“And half of the bullshit spouted about omegas is socialised, not biology. The fact we are having this conversation now, that you can question what happens between an alpha and an omega, is evidence of that, isn’t it?” I blinked, her words landing inside me like depth bombs. “If you truly were the mindless creature, your brain would shut down, unwilling to hear or even understand what I’m saying, but that’s not what’s happening.”
I stiffened, shifting my wrist in Marcus’ grip until it loosened, and when he looked at me, all that passion and anger and frustration was there until he rapidly packed it away again. Instead, a familiar smug look replaced it.
“I’m going to enjoy this, omega. Your scent drove my lovers mad when you marked me with it last night.” His eyes dropped down, his smile fading. “It does the same with me.”
And then he turned, dragging me over to a plush chair, filling it with his large frame when he sat, then arranging me across his legs. I wriggled, restive, feeling an instinctive need to get the fuck up and run.
“Peace.” This was rasped against my ear, the feel of his fangs grazing the shell making me shiver. “It’s bad enough that I’m plagued by the need to throw you on your feet and let you run through this glorious monument to excess, just so I could hunt you down, but every time you move that pert little arse, it grinds on my aching cock.”
He chuckled when I went perfectly still.
“A drink, sir?” a waiter asked, appearing by our side.
“A Scotch, neat, oldest one you’ve got.”
“And for the lady?”
He took a deep breath, sucking my scent in, reading me.
“Same, and keep them coming.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Relax, omega,” Marcus said in a much calmer voice now. “The scent of fear is just as potent an aphrodisiac, but the alphas you’ll attract as a result are not the ones you want, I think. No waivers and consent discussions with them.” He let out a long hiss of a breath. “You have no idea how many omegas are locked up in fancy arse pl
aces like this. Thank you,” he said when the waiter returned with our drinks.
“Should I be drinking?” I asked, hating the question as soon as it was out of my mouth, consulting the brown liquid as if it had the answers.
“You should do exactly as you please. I’ll watch over you, hold your hair back if you vomit, whisper sweet nothings as you do. You’ve thoroughly entranced my pack, made yourself their project, and so you’ve become mine.” I turned to see him tip the Scotch to his lips and swallow, smiling mockingly at me. “No harm will come to you. I won’t let it.”
The challenge in his eyes glittered right up until I took a mouthful of the Scotch, then his focus returned to the room, his hands slowly sliding through my hair.
“Wouldn’t expect to see you here, McCallum.”
Several tall men appeared, settling down in the chairs in front of us. The cut of their suits and the careless way they wore them all spoke of wealth.
“I didn’t recognise you, without all the hoopla,” the other said, carelessly waving to the space around us. “That and you don’t have Orion Ratcliffe’s cock halfway down your throat.”
“Jacoby, Smythe, still fucking arseholes, I see. To what do I owe this displeasure?”
“Well, we had to take a look at the omega that caught your eye. All those vows of fidelity to Orion gone once you got a sniff of omega pussy?” the dark haired one said. Jacoby, I think.
“Admittedly, it is very fine pussy. What’s your name, sweetheart, or doesn’t the big bad alpha let you speak?” said the other man, who had light brown hair meticulously combed back in a side sweep. He leaned towards me, chuckling once Marcus began to growl.
“Cyn Rhodes,” I said, sticking my free hand out abruptly, making Smythe frown.
“Rhodes? You’re…”
“Yes,” I replied, taking his limp hand and shaking it, pulling away before his grip could firm and show his dominance over me.
“What the hell is a girl like you doing here?” Jacoby asked with a frown, then started to look around. “Where’s your chaperone?”
“Right here,” I said, leaning back and daring to trail a finger through Marcus’ hair. I snuggled in tighter to Marcus, nestling my head into his shoulder.
“Yeah?” The frown gave way to a smile on the stranger’s face, his eyes going heavily lidded. “Well, if that’s your scene, you should come into the backrooms. Something as pretty as you would prove to be delicious. Come, omega.”
An imperious, offhand command, it had me shifting in my seat until Marcus’ arm tightened around me.