The next hour passes peacefully. The sky starts to lighten, and it feels damn good to be near home. As I pull onto the pack house driveway, a wave of exhaustion hits. It’s been a hell of a night, it’s not surprising the dregs of my adrenaline are wearing out. The sight of my home, standing alone against its backdrop of trees looks wonderful.
Callum is waiting at the end of the long gravel drive. A few of the others are waiting with him. I wish he was alone, but it can’t be helped.
I park the car and haul Fitz out to present him to my Alpha. The omega squirms a little under my grasp but doesn’t truly resist as I march him over.
Callum’s beefy arms are crossed, his muscles bulging in his tight army green tee shirt. He is a big guy, bigger than me. He can’t be bothered dealing with his hair so he keeps it buzz cut short. Add in his husky blue eyes and he is an intimidating looking man.
Right now, his gaze is cooly assessing Fitz. I shove the omega in front of me until he is standing directly in front of Alpha. Then I grab a fistful of silver hair and yank his head up so Callum can get a proper look.
Callum says nothing, but it looks like he has entered a staring contest with Fitz. My heart sinks. I give Fitz a vigorous shake.
“Bare your throat to the Alpha!” I snarl.
I could pull his head back and force it, but it would make the gesture meaningless. A forced show of respect is no respect at all.
Something hits Callum right in the face. With horror I realize it’s spit. Fitz has spat in Alpha’s face instead of bearing his throat. I’m so shocked, horrified and outraged, that I’m frozen in place.
Alpha cannot let such a display of disrespect go. Especially not in front of witnesses. I know that much about being a pack leader. Their power has to seem absolute. They can never look weak. An omega from another pack, standing in Alpha’s territory and spitting on him is a challenge to his authority that cannot be ignored.
Callum calmly lifts up a corner of his tee shirt and wipes his face clean, baring his impressive abs in the process. Which is probably part of his calculated move. Remind the tiny omega and everyone observing, of how physically strong he is.
“I guess you will be submitting to me formally tomorrow,” he says smoothly. As if he is far too cool to be ruffled by a mere omega. It’s a good move.
Fitz stiffens in my grip. I tighten my hold on him. He is fucking lucky that Callum is giving him another chance. It’s far more than he deserves.
As my tension eases a little, I notice that everyone is giving me an odd look. I know it’s an usual situation but their gazes say more than that. Then I realize. The car worked like a hot box. The lingering scent of heat and sex is pouring off of us. Far stronger than it should be after the hours that have passed.
Do they think I found him in his heat and decided to drag his belligerent ass home because I like the little shit and I want Alpha’s permission to claim him? What a horrifying thought. And surely it’s very obvious that Fitz is no ordinary omega? No one behaves like he just has.
I told Callum about the murder part in my text but by the looks of it he hasn’t shared that information with anyone else. Great, now everyone thinks I’ve chosen an omega that spits at my Alpha.
“You both look exhausted. Go get some sleep and we will talk once you’re rested,” orders Callum.
My heart sinks. My little fantasy of just getting home and handing Fitz over to my Alpha to deal with, withers and dies. In retrospect it had always been a ridiculous thought. Like Callum would let me shirk responsibility that easily.
I don’t let my disappointment show. Alpha doesn’t need any more displays of disrespect tonight, I mean today, or whatever flipping time it is. So I just nod my understanding and acceptance, and start dragging Fitz to my room. Right now, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone so much.
Chapter five
IdragFitzthroughthe house and up to my room. He only gives token resistance. I think he can sense that I’m at the end of my tether.
I take him straight into my small ensuite. Being second in command does have its perks.
As I close the bathroom door behind us. Fitz stares at me with a bewildered look in his emerald eyes.
“You stink, and I have to sleep next to you, so get in the shower.”
He flinches and I feel bad. The truth is, we both stink. Sex and heat smells cling to us and I hate that my scent is all over him and his all over me. It’s embarrassing. Stark evidence of what we did. Guilt starts to snake through me and I try to ignore it. It tries to insist that the sex wasn’t something that we did together, but something that I did to him. But I’m not going to listen. The whole messy situation began because he tried to murder me. I have nothing to feel bad about.
He is still not undressing, just staring at me with an unfathomable expression. I growl. I’ve been up all night and I can’t be dealing with his defiance. I start ripping his clothes off while he yelps and tries to get away from me. They disintegrate into satisfying tatters on the floor. It doesn’t take long to get him naked.
He is too thin and too pale. The luminous shade of a fair skinned person who never gets any sun. He is also covered in scars. I feel my eyebrows raise at that. It takes a lot to scar a shifter.
He reminds me of an alley cat. All vicious, straggly and thin. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I can’t seem to stop my gaze from roving all over him. From the flat plains of his stomach, to his very pink nipples. It’s a very nice body. Who knew I had a thing for strays? My gaze drifts lower and finds he is covering his cock protectively with both hands. I glance up. He is glaring at me ferociously, but his cheeks are heated pink and his shoulders hunched.
He has human ideas about nudity? I frown. I don’t like that at all. He is a shifter, he should act like one. I’m about to say something to that effect when his neck catches my attention. A band of dark metal encircles it snugly. If it’s a necklace, it’s a fucking ugly one.
“What is that?” I growl.
