Page 5 of Desperate Omega

It is a voice that has been growing louder and louder since my heat started this morning. I ignore it and begin to stroke the tool in and out of my dripping hole, but the voice is persistent.

We don’t need lifeless tools, it says. We need an alpha, hard and hot and alive.

“Shut up,” I whisper and continue thrusting the tool in and out between my legs.

I thrust…

And thrust…

And thrust…

But nothing happens. It’s not working.

Stop deluding yourself, Syra, the little voice whispers. We can’t do this on our own. We need an alpha to cure this heat. Need his knot. Need his seed. Need his domination.

“Shut UP!”

There are tears in my eyes as I sit up and fling the useless tool across the barn.

Trembling, I crawl back to the satchel and pull out a different tool, one closer in size to the true alpha’s member. The girth of it makes my core clench in fear, but I know this is what I need.

Fool! It is NOT what you need. You need an alpha—an ALPHA!

I lie down again and bring the larger tool down between my legs, wondering how the hell I’m even going to fit the damn thing inside me. I work the tip of it against my folds, coating the surface with my slick. With tears rolling down my temples, I prepare to push.

Instead, I freeze—and listen.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the soft hiss of the burning candle. Then I hear it. The faint sound of footsteps moving across the clearing outside.

I am not alone.

CHAPTER 2: SYRA

I bolt up and grab my spear from against the wall. Then I crouch and blow out the candle. Whoever’s outside will see that, and they’ll know that I know they’re here, but I’ll take darkness over the element of surprise.

There’s no time to think about my clothes.

Outside, the footsteps are growing closer, and now I can tell there is more than one person. There are three of them out there.

No, four.

There are two big doors on both ends of the barn. I put my body in a sideways position, so I’m ready to face whichever door opens first. My fingers tighten around the haft of my spear.

The footsteps stop. The night grows still. The air inside the barn smells of candle smoke and melted wax.

A drop of slick slithers down my leg.

With a splintering crash, the door to my left bursts open, and a massive, dark form hurls toward me through the darkness.

My hunter’s instincts take over. I aim the tip of my spear in the direction of my attacker and brace.

The impact throws me off my feet. Darkness whirls around me. The ground seems to fly up and slam into my back, pushing all the air from my lungs.

A pained howl fills the barn.

Before I have a chance to regain my footing, the other door explodes open, and two more figures come snarling in from the other side. Powerful hands grab me and slam my body hard against the wall of the barn. Then they slam me back down to the ground.

“Omega,” says a guttural voice.