands up.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 13: DOG
After a few hours, the woodlands give way to rolling plains covered with grass, sliced with more and more ancient overgrown highways as we get closer to the center. The sun is warm, but there is a cool breeze blowing. Off on the horizon, dark thunderheads are piling up like a mountain range made of clouds.
“How are you doing?” I ask Sloane.
“Fine,” she mutters.
She’s a little pissed off because I’m carrying her over my shoulder.
It was a necessity. Even though she has excellent endurance, it’s nothing compared to me and Truk. We Alphas could run flat out for the entire day and not get tired. Plus, our longer stride makes it nearly impossible for her to keep pace with us.
“How much farther?” her contralto voice comes from behind me.
Truk, who is running in the lead, turns around to answer.
“We’re getting close,” he calls. “Just over the next set of hills, you’ll see it.”
He stays turned around, jogging backwards. His eyes are on Sloane’s butt where she’s bent over my shoulder.
“I can take her for a while if you want to share the burden, Dog.”
I answer him with a silent scowl. He just rolls his eyes under his heavy brow and turns back around, sprinting ahead a little ways.
Share the burden my ass.
I know what this half-breed Alpha is after. Share the prize is more like it. He just wants to feel Sloane’s supple body draped over his own shoulder. He wants to smell her wafting heat scent right next to his face.
That’s one reason I’m running behind him. That keeps the wake of Sloane’s scent trailing away from him.
The other reason I’m letting him lead is that he knows where we’re going.
Oh, I could find the city ruins easy enough. I don’t even need a compass. I can feel the pull of the Source drawing me in like the attraction of a great magnet. The farther we travel, the stronger the feeling gets.
It’s like an invisible light, emanating outward from the center of the Zone. And at the same time it’s like a whirlpool, sucking me in, dragging at every cell and molecule of my body.
But to get in via the sewers—we’ll need Truk’s help for that.
I don’t like it.
I don’t trust this half-Farlander Alpha as far as I could throw him.
He turns and glances back, sneaking another peak at Sloane’s behind. I bare my teeth and snarl at him. He returns the gesture.
“What’s the matter?” Sloane squirms to see what’s going on.
“Nothing,” I say, stowing my anger.
Truk gives me one last quick glare before facing forward again and racing up the slope in front of us.
“There it is,” he calls back. “The ruined city.”
We ascend to the top of the crest and pause. I set Sloane down so she can have a look.
The city stands in the distance, a stunning conglomeration of towers with a network of crumbling roads extending out in every direction.
“It’s green!” Sloane sighs with amazement.
Truk nods. “It’s because of the vines.”
He’s right. I’ve seen it from up close, and it’s pretty incredible. All of those old and crumbling buildings are covered in a network of climbing vines that have grown up during the years since the great Cataclysm.
“It’s beautiful,” Sloane whispers.
A wind comes up and swirls across the top of our hill. Off to the east, those thunderheads are darkening, growing into an ugly, anvil-shaped tower of vapor, with tentacles of rain spreading and casting shadows over the landscape. Silent lightning flickers within the cloud.
The storm will be on us soon.
“We won’t make it to the city today,” Truk says. “Not before that storm gets here. We’ll need to find someplace to bed down for the night and weather it out.”
Bed down?
What exactly does this jerk have in mind?
As the wind doubles back, I get another big noseful of Sloane’s scent, which is growing stronger again. I took good care of her needs last night, but her estrus is returning with a fury, and soon it will need tending again.
I’m not keen, however, on the thought of sharing her with Truk.
“Come on,” the half-breed says, racing ahead. “I know a place where we can shelter nearby. Follow me.”
Sloane gives a little cry of protest as I toss her over my shoulder again and follow him.
CHAPTER 14: SLOANE
We have taken shelter beneath a ruined overpass. It overhangs a valley made by an ancient highway that winds over the landscape like a river of crumbling asphalt.
Evening has come down early, the darkness brought on by heavy, rain-swollen clouds that cover the Zone like a gray counterpane. The breeze pushed ahead of the storm is refreshing after the long day of traveling in the blazing sun, and it cools my skin. The rain comes on slowly, first a slight drizzle, then plump, splashing drops, and finally an outright downpour.
Clutching my knees against my chest, I sit by the fire and watch it come down from the shelter of the overpass above.
