“They’re pack,” Mitch said. “Pat, Bryan—”
“Paul and Chris.” Frederick finished the list. “But the blood …” He furrowed his brow. “It smells like…” He looked at Mitch. “Like you.”
“Like me?” Mitch asked in confusion.
Before Frederick could explain, a knock distracted him. He turned to the door and, with Mitch at his back, opened it.
“Alpha.” The four men they’d scented tilted their heads to the side and exposed their throats deferentially.
There was nothing in their body language that spoke of danger, but they had a few scratches on them and their clothes were disheveled, indicating a fight, so Mitch stayed on guard.
“What happened?” Frederick asked, getting right to the point.
“There’s a shifter in town. One who isn’t pack.”
“Just passing through?” Frederick asked.
Shaking his head, Paul said, “Judging by the campsite, it’s been a couple of days.”
Instinctively, Frederick growled low in his throat. Driving through town was one thing, setting up camp was quite another. No shifter would stay in a pack’s territory without making an introduction to the Alpha unless he meant trouble.
“May we enter?” Chris asked. “There’s more you need to know.”
Torn, Mitch kept his body between the men and the house. On the one hand, they were pack. And on the other hand, they smelled of blood, and Lucy and Donia were in the house. But that scent…there was something about that scent. With a reluctant grunt, Mitch stepped aside.
“Yes.” Following his brother’s lead, Frederick opened the door wider so they could come in. “Tell me what you know and we’ll go deal with the intruder.”
The men beamed, clearly pleased they had information their Alpha found useful. As they walked by, the scent of the stranger’s blood got stronger and, without thought, Mitch’s chest rumbled. All four men moved as far away from him as possible while still entering the house and walking toward the living room.
“The blood,” Frederick said, articulating Mitch’s train of thought. “It’s not yours.”
“No,” Pat said disgustedly. “But don’t worry, we left the Omega for you to finish off.”
“Omega?” Frederick’s posture straightened, and his tone changed from suspicious to concerned. “You found an injured Omega? Where?”
A growl sounded right before Donia stormed in. “He doesn’t need an Omega! He already has a mate.”
“You’re not supposed to be out here,” Mitch said to Donia. “Where’s Lucy?”
“I grew up with these guys.” Donia pointed at the men in her living room. “When I realized who was here, I took Lucy to her room where she can be comfortable, and I came out to join my mate.” She stomped over to Frederick, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. “Mine,” she said, her voice low, but still audible to the rest of the room.
When choosing sexual partners, Alpha wolves generally preferred Omegas. And though it wasn’t an absolute, on the rare occasions Alphas had mates, they were most frequently Omegas. The dominance, possessiveness, and protectiveness inherent in Alphas melded well with the submissive, calm, deferential nature of Omegas.
Frederick’s mate was the furthest thing from an Omega, but she needn’t have worried because Frederick wasn’t a typical Alpha. Their mother had always joked that Frederick traded a share of his dominance for Mitch’s charisma. Both were important traits in an Alpha, but Mitch clearly had more of one, while Frederick was blessed with the other.
“Yes.” Frederick circled his arm around Donia’s waist. “I’m your mate.” At six feet, their eyes met easily. “But there’s a wounded Omega, Donia.”
The mix of emotions was clear on her face—jealousy, protectiveness, and concern. The characteristics that motivated her to eliminate anyone she perceived as a threat to her mating were the same as those that prevented her from turning away a wolf in need. Especially because Donia had a soft spot for Omegas.
“Don’t worry, Donia,” Bryan said with a laugh. “Your mate won’t want this Omega around. We would have gotten rid of him ourselves, but we thought our Alpha would want the honor.”
“Him?” Frederick said. “Did you say him?” He jerked his gaze to Mitch whose mouth had dropped open and heart had started racing.
“Yeah.” Paul nodded. “A male Omega.” He scrunched his nose and pursed his lips, as if he tasted something bitter. “He tried to act tough, but scents don’t lie.”
With two big steps, Frederick was in Paul’s face. He took hold of his wrist and looked at his fingernails. “This is his blood?”
“He wouldn’t leave so we had to—”
“It’s his blood?” Frederick barked, clearly uninterested in an explanation.
“Yes,” Paul replied hesitantly. “He’s a male Omega, Alpha. They’re useless to a pack. Less than useless.”
“Stop talking!” Mitch shouted. There was something about that scent, something that called to him. Knowing it came from a male Omega gave him hope for a future he had long since thought impossible. Mitch squeezed his hands so tightly, all his knuckles cracked and then he looked at his brother hopefully. “Freddy?”