Page 39 of Shared Omega

I hook my legs under and kick hard, sending him flying across the room. His body crashes into the crumbling wall, and it shatters behind him. Even more sunlight streams in through this new hole.

The Alpha reels backward, on the edge of falling to the ground below. His hands claw at the ragged plaster and wood of the wall.

He manages to catch himself.

The Alpha rushes me, but this time, he’s attacking head on and I’m ready for him. I shift my weight low, catch him, and throw him over my shoulder, slamming him to the floor so hard that its rotten boards break and he crashes to the floor below.

“Dog!” the omega shouts again, as if it is the only word she knows.

Is the Alpha’s name Dog?

Seriously?

I turn to study her, and once again our eyes lock in the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the wrecked walls.

Are these two mates? They must be. The omega is in heat. But her scent is weak. The Alpha has been tending to her needs then.

Her neck, however, bares no mark. There is a dark, rectangular symbol, an Outsider tattoo, but no sign of her Dog’s teeth.

He has not marked her yet.

She is yet unclaimed, and her heat is calling me, sending my body into the rut. It is clouding my judgment as my blood is rerouted from my brain to my hardening cock.

“Sloane!” a voice growls from down below.

Is this the omega’s name? Sloane? It is a strange Outsider name, but somehow it appeals to my desire for her.

She could be called anything, and it wouldn’t matter.

All that matters is that I bury my knotted cock deep inside her and paint her womb with my hot Alpha seed.

“Sloane,” the Alpha calls again from below.

The omega just stands there, brandishing her knife and gun. For a moment, I think she’s actually going to attack me, but then she turns, and I hear the patter of her booted feet racing down the stairs.

I turn back toward the smashed hole in the floor and peer over the edge. The second floor is dark, but in the hazy light from up here, I can just make out the Alpha getting to his feet.

Though I’ve been fighting with him, I haven’t really taken a chance to look at him yet. His dark hair is cut close to his skull like the omega’s. He is not naked like a Farlander would be, but he is also not dressed in leather or furs. Instead he is wearing a pair of shorts made from some manufactured black material.

More Outsider clothes.

Who are these two?

No time to think about that now. I need to eliminate this Alpha so I can claim the omega for myself.

I leap down, landing on top of the Outsider Alpha with a snarl.

Probably not the best strategy.

The ancient floorboards protest beneath our combined weight for a moment, then they give way with a terrific crash, and I find myself tumbling through the air, riding the Outsider down to the ground floor.

We land with a thud as dust and debris rains down on top of us. The impact knocks the wind out of my lungs, and the Outsider gets the better position, rolling on top and clutching my throat in his hands. In the light streaming through the open front door, I see his face red with fury and his eyes bloodshot.

“Die,” he growls between gritted teeth.

I hear another sound.

Tiny feet thump-thump-thumping down the stairs. A pause as she leaps over the missing steps, and then more footfalls as she races down.