by Lizzy Bequin
The rain has let up. It is now little more than a drizzle.
The wind brings me the omega’s scent, hot and enticing.
My cock is painful with arousal.
Every fiber of my being is pulling me toward her, goading me to step out of the shadows. To confront these two Alphas and claim my prize. But just a few more strokes of those lovely lips and my victory will be assured.
Once they are both spent, the Alphas will be no match for me.
Despite my raging desire, my discipline keeps me rooted in place.
My discipline, and also my hatred. I remind myself that this omega is an Outsider. I remind myself of her people’s cruelty. Their soullessness. Their concern for nothing but material things. Objects.
Most of all, I remember what they did to my sister, Talia.
And I hate myself for my attraction to this Outsider omega. It goes against everything I stand for, everything I care about.
But her damn scent is too strong to resist. It gets inside my mind. It seeps into my body, controlling my muscles against my will.
My feet seem to move of their own accord, carrying me from my hiding spot toward the orgy in the firelight.
The wind shifts.
The omega’s nose twitches. Her concentration on what she is doing is broken, and she withdraws her mouth, strings of saliva gleaming orange in the firelight.
She turns, and her eyes catch mine.
“Alpha,” she gasps. “There’s an Alpha.”
The Farlander is already stumbling to his feet, baring his teeth and growling, but he is sluggish from his expenditure. The other Alpha, the Outsider, is a different case. He shoves the omega off, and springs to his feet lightning quick, popping his jaw and snarling like a mad dog.
I curse myself for giving in to the omega’s lure, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.
Now it’s time to fight.
Someone is about to die.
CHAPTER 17: SLOANE
Oh no, not again.
Dog and Truk shift into fighting stances, their rain-wet muscles rippling with tension in the light of the fire. They are both growling viciously at the interloper hiding out there in the darkness where the rain has slacked off to a mere drizzle now.
Whoever, or whatever, is out there, it is invisible to my eyes, but the smell is unmistakable.
It’s an Alpha.
And he’s extra dominant. I don’t know exactly how I can tell that; I just know. My olfactory sense has developed to the point that I can pick up messages within body odors that I never would have imagined.
However, my nose is sending my brain mixed messages about this Alpha. It’s telling me I should fear him. But at the same time, it’s telling me I should do something else to him that is totally inappropriate.
“Show yourself, coward,” Truk snarls. “Step into the light.”
There is nothing cowardly, however, about the figure that swaggers forward from the velvety shadows.
He is massive. Even bigger than Dog, both in height and sheer mass. He is dressed only in a leather loincloth that is much more carefully crafted than Truk’s fur one. The wavering orange light reveals a physique composed of muscles on top of muscles, but also exceedingly lean, giving him the appearance of being carved from polished wood.
His head is shaved to the scalp on the sides, leaving only a strip of hair down the middle, stark iron-gray against his tawny skin. He doesn’t exactly look old, however. Rather he appears silvered, the way some dominant male animals are.
His darker gray brows are slanted to cruel-looking points over a pair of intense eyes gleaming like dark jewels. Bared fangs shine ivory white amid a salt and pepper beard.
He is impressive, to say the least. However, the thing that really transfixes my attention are the dozens of steel piercings reflecting the flickering light of the fire. They are all over him—through his ears, his nostrils, his lips, his nipples.
And one other place.
His loincloth has been lifted by the massive pole of his erection. Obviously he has been watching us for a little while and enjoying the show. Now, with a fight impending, his arousal is waning, but before it falls completely behind the leather of his loincloth, I catch a glint of steel down there too.
Oh God, his cock is pierced.
Just like the Alphas from Lily’s neural chip recording that I saw before.
My pussy—already raw and wet and tingling from Dog’s rough tongue—pulses briefly at the uninvited thought of how that hard steel piercing would feel abrading my soft insides.
But more important, those decorations mean this Alpha is from our destination—the city ruins.
That certainly complicates things.
Snarling and growling, Dog and Truk advance, spreading apart to surround their opponent. Just this morning, the two of them were fighting each other. Now they are already moving as a tandem unit, as if they can read each other’s minds.
They are bound by their mutual need to protect me.
But that doesn’t mean I have to sit by helplessly like some damsel in distress.
My gun is right where I left it in its holster, next to my crumpled shorts. Acting on sheer reflex, I somersault toward the weapon.
In the back of my mind, I realize how absurd I must look—I’m dripping wet and butt-naked except for a pair of black combat boots—but I don’t let that distract me.
In one smooth motion, I have whipped out the .40-cal and rolled into a crouch, the sights lined up on the tribal Alpha’s center mass.
He’s a big target.
Too bad I don’t have any ammo left.
But he doesn’t need to know that. Hopefully he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Don’t fucking move!” I try to shout, but my voice is embarrassingly hoarse for all of the screaming and loud moaning I’ve been doing for the past good while.
The pierced Alpha’s eyes flick to the muzzle of my gun. He simply sneers. He doesn’t seem too concerned about bullets, and I have no doubt that his enormous size belies his speed. I’ve seen enough evidence of Alphas in the past two days to understand that.
