There was another who said those words to me, and I believed him then. I’m not so stupid these days.

  I close my eyes as he finds my gland and laps at it lazily, wrapping me in his arms and tugging me against his warm body. It is peaceful. The beat of his heart and the far-off rustle of wind through leaves the only sounds. I rise and fall with his breaths and I sink into him.

  And suddenly I don’t want this to end, don’t want to separate from him; the thought causing panic to rise in my chest. But soon the horn will sound. I can see the sky already lightening at the horizon, a faint grey chasing away the darkness, and the dawn’s chorus stirs.

  “I have to go,” I say, thinking it is better to leave now. He doesn’t move. “Alpha, I have to go.”

  He grasps my chin and forces my head around to meet my eyes, locking me with those black eyes. I see a possessiveness in them. Powerful and controlling.

  “Alpha,” I whisper and he growls deep and low in his chest, but he lets me go and I stumble up onto shaking legs and walk away.

  * * *

  Sammy examines me when she thinks I’m unaware. She glances at me from the corners of her eyes, or studies my face as we watch the TV. I’m mostly silent, my mind busy whirring away, trying to process what happened out there in the meadow.

  “Something happened,” she says finally, and I jolt, spinning around to face her with astonished eyes.

  “What?”

  “Something happened. You seem … different … calmer.”

  “I met someone,” I blurt out.

  “Oh.” She looks surprised, but the expression quickly morphs to curiosity. “Who?”

  “An Alpha.”

  Her brows shoot up her forehead. Although I’ve fucked many Alphas, I’ve never dated them. Not since we’ve been friends. I never wanted to be tied to someone again, someone who would just hurt me.

  “What’s his name?”

  I bite my lip and turn my head back to the television. “Heathcliff.”

  She gapes at me.

  The week passes achingly slowly. I’m not as restless as I was — he has calmed the unrelenting need in my gut and I feel full and sedated — but I’m nonetheless needy. I want him again and a week seems an eternity to wait.

  Plus, the voices in my head scratch at me. What if he’s not there this time? What if he’s had me and won’t want me again? What if he chases some other Omega? My days and hours and minutes are endless what ifs and the wait to find out an eternity.

  In the briefing room, Barbie Doll sidles up to me. “Heathcliff, huh?”

  I wonder how she knows and if every other Omega and Alpha knows too.

  “What was he like?” I stare at her, unable to find the words and she tilts her head curiously. “That good. And you’re back for more? Or someone new?”

  “Him,” I mutter, my cheeks colouring.

  “Ahhh,” she says, nodding to herself. “You’re one of those.”

  “One of what?”

  “One of those who thinks she’s found the one. Their bond. Their one-true mate. From time to time we get one. And we never see her or her Alpha again.”

  “One true mate? That’s fairy tales,” I say, as everything around me seems to slow, my heart beat, my breath.

  “Is it?” she answers, holding my gaze. “Then why are we all here?”

  Chapter three

  The Alpha

  The first night after I have the Omega with the rich brown eyes and the scent like Heaven, I sleep better than I have done for years. A deep, bottomless sleep with no interruptions and no dreams. I sleep long and late; my body bone-tired. I gave her everything, more than I have ever given to any other person. This girl I know nothing about. And I am utterly exhausted.

  I expect to wake refreshed, renewed.

  But when I open my eyes the next morning, I know immediately that something has shifted. It is subtle and slight. So small it is almost indiscernible. Yet I feel it right in my core; like the vertebrae in my spine have reordered or the hard-wiring of my brain has rearranged.

  I climb out of bed unsettled and unnerved.

  It is nothing. My imagination.

  The next night I cannot sleep. I lie on my bed with my eyes shut and no sleep will come. I count. Forwards. Then backwards. In my head, I recite old poems, sing old songs. The minutes and then the hours roll past and sleep evades me.

  I growl and slump off the bed, going to make myself warm milk in the early hours of the morning, padding through my empty house to the kitchen. As I nurse my drink, I stare at my reflection in the darkened windows and I try to understand the reason for this restlessness.

