Page 28 of Shared Omega

We head upstairs, and Dog lifts me over a section where the steps have collapsed with age. His long legs step over the gap with ease.

We find the second floor in much the same condition as the first, and again there are no signs of Alphas, which is good.

We continue moving upward.

The third-story windows are not as thoroughly boarded up, and blue-silver moonlight pokes in through the gaps in the slats. Gossamer thin, moth-bitten curtains belly inward on a draft leaking through.

I flick off the light lest any Alphas see it from outside.

“We can rest up here for the night,” Dog says in a hushed voice.

I nod and scan the floor for a comfortable place to lie down. Sleep sounds good right now, considering how weary I am after the day’s events, but my brain and body are still buzzing with leftover adrenaline, cortisol, and the knowledge that we are stranded deep in the zone.

“Sloane.”

The unexpected touch of Dog’s hand on my shoulder makes me jump.

There is something in his voice, a ragged undertone, that makes my muscle’s tense and shiver. I take a moment to get myself under control before I turn to face him. But as soon as I see him standing there, his engraved muscles striped with moonlight, my composure damn near falls apart.

“Remember what Frostgrave said. This house will help contain your…your scent. But only to an extent. It’s still necessary to…to take care of your needs before you attract more Alphas.” After a brief pause, he adds. “Your scent is strong inside this enclosed space. If you don’t…diminish it soon, it will be hard for me to control my…my urges. I’m afraid I might…harm you.”

His eyes catch a beam of moonlight and gleam like a wolf’s. They are locked on me with hungry intensity.

“What about your conditioning?” I ask.

Dog shakes his head.

“It’s true, my psychological conditioning is designed to ensure that I don’t cause any harm to my comrades. However, it has never been stress-tested quite like this.”

“You mean my…my heat could break your conditioning?”

He stares at me. Although it is dark, I can sense that his body is practically vibrating with constrained tension. When he speaks, his voice is tight and choked.

“I’d rather not find out the hard way, would you?”

I back away.

“No.” My voice is little more than a whisper. Something creaks as the old wood of the house shifts and settles. “I’ll take care of my needs. By myself.”

Dog nods.

“And I will take care of mine.”

He moves off into the shadows at the far end of the room, and I back away into my own dark corner, facing the wall.

Stimulation, Dr. Frostgrave said.

Easy enough, right?

I take a few deep breaths to try and relax, but that only fills my nose with more of Dog’s intense Alpha scent. The smell of him nearly buckles my knees.

Fine. I’ll use that to do what needs to be done.

I turn around briefly to make sure Dog isn’t watching. Striped with moonlight, his back is turned to me as he prepares to take care of his own business.

Good. I face the wall again and get to work.

I slide one hand down between my legs and rub myself through the tight material that remains of my bodysuit. Even through the layer of protective material, my sex is extraordinarily sensitive—almost sore with arousal. I go slowly at first, then I pick up the pace, rubbing myself more firmly as I bite back the embarrassing sounds welling up in my throat.