Crowning the Renegade Omega WIDE Read online

  Renegade dropped to the floor with a hiss. Hackles raised, teeth bared. “Now I cannot do a thing as simple as bathe without your almighty fucking permission?”

  Giaus, it seemed, was not in the mood to coddle. “Obedience, woman,” he hissed, and it was only then that she really noticed. Saw the way his pupils had contracted to tiny pricks almost entirely swallowed by the black.

  “What is it?” she asked, going cold and still for a reason she couldn’t quite identify.

  “Excessive heat is bad for the kits,” he snarled, though his gaze had abandoned her even before he’d started speaking. Had gone to the front entrance of their den, tail bristling and raised high in defiance of a threat she couldn’t see and didn’t perceive.

  Silence blanketed the trio as Renegade’s palm flew to a flat belly. Shocked speechless, though some quiet part of her had known. Had recognized her symptoms for what they were, even without the information being thrown in her face in the most callous possible way.

  But that she was pregnant wasn’t the most pressing issue, apparently. And neither was the development of the uncounted fetuses taking root in her womb.

  It was whatever had her massive, terrifying mate on the defensive. Bristling with territorial rage that warned any gender within a hundred feet not to cross the Feral Alpha, King of the beyond.

  For what could possibly make his hackles go flat with the unmistakable stench of fear?

  Chapter 5

  “What is it?” Renegade asked again, tipping her head back to catch the wind, though there was nothing that sent ice through her veins. Nothing but the stink of her males, and nothing at all that might turn her spine to water, as it had Giaus’. “What has you so wound up, my Alpha?”

  Giaus chuffed, making her knees wobble and her pussy tingle with the threat of forced submission. But still, he did not speak. Didn’t even bother to grace her with a glance or reassuring touch.

  Renegade bared her teeth. Clawed at the infernal itching at the base of her tail, then caught his tail in the heart of her palm. Letting her claws sink into the luxurious fur to find the meat beneath.

  Startled, he roared and whirled to face her. Backhand poised for the strike. Hackles fluffing up in preparation for instinctive assault; Sickle dove between them with a dainty cry of his own, sending both Omegas tumbling to the dirt at Giaus’ feet.

  Clawing at the Omega male, Renegade fought to recover her feet. Snarling at her bruised pride when Giaus dared to laugh. “Impossible woman! You should know better than that. I’ve killed men for less, and without meaning to.”

  “And you,” she hissed, trying to push Sickle off her, and failing, “should know striking your pregnant mate is the best way to earn a swift death with a slashed throat!”

  Giaus knelt, peeling them apart, no matter the snap of Sickle’s teeth or Renegade’s flashing claws. “Peace, boy. She caught me unaware. It is never my intention to strike her.”

  “And why is that?” Renegade snapped, shaking out her mane once she had her feet. “What has you so distracted, oh King in the beyond?”

  For a moment, Giaus’ attention returned to the entrance of the nesting cave, and Renegade thought she’d have to start screaming to be heard. But then, simply, “Ferine.”

  She licked her lips, made a brief instant of eye contact with Sickle, then said, “How do you know? I cannot scent them. And yours is not a powerful nose.”

  Despite his flattened hackles, Giaus snorted. “I have spent too long killing the hopeless lost not to recognize the scent of putrid rot on the wind. However faint.”

  Frowning, Sickle went to the end of their leash—further than Renegade herself was allowed—and tipped his head back. “It’s faint,” he said at length. “But I can smell them too.” The slender male frowned, scratching at his naked hip and shivering against a chilled evening breeze. “Are we not prepared, Alpha? Surely they cannot scale our walls?”

  Lifting one burly, massive shoulder, Giaus shrugged. “They are little more than beasts. Driven by the most basic urges. Eat. Hunt. Fuck. But they pursue those urges with self-destructive madness. Twice, I’ve seen a simple Omega female claw through a pack looking to satisfy her Canicule. Eating what could no longer fill her corrupted cunt. Fucking what remained.” Giaus wound his fingers through Renegade’s thick mane. Petting her fur back from her face with distracted, restless fingers. “Our walls are what endanger us.”

  Sickle’s frown deepened. “Alpha?”

  Giaus exhaled a noisy breath above her head. Pulling her back flat to his chest. “Your pack was anonymous as roving nomads, for without the ability to reason, the Ferine attack only what they can catch. And only then, what they can catch easily.” He paused, then. Glancing pointedly at Renegade’s belly before saying, “I’ve come across Ferine eating their young too many times to count.”

  It was Renegade’s turn to shrug, though her stomach churned in spite of herself. “There are few things more vulnerable than suckling kits, I suppose. But”— she tilted her chin, allowing Giaus’ fingers to knead at her shoulders—“surely we need only wait them out? Defend our fortress until they die out.”

  “Fucking is not the only way they breed,” Giaus rumbled. “They infect all unfortunates rejected by the citadel sooner or later. And so their numbers swell. The rot spreads.”

  Silence reigned between the three for a time. Each lost to gruesome thoughts. Thoughts of hapless criminals caught by ancient viruses. And babies making easy meals.