  The next night is the same and the next and the next. Four nights pass without sleep and it shows in the darks shadows of my eyes and the creases of my brow.

  I run. I box. I swim. Trying to exhaust my body so my mind can rest. It is no use and again I lie in my large empty bed staring at the ceiling. I twist my head to the right and to the left, examining the expanse of mattress that surrounds me, and I know it is the Omega keeping me awake. She has knocked something out of place inside me and no matter how hard I try to discover and fix it, to identify this piece of me that has gone awry, I cannot.

  Is this what it is like to be haunted? To have someone else’s essence latch to your soul and follow wherever you go? Giving you no peace. Giving my Alpha no peace. For it is him — I know it is him — who refuses to let me sleep.

  I have always been two people. The Alpha and the man. Sometimes we are perfectly blended and aligned, acting and thinking as one. Other times we are at odds and the man has to battle, to subvert, to tame the Alpha lurking hidden inside.

  It was the Alpha I hoped to placate with my trips to The Chase, thinking he would want nothing more than to hunt down Omegas and take them out there under the stars. Rutting and fucking. What he does best. But though he’d driven me there time and time again, he’d shown no interest, turned his nose up and left me feeling a fool. And yet, like a fool, I kept returning. Both of us seeming to believe this place had significance in our destiny.

  And then the Omega appeared and I’d buried my face in her cunt, every taste bud on my tongue drowning in her sex and in her wetness, and it had made my mind buzz, my skin sing, and nerves sizzle. I’d wanted to stretch out time, elongate it with my tongue and my fingers, until it was infinite and never ending and I could lose myself in endless seconds and minutes just breathing her in and touching the softness of her skin.

  No drug has lifted me to such heights.

  I need more.

  * * *

  I can smell her somewhere beyond the wall of the cage, somewhere in the converted base, but even before I’d caught a hint of her scent, I knew she was here. Something in my blood tells me it, something that rustles my senses and has my body primed.

  I’m impatient for it to start, to lay my eyes and my hands on her again.

  She’s so close I can hear the rhythm of her heart. A war beat. A drum. Let the battle start. I am hungry to win and claim my prize.

  The scrape of the door starts and the Alphas around me stiffen, one near me growls low in his throat and another walks up to the bars and glares through. The door takes an age to draw away and then the small huddle of Omegas scuttle in, flushed and wet and smelling like dinner.

  My little Omega hovers at the back just like the last two times and I pull her eyes towards mine. Big wide eyes with pupils that blossom as she finds me until they’re two black discs floating in pure snow. It makes her look possessed, her mouth parted, her shoulders bobbing up and down as if she’s panting. I wonder if I’ve haunted her like she has me, if she’ll let me fuck her again or will flee.

  Tonight she wears a light summer’s dress that falls halfway down her calves and her usual white plimsolls. My eyes trip down one of the spaghetti straps that loops over her shoulder and to her neckline where the hint of her cleavage is visible, and skims along to the opposite strap, then down over the soft rise of her tits to the pinch of her tiny waist and the flare of her hips. I remember what it was like to glide my hands over those soft curves and I’m sure I’m trembling like some addict about to get their fix.

  Shit!

  I bunch my fists, blow through my nose, hold her gaze with mine. A week? Has it really only been a week? It feels like a lifetime ago; her scent more dizzying, her eyes more magical than I remember.

  The sky above us cracks with thunder and the air grows heavy and dense. I raise my eyes upwards to the black and starless night. It’s going to rain. I glance back at that thin little dress.

  The first fat drops start as the Omega’s cage door lifts and they scatter out like frightened rabbits, dashing into one another and tripping over their feet in their desperation to get away.

  What makes them run, I wonder, when they so clearly want to be caught? The same ancient urge that drives me to want to give chase? She looks so delicious when she runs, her dark hair like a silk scarf trailing out behind her, her heels kicking up to her shins and her arse jiggling. But I know it is more than instinct willing me to chase her. It must be a stronger force, because her scent lights a path for me, the molecules so vivid I can almost see them sparkling and shimmering like dust caught in sunlight.