And this guy is no ordinary Alpha.
Still, my gun isn’t the only deadly weapon on my side. I watched Dog brutally dismember a whole damn pack of Farlander Alphas yesterday. And based on the fight this morning, I know that he and Truk are pretty evenly matched.
But they are not taking this new guy lightly, and I don’t blame them.
Then again, the pierced and bearded Alpha hasn’t made a move yet either.
All parties involved are aware that the outcome of this fight is uncertain. The only thing that is certain—once the battle begins, someone is going to die.
The big Alpha snorts, and looks at my protectors with disdain, then back to me.
“Interesting pack,” he growls. “Two Outsiders and a Farlander. I like to kill Outsiders and Farlanders.”
His language is heavily accented, similar to Truk’s but deeper and more guttural. The sound sends a shiver wriggling up my naked spine.
Truk straightens a little.
“I’m no fucking Farlander,” he spits.
The big Alpha turns toward Truk and stares incredulously. He sniffs, testing Truk’s scent.
“A half-breed then,” the Alpha grumbles. “Just as bad.”
Now he turns his stare to me and then Dog.
“And what, pray tell, are you all doing here, so near the homeland of my people?” His eyes glide back to my body, glancing at the mess of wetness between my legs. “Besides the obvious.”
Even in this dangerous situation, I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. It’s one thing to know that Frostgrave and the other scientists have been monitoring our sexual activities. At least it’s easy to forget about that—out of sight, out of mind.
But knowing that this guy caught me in the act with two Alphas at once—it’s so shameful.
I shove those thoughts out of my mind and steady my gun. Meanwhile, Dog and Truk hav
e moved into position. The tension in the air is palpable, like a vibration.
“I’ll repeat my question,” the Alpha snarls, “What are you doing here?”
My mind races as I try to think of an answer. Before I can open my mouth, Truk blurts it out.
“The Outsiders are here on a rescue mission,” he says. “I found them and offered them my services as a guide through the dangerous Farlands.”
The Alpha snorts and glances down at the fading semi-hard erection between Truk’s legs.
“Right,” he says sarcastically. “Your services.”
Beneath his pierced brows, his eyes dart toward me again. I have the sensation of being prey in the sights of a deadly predator. I squeeze the gun tighter, taking comfort in its cold weight, even though I know it’s useless.
I take even more comfort in the fact that I have my two Alpha protectors with me.
Still, I feel strangely drawn to this new Alpha too.
It’s just my estrus, I tell myself. It’s messing with my mind, not allowing me to think rationally. But it will pass.
“You said a rescue.” The Alpha’s voice is a low rumble. “Who?”
I wish that Truk hadn’t said anything about a rescue. That could complicate things. This Alpha is clearly from the city ruins, which is where Lily is. And I doubt the Alphas there will be interested in handing her over to us now.
But I’d really like this standoff to have a nonviolent conclusion if possible.
And maybe, just maybe, this Alpha can help us get close to our target.
I decide that honesty is the best policy.
“We’re here to rescue an Outsider female by the name of Lily O’Neal.”
For the first time, I see the Alpha’s mask of cool confidence falter. It’s a small change, but my new hyperacute senses pick up the signs. The dilation of his pupils. The quickening of the pulse ticking in the thick veins at his neck and wrists. A short sharp inhale of surprise.
“Lily?” The aggressive edge has gone out of his voice.
I nod, still keeping my gun trained on his torso.
“You know her?”
The pierced Alpha grows quiet for a moment that drags out into a minute. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. A log pops in the fire and I jump, but quickly regain my composure.
“Are you deaf?” Dog snarls, his body tense and ready to attack if necessary. “She asked you a question, big man. Do you know this Lily O’Neal.”
The pierced Alpha gazes at Dog with contempt. Dog doesn’t back down.
“Yes, I know her,” the Alpha answers at last. “I can take you to her. There’s just one condition. You have to stop pointing that boom-stick at me.”
“Boom-stick?” Dog scoffs.
The pierced Alpha cuts his eyes at him again.
“A joke, Outsider,” he snarls. “I know what a gun is. But we have little use for such weapons here in the Zone.” He glances toward me again. “I can tell, however, that the omega is adept in its use. Lower it, and we can talk.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Dog growls low, not taking his eyes off the hulking giant.
I try to run through the scenarios here. Even if we manage to kill this tribal Alpha, some of us are sure to sustain wounds and that will compromise the mission. If the Alpha gets away alive, he will surely warn his companions, and our cover will be blown.
And then there’s the third possibility.
He kills all three of us.
I don’t know if he’s that strong, but I don’t want to find out the hard way.
The best thing to do is go along with his proposed truce and pray this giant isn’t planning to screw us over somehow. If he’s being genuine, then maybe he can get us close to the target.
“You really know her?” I ask. “You really know Lily?”
The Alpha nods, his face stern and deadly serious behind his iron-gray beard.
“By the Source I swear it to be true.”
In the corner of my vision, I notice Truk relax slightly. He holds one arm toward me, gesturing.
