As though summoned, there he is, shadowing the doorway with his massive six-foot-seven frame like some sort of golden demon. His mohawk has grown out on the sides a little and flops softly at the top, giving him a couple of extra inches with the blond fluff. The buzz in the bar dies down as he enters, and I can see the wary looks he’s given as he searches around the bar. He’s shaved at least, after weeks of us hassling him about being an unruly swamp goblin of a man, the equally golden beard is neat. Grey eyes light up as he spots us, only outdone by the megawatt smile that dimples his cheeks and nearly scrunches his eyes shut. The bar quietens even further, and I hear an Omega at the other side whisper‘Wow’as he hauls ass towardsus, folding himself into one of the barstools. Sliding a straw into the Omega’s drink, I lean over the bar a little towards her, desperate to catch even a hint of her scent.
“Atlas here is going to sit right there and keep you company from some of our more ungentlemanly patrons tonight,” Raising a hand before her mouth can open, I give her a soft growl that makes her breath stall, “He won’t touch you without permission or good reason.”
Swinging her legs under her stool, she spins towards him with a deepening scowl. As curvy as she is for an Omega, Atlas makes her look like one of those little dolls, dwarfing her easily by over a foot and a half in height. And width. And pretty much every other direction. Like the golden retriever he is, he directs that beaming grin at her and sticks his hand out. Watching Atlas’ charm at work is always like magic, the disapproving look on the Omega's face disappearing by the second, melting when she places her tiny hand in his.
“Atlas Amberwood, ma’am.” Enveloping her fingers between his, I can’t help but wonder how his big body would cover hers in bed, too, and what she’d look like stretched around his knot in a tangle against his black sheets.Noooope.It has been far too long since I’ve had someone warm my bed, and trouble over there ain’t it. My hand and I have a hot date tonight, but I still have a couple of hours left, so I turn to pour drinks.
“Skye Kerris,” I hear from behind me, wondering how I’ve spent so much time in the presence of this beautiful woman and haven’t even thought to ask her name.
Skye
The mountain of pure Alpha man meat in front of me has a smile that could drop a nun's knickers.
Looking between Atlas and the slimmer Alpha behind the counter, I snort. Atlas looks like the Greek god he’s named after. A little tan, muscles on muscles with these big expressive gray eyes and a nose that's been broken one too many times and hasn’t set right, yet it seems to fit on his angular face. Something about him makes me feel safe despite his size. My wolf and Omega are both sitting up appreciatively as I look him over, and he almost politely turns away to watch the bar, flexing his big cannonball shoulders. I could laugh; he knows I am ogling him, he’s probably well used to it, but is giving me the chance to look him over anyway. The white shirt strains against him, holding in all that Alpha-ness as he sips the water he’s been given by the other. The man behind the bar is a sharp contrast, olive skin peering beneath a black polo, and long, dark hair that's bundled up into a half-up that keeps it clear from his face. A thick, but short beard is trimmed around his full lips and Adam’s apple, drawing down his throat to—
“Do you have a collar tattooed on your neck?” Disbelief colors my tone, and the barman smirks at me, tugging at the collar of his shirt to show the realistic brown leather collar. Shiny metal loops and a thick buckle complete the remarkable rendition, but my eyes find even more as I look him over,too. Tentacles coil over his shoulder, and I wonder if it’s some nautical theme just like the bar.
“That and more, pretty girl,” He winks, back to serving before I can question him further, dancing around the tall female Beta that joins him behind the bar. What a strange Alpha. He has the draw of a Cardinal—the pack leader—but his flirtatious and carefree attitude is almost the complete opposite of any Cardinal I’ve ever met. Turning back to Atlas, I’m once more speechless as he stretches upwards, my mouth dry as I watch his shirt lift…Lift… A flash of skin beneath his shirt, and I think I just ruined my panties.
Riiiiiip.
Arms immediately dropping, the Alpha's face flames beetroot, and he searches the fabric, fingering the new tear in his shirt. My opinion slides dramatically from ‘oh hell, he’s hotter than the devil’ to‘oh no, he’s adorable too.’
“Not again, Fury’s gonna kill me. I only just finished sizing up my wardrobe.” Looking as downcast as he does, I force my tongue into my cheek to stop myself from laughing at him, forcing down the smile with the straw between the muzzle bars and taking a long sip. Sweetly pungent alcohol kicks against my tongue, and a soft groan escapes, distracting my new friend from his shirt as his face pulls tight. Thick fingers reach out to trace the bars of my fancy face mask, but I back off before he makes contact, snapping at them.
“Sorry,” He mutters, crossing his arms and tensing like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching out again, squeezing his fingers into his elbow ditch, “Fury said I wouldn’t touch. I was going to ask why you had it is all.”
I have the decency to shrug and grumble an apology back; I don’t think he meant any harm. “Sorry, I don’t have a good history of being touched by Alphas or strangers.” But oh, how I wanted to. Wanted to be buried against this giant puppy of aman's chest and let him take care of me, just for a little while. I’d give anything to be able to scent them just now, to rub my cheek against…No.This is definitely the drugs talking. I must be perfuming like crazy, yet the big vents around the room are tightly leashing any scents to the point I’d probably have to lick them to get a hit, and that just isn’t something you do in polite company.