  The door lifts, the Alphas sprint and I step out into the summer rain, raising my chin so the water hits my closed eyelids. And then I run. The grass is slippery and twice I skid, spray hitting my calves and my trainers soon as wet as my t-shirt. The grounds have a smudged look about them as the blacks and greys bleed into one another, and everything is blurred by water.

  I run faster, my senses telling me I’m gaining on her with every step. I pass other Omegas and Alphas, dodging them and shoving them out of my path.

  And then I catch sight of her sprinting towards the tree line, her hair and her dress now sleek to her body. She runs fast. She won’t slow for me. She wants me to earn my catch. And I pick up my feet and pump my arms, my breath fierce through the streaming water.

  As I gain on her, I hear her startled little squeals and see those wide eyes as she peers over her shoulder to find me in the rain. And I worry maybe she won’t want me, that this connection I’m sure is there in the air between us, is just the dazed illusions of a crazy man. My fingers itch on the ends of my hands, desperate to grab the creamy skin of her shoulder. I count the strides until I’m behind her, allowing my eyes to sink through her dress to the outline of her beautiful body.

  And then I’m there, finally right behind her and I reach out and clasp her, the palm of my hands electrified by the sensation of her skin. I slow our pace, bringing us to a stop and we halt. My left arm is wrapped around her shoulders and my right her midriff and I press her body into mine, warm beneath the drenched sundress. We pant in unison, catching our breaths, while her scent swirls into my blood and I get my first hit of her.

  I close my eyes and breathe; the wet grass, the trees, the summer rain and her. Fuck, she is so sweet smelling my teeth ache, and I want to sink my jaw into her flesh and eat her piece by piece by piece.

  She waits patiently, perfectly still, awaiting my command and I slide her damp hair from her neck and chase her scent to the point where it begins — her gland. It quivers and trembles against my lips, burning them with its heat, and, as I lick my tongue over the fine tissue, as fragile as eggshell, I understand.

  “Your heat’s coming.” I say it in wonder and then I repeat it with a growl.

  “Yes,” She swallows, her voice hesitant. “It wasn’t due for another month. I don’t understand why it’s come early. It’s never happened before.”

  A million images race through my mind like watching a film on double speed. This Omega in her nest, writhing and riding, her skin shining with a film of sweat, her eyes crazed, slick coating her thighs, begging me to have her every way imaginable.

  “Come home with me,” I say, unable to keep the plead from my voice. “I’ll see you through your heat.”

  “Oh,” she says, wriggling free from my embrace before I can snatch her. She creates space between us and her eyes are even bigger when she stares up at me, two full moons in her pretty face. “I … it’s …”

  “You have someone else lined up.”

  Her eyebrows leap up her brow at my fierce tone.

  “No,” she squeaks and I step cautiously towards her, not wanting to spook her, not wanting an electric zap, but determined to make her see she has no choice in the matter.

  She is mine.

  Yes, mine.

  In that moment, I realise I’ve known this since her bright eyes locked with mine. I realise I’ve been searching for her all this time.

  This is fate. Destiny. I am certain of it. Her heat arriving for me, confirmation of it.

  I laugh, a crazed mad sound, and she stares at me with alarm. Can I blame her? I feel crazed. I feel mad.

  I am not a believer in these things. Yet she has made me one.

  “Then you’ll spend it with me, my Omega,” I tell her firmly, taking another step. She takes a matching step back as if we are dancing, her eyes brimming with alarm.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  I can see the pink circle of her nipples beneath her translucent dress and the tremble of her arms.

  I pace forward again. There’s a chestnut tree looming behind her and I mean to trap her against it.

  “It’s a very good idea,” I say, closing the air between us. She hits the trunk with an ‘oomff’, her head knocking forward, and she grapples at the bark with her hands.