“He’s telling the truth.”
Dog snarls. “Fuck that. You can’t be sure.”
“I am sure,” Truk retorts. “An Alpha of the ruins would never break an oath sworn upon the Source.”
The Source. I’ve heard Truk using that term before. It seems to have some religious significance for the inhabitants of the Zone. Like a deity or something. I’ll have to remember to ask Dog about that. Perhaps he knows something about it.
But right now is the time for making a decision.
I take a deep breath and exhale a silent prayer that I’m making the right play.
My gun lowers. I place it beside me on the ground and rise.
“What are you doing?” Dog growls.
“He knows where Lily is. He can help us.”
“He doesn’t mean to help us. He means to kill us.”
I look the Alpha up and down. Something has changed about him. The mention of Lily has surprised him—shocked him even. I’m not exactly sure why, but I intend to find out.
“If you know where Lily is, can you take us to her?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“I can take you.” He points straight at me. “The Dog and the Halfbreed are too dangerous, though. I’m not going to bring them into my territory.”
“Fuck that,” Dog snaps. “There’s no way you’re taking her alone.”
I have to agree with that. Truk seems to believe that this Alpha warrior is a man of his word, but I’m not going to take a major risk like that.
“I’m not going alone. We all go together, or not at all.”
The warrior looks between Dog and Truk one more time, then shrugs.
“Fine,” he says. “I will take you there tomorrow.”
Seriously? Just like that? Based on his appearance and demeanor, I would never have taken this guy for a pushover. Something is definitely up. There’s something he’s not telling us. Still, he’s our best chance at getting into the city at this point.
“Okay?” I say.
The Alpha nods and strides toward the thick concrete pillar that is supporting the broken remnants of the overpass high above our heads, He slumps down against its base.
“We will leave at first light then. Now, if you are all done with your playtime, I recommend you get some sleep. The sun will be up in a few hours, and we still have a long way to journey.”
He leans his head back and closes his eyes. His breathing instantly modulates to a slow, steady pace, and it seems as if he has already fallen asleep.
Truk and Dog slowly move back toward me, but they never take their eyes off the other Alpha. Dog shakes his head.
“You can’t be serious,” he mutters to me. “You can’t trust this guy. He’ll kill us in our sleep.”
“I’m not going to kill you in your sleep,” the Alpha grunts without opening his eyes.
“I don’t believe him,” Dog says.
Still keeping his eyes shut, the Alpha sighs with exasperation.
“I swear it by the Source.”
Truk gestures toward Dog and speaks in a quiet voice.
“We can trust him. The Alphas of the ruins are brutal, but they are honorable. They keep their word, especially if they swear upon the Source.”
There is a strange tone in Truk’s accented voice, and a glow to his face. It takes me a moment to identify it.
Admiration.
He is filled with overwhelming admiration for the Alpha warrior. All his life he has been an outcast, a pariah. All he’s ever wanted is to be accepted as part of a tribe. All he’s ever wanted is to join the tribes of the ruins.
Dog rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” Dog grumbles. “But we sleep with Sloane between us, and we take turns keeping watch until daybreak. You may trust this fucker, but I don’t.”
Truk nods.
The night is getting chilly, and a shiver runs through my muscles. I’m suddenly startlingly aware once
again of how naked I am—how naked we all are.
“Come on,” Dog says, guiding me by the shoulder. “Come lie down. I’ll put more wood on the fire.”
He casts one last mistrustful glance at the warrior where he is slouched against the column, his piercings winking in the light of the dying fire.
“Hey,” Dog calls to him. “You got a name, Alpha? What do we call you?”
The Alpha grunts, and casually scratches his back against the column like a bear.
“Kane,” he answers. “You can call me Kane.”
CHAPTER 18: DOG
Well, here we are. Another day, another Alpha.
I don’t like it.
The thing is, my attitude toward Truk is changing. Yesterday, I was wary of him, but last night he proved that he’s willing to fight alongside me to protect our omega.
Our omega.
We share her now, and we share the responsibility for her safety.
Truk is trustworthy. His primitive mind is too simple for duplicity and schemes. If he was planning to double-cross us, I would have sussed it out by now.
The new Alpha, Kane, however, is an entirely different story.
He’s up to something. I can smell it on him.
He’s leading us into a trap.
About a mile outside the city perimeter, Kane leads us up a slope. At the top of the rise there was once a small building. Now all that remains are two broken rockcrete walls meeting at a right angle, their crumbling tops slanting down to the ground in jagged lines. A small rectangular window is set into one wall.
Kane pulls up beside the decrepit wall. Leaning his bulk against the cracked rockcrete, he gazes off toward the city.
From this distance, I can easily make out Alphas moving about in the city ruins. The population is sparse—nothing like the teeming tide of flesh that fills the hive city of Galadon-1 to the bursting point. Still, there are dozens of Alphas that I can see, and I know from my previous excursions that there are hundreds more inside.
And each of these ruin-dwellers is more than a match for ten Farlanders. Their bodies are stronger, their minds sharper.
