Blood flows south, my cock twitching in my jeans. Augie’s pack bond perks up with calming energy and I blink, my gaze that had gone hazy with inappropriate thoughts snapping back into focus. Iris hasn’t moved from her spot, her hand still locked in Wilder’s grip. Her lips are parted slightly and Wilder’s pupils no longer look like himself. They’re completely dark, no hazel left. There’s an intensity to them that nearly frightens me.
This is not good. First I nearly lose it to rage over a small bruise and now our always strong and level-headed Alpha is on the verge of rut? He thought that’s what was happening to me, but no, Wilder is about to lose it.
Mateo appears next to our Prime with Augie, and my eyes meet their fearful ones. The crew around has stopped what they’re doing and I swear you could hear a pin drop in this place. Thank fuck for NDAs and loyal crew because I have no doubt the weird shit that’s been happening on this set today would be in the tabloids first thing tomorrow.
Omega, my Alpha growls.Keep safe.
Okay…well, that’s not fucking good.
“Compa,” Mateo speaks calmly. “Can you let go of Iris’s hand?”
Wilder’s low rumbling warning is his answer. He tugs Iris forward and she goes easily, her focus not leaving him. I observe her carefully, ready to yank her out of his grip if needed. But she doesn’t appear afraid, her muscles loose and features relaxed.
“Omega,” Wilder claims. His voice is lower than normal, his rough tone harsh and demanding.
“I am,” Iris responds. Her voice isn’t shaky, but at the same time I can tell it’s not fully her—her Omega is speaking to her Alpha.
My heart rate speeds up and I look over to my packmates who are watching the exchange the same as I am. With shock, awe, but also worry.
Wilder tugs Iris the rest of the way into him, the action colliding her against his barreled chest. Fear lances through my gut as he dips his head to the smooth, unmarked column of her throat.
Despite being so close to them, there’s no way we could stop him if he chose to sink his teeth into her. It wouldn’t be an official mating bond since she has to be knotted and bite him back, but it would be a pack bond nonetheless and tie her to us without her consent. But thank the gods, he only drags hisnose over her scent gland and inhales, his minty pheromones thickening around us.
“Jett,” Mateo speaks softly.
I don’t tear my gaze away from Wilder and Iris, but I hear Augie telling everyone we’re wrapped for today and to leave.
“If he goes into rut, I’ll get Iris out of here and you and Augie will stay here with Wilder,” Mateo adds.
I know that’s the best solution, even if my Alpha disagrees. Something else is happening here besides Wilder on the verge of rut, but I don’t know what it is. We still haven’t been able to scent her, and with the dose of rut blockers and the control Wilder normally has, this should not be happening.
Unless…
I don’t have time to finish my thought, because the sweetest and neediest whine echoes through the set, followed by a pheromone cloud of saccharine strawberries. My brain short circuits as our Omega perfumes, burning through her de-scenters, and solidifying everything we already knew.
“Shit!” I hear Augie say through the haze of ripe-smelling fruit filling my senses. He’s standing next to Mateo again, holding his mate’s arm who’s visibly reacting to her perfect scent, eyes wide and nostrils flared. My Alpha claws at my chest and mind, demanding me to cage Iris in with Wilder whose face is buried in her neck, inhaling her like a drug. Her hands are threaded in his hair, her nose pressed into his neck as well.
My own lemon pheromones burst out of me, mingling with hers and mixing with Mateo’s honey, Wilder’s peppermint, and Augie’s mild basil. The perfect cocktail that I want our Omega to drink down.
There’s no doubt about it; Iris Walker is our scent-matched Omega. Our mate.
My cock is rock hard and another whine curls through the air, this time with a pleading need. One only an Alpha can fill.
A purr builds in my chest along with my Alpha packmates, and another burst of bright strawberry perfume permeates theair alongside syrupy sweet arousal that can only mean she’s producing slick.
“!Maldita sea!” Mateo groans. “She’s in heat.”
Chapter eight
Iris
Notgood.Thisisnot good.
It’s great!My Omega preens as Wilder licks the column of my throat. Yes, licks. Slick gushes out of me, and there’s no doubt in my mind my wardrobe is soaked. I’m lightheaded and I keep going in and out of being in control.
My Omega wants to run this show now. She’s tired of being the understudy, waiting in the background to take the mainstage.
“Iris,” a concerned yet soothing voice says near my ear. “Can you let go of Wilder?”
