“Soon,” the dark haired guy growled. “Smells pretty fucking juicy, but can’t have her in heat. I’m not going into rut, not yet, and neither are any of
you.”
“We’re not getting tied down,” Marcus said. “Not until we’ve found someone that works for all of us, right? Right?”
The last word was barked out, an order that had all of them jolting, then nodding their heads.
“I just want to taste her fucking slick. You want that, omega?”
This guy was just as tall, but not as heavily built as the others, as if he’d come late to his alpha status, but the way he grabbed the girl, hand around her throat, the other sliding down her body, it convinced her all right. His russet brown hair glinted like autumn leaves in the stray rays of sunlight as he pushed down the strap of the girl’s tank top.
“I asked you a question.”
The hand tightened around her throat, something that drew a little whine from her, a reaction I hadn’t understood. This was like some kind of savage, incomprehensible ritual, one I should have scuttled away from. If I ran back, quiet as a mouse, scurried up my tree and back into my room, then put a call through to the Omega Centre, as we’d all been instructed to do, maybe I could have avoided all this.
Because I didn’t. I crouched down deep in the bushes as the swell of her breasts were revealed to the satisfied growls of the alphas, as their hands, too big, too rough, covered them, caressed them, plucking at those bead-like nipples until a long, whining cry escaped her.
Were they hurting her or making her feel good? My mind wrestled with the idea, which coupled with the sure knowledge I couldn’t do much about it either way. But that didn’t seem to stop me from becoming a silent witness.
“You like that, little omega? You have to say,” Marcus insisted, brushing the other boys’ hands away until her mind cleared. She stood there, panting like she’d run all the way here, stripped to the waist, her pale skin pebbling in the cool air. “You tell us what you want, and we’ll make you feel good. Give you what you need.”
“Yes…” she finally hissed. “Yes, Marcus, please. I want you.” She blinked when no one moved, giving the others a cursory glance. “All of you.”
The four boys came forward as one, running their hands over her skin, and she gloried in it. That craving, that need, it was as alien to me as if they’d cut her head off before me. I wanted to be at home, locked up in my room, reading my books and drawing pictures of strange lands. I wanted to be the good beta daughter my mother wanted me to be. I wanted…
“On the bonnet and strip her naked,” Marcus said, pulling his shirt up and over his head, revealing a body much talked about by the revealed girls at school.
Golden skin, broad shoulders covered with a full back tattoo of an eagle, this was the body of an adult, not a boy, and she seemed to know that. The others did the same, the dark haired guy’s back sporting a raven, the auburn haired one, a wolf. But he was the last to strip his shirt off. Shaggy sandy coloured hair falling half over his face, he said the least, made the least noise, and perhaps that was the reason for his tattoo. A bear was drawn in the barest of lines, using his already incredibly pale skin to form the animal, standing between several pine trees
“You want out, you gotta say, omega,” Marcus said, stepping closer as her clothes were removed, as she reclined like a babe in a car mag across the car. “We want you.” He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling out his cock and palming it as if to prove his point. “But you want this to stop, you only gotta say.”
She licked her lips as her eyes went around the semicircle, taking in the display of semi-naked flesh, but it was him, Marcus, that sealed the deal.
“You want to fuck me?” she asked.
“More than fucking anything,” he replied.
That was the moment it all shifted for me, from being a kid spying on some really inappropriate teenage shit to being shoved rudely into adulthood. That rough, corded voice, that sheer bleeding need. People don’t need kids, didn’t want them like those boys wanted that omega right now. She had a power she didn’t even understand, was too far gone on alpha pheromones to exploit, but I sensed it, caught up in a spell now, barely even able to blink. Not when she said yes, reaching for Marcus and getting the dark haired one, her initial resistance dissolving the moment his hard mouth slammed down on hers. Not when the rest of the guys got their cocks out, stroking them slowly to the sounds of the omega, not when the dark haired alpha’s hand slid up her thigh and into her cunt.
“Fuck, her slick…” dark haired guy said, pulling his fingers free and separating them so we could all see how viscous it was. He licked his fingers messily, the other guys grabbing his hand and sucking it clean. She watched, the tightening of her spine making her disquiet evident, but when the dark haired one dropped to his knees, burying his face in the source, that all bled away. Her cries sounded like the birds as they filtered through the forest, and some called back in recognition.
“Don’t knot her,” Marcus said, sliding up behind the dark haired one when he pulled back, face glistening, running his hand up and down the other alpha’s hard stomach. “Don’t bite her. We don’t make anything permanent. Not until we all agree.”
The others nodded at the order of the alpha of alphas.
“Gonna give you what you need, little omega,” the dark haired one, his purr a throatier, deeper thing, like the feel of velvet being rubbed on your skin.
The boys all watched with fascination as he thrust his cock into her weeping cunt, her thighs glistening in the dim sunlight, the noise he made when he bottomed out sounding like his soul was being fractured, then put back together again. It was a sound I’d carry with me all the way into adulthood, a life goal to hear someone make that same groan when they were with me.
Because that was what the life lesson was here, one I didn’t realise until I got to my feet, catching the moment Marcus’ fingers pierced the dark haired boy like he did the omega.
“That’s it,” he crooned, moving in time with the other boy’s strokes. “Give her what she needs, and I’ll give you what you need.”
And then they kissed, savage and biting things, the way alphas do when they have no omega to soften things. But they had one, right in front of them, something that made her curl up, still gasping with pleasure, but confusion warring within that. The reddish haired one pushed her back down, taking her mouth with the same degree of brutality, which had her lying back, a wild, squirming thing again.
“And how did that make you feel?” my therapist asked me, and I answered her as best I could, but there was only so much a beta can understand. That something woke inside me that day, in those boys’ kisses, in their harsh grips, their desperate thrusts, something I was still struggling to get my head around. But as is often the case with designations, my body had other ideas. A sweet perfume, like sugar and wildflowers and sun-warmed laundry filled my nose, drowning out all other scents, making my brows knot, and then I felt it. My slick, I realised later on, but at the time, it had felt like I’d pissed my pants. I jerked at the sudden rush of wetness, staggered back towards the trees, not caring at what kind of noise I made. I ran, some instinct that had just been awakened kicking in, telling me to run, run, run, all the way home.
“Perhaps you were running from the changes to your body,” my therapist suggested. “Perhaps you still are. You’re…twenty-five now. Most omegas find their alphas before then, if only to stop being plagued by the attention.”