Page 33 of Desperate Omega

“I’m not little,” she growls. “And I have other senses besides sight. I’m no stranger to exploring dark places.”

That’s probably true. I noticed as soon as I saw her in the graveyard that her body bears a lot of scars for an omega. The kind of scars an alpha would have. Scars from fighting and hunting the wild beasts of the Zone.

“I’m not putting you down,” I tell her. “Not until Thorus tells me to.”

“Oh really? And what about when you need to take a piss? Do you have to ask Thorus for permission for that too?”

I experience a sudden scorch of anger, but it quickly turns into a chuckle. This omega is not like the others. Most of the females in the Zone are gentle, soft-spoken creatures, but not Syra. Her attitude is more like that of an alpha than an omega. Her body, however, is all woman. Soft, supple, round in all the right places.

And her scent. Holy Source, her scent…

Ahead of us, the tunnel opens up into a larger, roughly circular chamber with several other small tunnels branching off from it. I don’t need my eyes to see this. The echoes tell me everything I need to know. Besides, this is my hideout. I’ve been here hundreds of times. I know where everything is, and where all those various tunnels lead.

I carry the omega into the very center of the chamber and wait for the others. I hear Markus come shuffling in behind me, his footsteps slow and uncertain. Then Thorus is there, moving through the darkness with the quiet confidence of a cave lion.

“Brik,” he says. “The omega is dirty. Take her and bathe her.”

“Bathe me?!” Syra shouts.

“We have been traveling for several hours in the hot sun,” Thorus says calmly. “Not to mention everything that happened to you this morning. Do you not wish to get clean?”

“Yes, but I can clean myself. I don’t need an alpha to bathe me.”

Thorus’s voice remains calm, but I am familiar enough with my pack leader’s moods to hear his impatience growling beneath the gentle surface.

“These caverns are dark and dangerous,” he says. “It is easy to get injured or lost. You need someone to accompany you.”

“Then let me take her,” Markus interjects.

I scowl in the darkness.

“No,” Thorus says flatly. “You are as unfamiliar with these caverns as Syra is. You’re going to stay here and help me get a fire started. Then you and I are going to talk.”

Thorus is speaking to Markus, but I sense that that last phrase is addressed to me as well. He wishes for me to interview the omega while I am bathing her. Afterward, we will compare notes.

He wants to see if we can trust this unpierced alpha.

There is a moment of silent hesitation from Markus, but at last he relents.

“Very well.”

“Don’t I get any say in this?” Syra asks angrily. “It’s my body we’re talking about here.”

“Of course,” Thorus replies. “You may remain here if you wish, with your body covered in sweat, seed, and blood. Or you may let Brik bathe you. Those are your two options.”

Syra doesn’t answer, but I can feel her glowering on my shoulder.

“Well?” Thorus says. “What’ll it be, omega.”

“I’ll let Brik bathe me,” she grumbles.

That is all the encouragement I need. I immediately head for the tunnel which leads to the hot spring. But before I have exited the main chamber, Thorus’s voice stops me.

“Brik.”

I turn and face my pack master in the dark.

“Yes?”