It was once a massive freeway, Dog explains, back before the Cataclysm. Since then, however, the massive structure has collapsed, leaving only an overhang of crumbling concrete and rusted rebar.
An involuntary groan escapes my lips as a wave of pain ripples through my body.
“Are you cold?” Dog asks. “Why don’t you move closer to the fire.”
He is squatting by the fire that he has built from dead wood he gathered before the rain started.
The truth is, I’m not cold at all. My body is feverishly hot—an intense, pulsating heat emanating from deep within my core.
It’s my estrus coming back.
Dog took care of it quite thoroughly last night, but that was only a temporary fix. Over the course of the day, it has returned gradually, and now it has reached an almost unbearable intensity. Besides the heat, I’m experiencing sudden cramps and spasms. And that’s not to mention my nipples, which have grown painfully erect—as hard as pebbles beneath my thin tank top.
I’m literally getting so horny that it hurts.
Still, despite the desperate heat of my skin, I move closer to the fire like Dog told me. There’s something comforting about its flickering orange light, which is casting wavering shadows against the underside of the collapsed overpass above. And there’s something comforting about knowing that Dog made it himself. It’s a symbol of his ability to take care of me.
All my life, I’ve struggled to be independent. I’ve never been one to rely on other people, especially not men.
Maybe that comes from being abandoned by my parents.
But ever since my transformation, that’s been changing.
There’s a war going on between my mind and my body.
And my body is winning.
“It feels good,” I sigh, as the warmth of the fire caresses my already hot skin, drawing out beads of sweat across my flesh.
“Good.”
Dog’s voice has taken on that strange, enticing purr once again. The one that he used last night when he pleasured me to death’s door.
I find myself staring at the stern, swarthy Alpha, studying his features in the quivering light. The wings of his nostrils flare wide. He is drinking in my scent. I suddenly become aware that I am sitting with my legs spread wide, practically taunting him with my pheromones.
And those pheromones are certainly having an effect on Dog. The black elastic of his shorts is stretching and bulging with his growing erection. I can see the contours of it through the fabric—the shape of his heavy balls and long, girthy shaft. I can even make out the details of his glans and the little V-shape that I know is so sensitive.
The memory of having that dominant, Alpha cock inside my mouth last night—the smell of Dog’s musk, the tang of his hard flesh and the salt of his hot semen—all of those remembered sensations send even greater desire pulsing between my thighs, swelling my tender lips down below and moistening my cotton panties to a shameful degree.
Cursing my intractable body, I clap my legs together so fast that my knees clack painfully.
“You’re sweating,” Dog says, looking at the moisture pebbling my skin. “Shit, you’re not cold, you’re burning up.”
He rises, completely unashamed of the massive erection bulging at his crotch, and walks away from the fire. I watch him as he goes, unable to take my eyes off his incredible bubble butt flexing with each stride.
Dog steps out into the sheets of rain falling beyond the shelter of the overpass. He cups his hands and raises them, catching the falling water. It is coming down so hard now that it only takes a couple of seconds for the bowl of his hands to fill.
He returns, his wet body shining in the fire light, rivulets of rain tracing down the contours of his carved physique. He kneels before me, stretching out the dripping bowl of his cupped hands filled with rain water.
“Drink this.”
His voice has that tone of command that should piss me off, but instead makes me feel all kinds of other things.
“Go on,” he says when I hesitate. “The rain here is clean. Not like the poison that falls from the sky in the city hive.”
He read my thoughts exactly. The idea of drinking water from the sky is so foreign to me. The rain that falls on the city hive is greasy, corrosive stuff, swimming with black ashes.
But not here in the hive.
I press my face to his palms and drink. The water is cool and clean on my lips and tongue, more pure than anything I’ve ever tasted in my life. I swallow it all and raise my head gasping.
“Want more, little one?” he purrs softly.
I nod my head, blushing at his term of endearment.
Dog smiles and strokes my cheek. He strides off to the edge to collect more rain. As he is doing so, a man-shaped shadow appears in the distance. We both tense up, but immediately relax as we realize that it is just Truk returning from his hunt with a brace of wild hares slung over his shoulder.
He steps out of the rain and into the circle of firelight before shaking the water from his body like a wet hound. I clap a hand over my mouth to hide my amusement at the sight.
But something about his animalistic nature gets me hot too, and another painful pulse of desire ripples through my body, clenching my sex.
I bite back a whimper. I need to keep it together in front of these men.
