Page 130 of Specter Bred

So I waited, studying the slack lines of his face, making sure Sammy was truly asleep before shifting closer. Carefully, I leaned over him and pressed my nose to the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

Clean sweat.

Fresh laundry.

Sun-warmed earth.

Wet grass.

All Hayes.

The tightness in my chest loosened a little at the familiar scent. My mind drifted back to last night, and a small smile tugged at my mouth as I remembered the look on his face.

Wide blue eyes locked on me, full of awe and something dangerously close to worship, as my lips wrapped around his cock, taking him into my throat for the first time.

Boy Scout tried so hard to hold himself together, jaw tight, body strung taut with effort, determined to last longer. I knew he wanted to impress me and prove himself. It was sweet.

Unfortunately for him, his record was still what Graves had called it.

"Pathetic."

Not that I minded. The thought made me huff out a quiet laugh into the crook of his neck.

There was something endearing about the way Hayes always came apart for me so quickly and easily, like his body answered to mine before his mind could catch up. For Sammy, submitting to me came naturally, and despite his best efforts, he was powerless to my will.

Graves was an entirely different story.

Last night had been the first time I'd ever been intimate with someone more dominant than I was. He was infuriating, bossy, demanding and completely convinced the world bent to his will.

I liked that too.

Not because I wanted to surrender, but because every instinct in me wanted to fight him for control. The challenge of it sent sparks racing beneath my skin. Every order he gave made me want to push back, yet some quieter, deeper instinct wanted to see what would happen if I didn't. The contradiction was intoxicating.

Then he'd suggested it.

A dual-lock.

My whole body shivered at the memory.

There were barely enough omegas left to sustain the population. Most alphas formed packs with betas instead, taking them as surrogate bonded partners. Physically, betas weren't all that different from omegas, but they lacked the instincts and biological responses that made locking effortless. An omega's body relaxed into it naturally. A beta's didn't.

That was why mixed-designation relationships required training.

Betas learned breathing techniques, muscle control, and how to consciously relax instead of fighting an anchor or a knot. The more they resisted, the more dangerous the lock became. It wasn't uncommon, and with enough preparation, it was perfectly safe.

Alpha and alpha...

That was different.

Male alphas could manage each other well enough, but female and male alphas had opposite locking mechanisms.

My body anchored by contracting inward, drawing a partner deeper and holding them there through powerful, instinctive muscle contractions.

Graves's body did the opposite.

His knot swelled outward, designed to wedge securely in place and prevent separation.

On their own, each mechanism had evolved to work with an omega.