Prickling at the back of my neck confuses me more. Usually, I only get that feeling around other shifters, too, and I wonder if there is someone here of the non-human variety that is bothering my Spidey senses. Chalking it up to the drugs again, I toy with the straw in my drink, wondering how long before the facility will notice I’m gone and send out the squads. It has to be at least half an hour now, so someone's likely to come to find me and notice the open window.
Atlas bows his shaggy head in acknowledgment, his knuckles white as he clutches his arms, “You came from the auctions, right?” He asks, deep voice low and growly, his eyes are growing storms, “Did nobody put in a bid for you?”
“Do I look like someone bought me?” Rolling my eyes, I wince a little at his kicked-puppy pout, realizing how dangerous this man could be to my sanity, “I wouldn’t be sitting here, buying my own drinks if I had a pack.”
The other Alpha, Fury, slides me a fresh drink with a long curl of lime peel across the rim, and my brows slam down. He’s another step closer to my scent, though I don’t think he even knows it. Maybe there’s some weird paranormal magic afoot, but I think he’d tell me if he could smell me, “Your drinks are on the house, pretty girl.” Crystal blue eyes twinkle, vividly blue against his darker skin, then he glares at his pack mate next to me and turns, only to stop to catch my drool. Atlas is rolling his hefty shoulders again, pulling his shirt up to reveal a cut Adonis belt, and I don’t stand a chance. The thick cloud of perfume escapes,and the slick is damp between my thighs, cloying in the air, and finally overriding the mechanical menace that’s keeping the air clear. Both men turn to me then, their pupils immediately turning their eyes to black pits and nostrils flaring.
Moving before I can stop myself, I’m standing closer to Atlas and heaving in great lungfuls of air just to get a taste of their scents.
Atlas smells like the forest after the first summer rains. Petrichor and the breathtaking wild heat take me back to the deep woods around my childhood home, where I lost time, exploring between the ferns. Fury leans closer to us both, almost lying his lean body across the counter to bury his nose against Atlas. He’s trying to drown my scent out, and there’s a little part of me that’s pleased knowing he’s struggling to control himself and grounding his Alpha with his pack. Whiskey reaches my nose, thick and heavy and chased by the smoke from a burning log fire, like a hit of pure pleasure.Fuck.My mouth is like bone dust now, my pheromones pouring like a waterfall whilst my instincts are pushing me to drag these men to the floor and create a health and safety hazard in a pool of my slick.
“I, uhhh,” I begin, taking a deep breath to steady myself and immediately regretting it as I get another hit of their potent scents, “Sorry. Glad to hear I don’t have to try and dodge paying. Hope the boss doesn’t mind.”
Fury’s chest expands slowly, and he bares elongated fangs in what’s supposed to be a smile, but it’s too feral, “I like to treat myself sometimes, babygirl.”
Scowling at him, I resettle in the stool and take another long pull of my drink. The air scrubbers are working their hardest, and it’s fading as long as I stay away from them, hanging off the edge of my seat, “Call me pet names again and we’ll see if your knot is detachable.”
I’m waiting for a snarky response when a deep, rumbling purr interrupts us. Without a second thought, the two men next to me are up and snarling before a hot breath puffs through the metal of my protective collar. Teeth click against the mesh, and an arm curls around my belly from behind, lasting only half a second before a fear-filled whine escapes me, and the touch is removed. Atlas is already in front of me, blocking access and pinning me back against the bar, with a strange Alpha sprawled across the floor. It’s the one from the facility…Ryan? Ronan? Riley!Flushed red with anger and maybe a little too much alcohol, he clambers back onto his feet and, for a moment, I think he’s going to strike back when the growl from Atlas silences him, vibrating through his massive frame like thunder. Fury is white-knuckling the counter behind us, tension in every tendon of his body, and for a moment, I wonder if he will live up to his name.
Despite the terror flowing through me, the worry that an Alpha grabbed me and nearly sank his teeth into me, my stupid Omega takes a moment to remind everyone—with an extra strong cloud of perfume—that I have two powerful Alphas protecting me. She’s practically bending over the bar and begging to be mounted and knotted.Good Alphas, strong Alphas, perfect to pack up.I silence the little voice in my head. The wolf is a little more under control, focused on the threat rather than the sexy men still growling away.
“Atlas?” I reach out to him, fingertips brushing his solid back, the heat radiating through him feels like static electricity where we touch, “I’m okay, big guy. No harm, no foul.” But there's no response from him, too busy watching Riley, who’s still mouthing off and trying to lean around the wall in front of me to speak.
“Come on, cutie pie,” Riley slurs, “The little thing my pack contracted with is so timid, and I can’t get your scent out of my nose…”
Yuck, not the flirtatious chat-up line he hoped for.
“Charmed, but I’m spoken for,” I gesture to the two Alphas and relax into Atlas, feeling the aggression leave him bit by bit, his shoulders dropping slightly as I peer around his arm. “My apologies to the Omega you bid on. I hope she rejects the shit out of you.”