Once he’s done shaking, Truk stands erect, twisting his hips and stretching in front of the fire, absorbing its warmth.
“Not exactly hunting weather,” he says with a smile, nodding to the wet hares lying on the ground. “But I managed to nab a couple of conies before the rain really hit.”
There’s a hint of joy in his voice. He’s enjoying having company for a change.
As Truk stretches, his muscles shift and work beneath his taut, tan skin, and I can’t help but stare. Yet another wave of desire pulses in my nethermost parts, followed by shame as I know that even more of my pheromonal scent is wafting into the air.
Sure enough, Truk’s nose twitches, and a moment later I see something jump—literally jump—beneath his fur loincloth.
Something big.
“Well, let’s get these hares skinned,” Dog says.
There is a hint of annoyance in his voice, probably because Truk has returned.
The two Alphas set to work skinning the animals, Dog with my carbon-steel combat knife and Truk with his primitive dagger of napped obsidian. As I watch them, I start to get the impression that they are competing, both trying to show off their skills to impress me—to show me who will be the best at taking care of me out here in the wild.
As messed up as it sounds, that just turns me on even more.
Two dominant Alphas competing over me.
It’s totally inappropriate, and not at all in keeping with my usual attitude toward men.
I remind myself it’s just a side-effect of my new condition, and I choke back another wave of painful arousal.
Once the hare’s have been skinned, they prepare a rack and spit made of two upright sticks plus a third horizontal one to roast the meat over the fire. The smell combined with the herbs that Truk collected sets my mouth watering something fierce. It’s been a full day since I’ve eaten.
My hunger is a welcome distraction, and for a little while I’m able to forget about my body’s other little problem.
As soon as the meat is cooked, Truk lifts it off the fire and places it on a flat stone that he’s using for his cutting board. With his stone knife he divvies it up. I watch greedily, mouth watering at the sight. When he hands me a piece, I snatch it out of his hands and dig in, plowing through the meat until I have gnawed it down to the naked bone. I toss the bone away and grab another piece, tearing into that one every bit as voraciously.
I look up to find both of the Alphas staring at me over the fire in amazement.
After a moment, Truk bursts into laughter, rocking back on his butt.
“She’s a real little predator, this one!”
Dog just grins.
“Oh you have no idea,” he chuckles. “You should see her fight.”
“Hardy-har-har” I mumble through my mouth full of meat and chuck the cleaned bone into the fire.
What do these guys expect? I’m frigging starving.
But I have to admit, it’s kind of nice to see them getting along now, at least a little bit.
Suddenly, another cramp wracks my body, and I fall to my side, wincing and squeezing my thighs tightly.
�
�Sloane!” both of the Alphas say in unison.
They rush around the fire, grasping me and supporting me from both sides. The combined scent of their Alpha musks, both strong and both slightly different, fills my senses, sending even more intense waves of desire and need shivering through me.
I try to sit up, but my body isn’t doing what I want it to.
Instead, I find myself lying back into my Alphas supporting arms, head lolling weakly, legs falling open as my body writhes and my lips mewl and whimper.
“Her estrus,” Dog growls.
“No,” Truk says, cradling my head. “It’s her heat.”
“That’s what estrus is, idiot.”
Truk glowers.
“Outsiders,” he mutters. “You have fancy words for simple things. Anyway, whatever you want to call it, we have to do something about it.”
I gasp wetly as his big rough hand glides up the inside of my thigh, moving toward the place where my legs come together—the source of my need and my exquisite agony.
There is a snarl from the other side, and Dog swats his hand away angrily.
“Don’t touch her,” Dog snaps, baring his sharp fangs.
Truk growls and shoves Dog away, and before I know it, the two Alphas are up on their feet, circling and growling at each other, muscles tensing in preparation for a fight.
CHAPTER 15: SLOANE
“Please,” I whimper, writhing on the ground with need. “Don’t…”
But the Alphas don’t hear me over their own snarls and gnashing teeth.
“The omega is mine,” Dog hisses threateningly. “She belongs to me, and I’m sworn to protect her.”
Truk snorts. “What she needs is someone who can take care of her needs, Outsider. She needs a real Alpha.”
As messed up as it sounds, watching the Alphas fight over me like this is just making my problem worse. My skin is screaming with desire. My body is overheating with pent up need that only the Alphas can relieve.
Both of them together.