  “It’s against the rules and—”

  I pin her between me and the tree, caging her with a hand on either side of her head. I’ve caught her now, my mate, just like the ancient Alphas. Just like the tales and fables.

  She’s mesmerised by my eyes, I can see how they draw her in, and my mouth too, her gaze flicking between the two, warring for her attention.

  I run my tongue over the sharp edges of my teeth. She watches and we are both thinking how easy it would be for me to sink these teeth into her gland.

  “Our Alpha and Omega have brought us together. We can not fight their will. Not on this. The forces are too strong,” I say, stroking back wet locks of hair from her face and tracing my fingers down the curve of her cheeks to the pink of her mouth and under her chin. My other hand finds the skirt of her dress and draws it up until finally my fingertips find skin, the tender skin of her thigh. She sighs and closes her eyes and her scent bursts into colour in the night.

  “I don’t even know your name,” she mumbles as I nibble her neck, my hand on the inside of her thigh now where her skin is at its softest.

  “It’s Alpha, little Omega.” I whisper it against her ear.

  She moans as my fingers reach the gusset of her underwear and trace her through the thin material. She can’t fight this, she can’t. Her hands find my upper arms and she grips onto me, melting into sensation, giving way to her Omega.

  “You know I’m right,” I say, sliding my finger under the fabric and into her wet folds. She falls a little into me as I reach up inside her. The feel of her on my fingertips is warm and so infinitely soft. If there were a Heaven, this would be it. Against her front wall is the engorged spot I know will drive her wild and I stroke at it as my mouth trails down to the neck of her dress.

  “You’re talking as if …” she says with her eyes shut, her voice all breath. “This is just a game.”

  I pull my finger away and she whimpers, her nails digging into my skin as I straighten to stare down at her. “No, this is real, Omega.” I squeeze her breast through her dress, capturing her hardening nipple between my finger and thumb and tweaking it. “Does that feel real?”

  “Hmmmm.” She bites her lip and her small hands find the hem of my t-shirt, her fingers pattering up the plane of my stomach.

  I want to take this slow, like I did before, savour every moment with her, wallow in every touch, but I am too desperate and I can’t hold myself back, even though I know my actions could just as easily drive her away as reel her in.

  “Does that feel real, little Omega?” I say, pressing into her so she knows how hard I am for her.

  Her hand drops to cup me and a growl escapes my throat at the sensation of her fingers curling around me. I yank up her skirt and she pulls me free. Yes, I’m going to show her just how real this is.

  I grip the top of her thighs and lift her against the tree and she wraps her legs around my waist, wriggling against me, keen to get started. I take a big gulp of her scent and thrust my way inside.

  “How can this be anything but real?” I say as her eyelids open and those eyes find mine. They tell me everything I need to know, as if I can reach right inside her mind and read her very thoughts.

  I start the long slide out, almost reluctant to do it but unable to resist the delicious friction our bodies create and the way it lights a fire between us. A moan drags from her mouth as I brush against that spot and I pause, only my tip in her entrance, teasing her until she’s wriggling in my arms, needing movement, and then I drive into her again, this time with more force and more power, and more delightful noises fall from her lips. She is like a finely crafted instrument with endless ways to play, creating melodies of my choosing.

  I continue my slow steady pace, holding back, fighting myself. She grips my shoulders, taking every violent thrust like a good little Omega. I watch her face; the tremble of her lips, the flutter of her eyelids, the flicker of her tongue. I am gradually gradually undoing her, unwinding her, piece by piece. Her body shakes and quivers and her cunt clenches around me and I can no longer hold back. I want to destroy her completely, growling and thrusting into her hard and fast, pounding her against the tree until she has no breath and her little hands struggle to grip me. When it happens, something passes over her face that is so beautiful my own breath lodges in my throat.

  I wonder how an Omega so perfect has never been claimed, how it is possible that she is here in my arms, how fate could possibly reward me with something as perfect as she. I can’t let her go. Something stronger than ourselves has brought us together. I know it and I feel it as I pour myself into her, utterly destroyed myself.

 

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