  Renegade was the first to shake it off. “You intend to recruit others. Infect them with your strain, first.”

  Licking his lips, Giaus’ fearful melancholy was broken at last. “So clever, my mate. What else?”

  Gaze flicking over the Betas as they worked to reinforce the walls of their new compound, Renegade began to think like a Queen. “The citadel will supply the bulk of our army. You will make them stronger. Faster. Bigger. And immune to the Trax of old. And then,” she said, turning a new appreciation on her Feral mate, “we will storm the gates with an army already drunk on the hatred of that shining city. They’re doing our work for us.”

  Purring against her cheek, Giaus grinned. Cock thickening behind his leathers, tail lashing. “More.”

  “And I,” she said, hands dropping to the cradle between her hips, “will bring the first pure bloods of your line into this world. This Feral Kingdom.”

  Before either of them could continue—or before she could make use of the swollen bulge pressing against her lower back—a cry of alarm went through the Betas.

  Chapter 6

  Giaus went stiff, then thrust Renegade and Sickle behind him. Telling Sickle to, “Protect my mate with your life.” Leaving the threat unspoken, yet heavy in the still morning air.

  The Omega male nodded, eyes massive and luminous in his slender face. “Yes, my Alpha.”

  Giaus watched long enough to see Sickle force Renegade into the nest. Chaining her to the ring that kept her in the den, Sickle gathered a rough hewn bow, nocked an arrow, then slipped into the shadows. The only visible feature the subtle glow of Feral eyes…

  Snarling his approval low in his throat, Giaus turned, charging toward his Betas. Barking orders that were followed without so much as a second of hesitation. And when he caught a glimpse of his shadow—hackles bristling with tension, tail standing high and proud—he understood why. The Betas might be born and bred warriors, but they couldn’t compare to the strength and natural build of an Alpha.

  Especially not one of Giaus’ caliber.

  Confidence returning in full force, the Feral Alpha cracked his neck. Left, then right. Standing behind a wall of Beta strength, his precious Omegas tucked safely in their nest, Giaus nodded and gave the order to open the gates. The Ferine would choose the simplest path to their goals. To eat what they couldn’t fuck, they’d charge into an obvious trap without a scant wisp of forethought, frothing at the mouth while they did it.

  Giaus himself had b
een tested too many times to count. He was ready, but it was his pack who needed the experience. The lesson.

  For a moment, there was no movement on the other side of the wooden gate. Nothing but the deep quiet of a forest infested with intruders of the predatory sort. And then, moving with the easy grace of those who yet retained their minds, two figures emerged from the gloom. Though they stank of fetid rot, they were not the hopeless lost.

  They were pack.

  His.

  Silver and Balkazar roared a wordless greeting, lifting a grotesque thing between them. The mutated, severed head of a Ferine. The lips had gone thin and bloodless where they weren’t split and torn over broken teeth and one shattered tusk. One eyeball hung on a loose, overstretched thread, dangling and swaying a jaunty rhythm. Drawing Giaus’ gaze to the blackened bone growths marking high cheekbones, and the bumpy ridges lining a thick brow.

  Infected not long before its true death, this one. Not half the mutants Giaus had battled himself, but an impressive kill, nonetheless.

  Jovial, and covered in blood, the two lesser Alphas were received with all the bluster of warriors returned from battle, for it was indeed battle they’d seen.

  Skin imprinted with deep, nasty lacerations that would no doubt match the maw of the severed head they held between them, the twins grinned at their Alpha. Dropping to their knees in the dirt, together. Heads bowed to reveal their claiming marks. Yielding to their King without a hint of shame or anger.

  It was Silver—who had been submitted with the hard length of Giaus’ bloated prick—who spoke first. “We return, my Alpha. And we’ve brought gifts for the Queen.” He dropped the monstrous prize at Giaus’ feet, hands splayed. Unspeakable grime crusted beneath his fingernails and embedded in his cuticles. “A Ferine Alpha, for our mighty Alpha and our fertile Queen.”

  Lip curled, Giaus chuffed. Knowing what they’d bought with this kill. That he’d have to relinquish his grip on Renegade’s sweet cunt, or risk the loss of their loyalty. But it was only for a moment, and their prize wasn’t quite what they thought it was. “A job well done,” Giaus said, letting them rise. Going so far as to offer a friendly clap on wounded shoulders. “But not, I’m afraid, an Alpha.”

  Balkazar chuckled, struggling to stand in spite of his many injuries. His torn and ragged flesh. “It was a ferocious beast, Alpha. A mighty warrior such as he could not have been a mere Beta.”

  Turning, Giaus led them to the bathing pool. Knowing how his precious Renegade would react to the sight of such filth in her den. “Quite right,” Giaus rumbled, tail flicking in lazy swipes that should have warned of the dangerous mood he found himself in. “It was an Omega.”

  Chapter 7

  Shocked, slack faces met his proclamation. Not just those of the Alphas, but from the Betas, as well.

  “That’s not possible,” Silver said, turning his gaze to the deformity he lifted by the scalp, pulling it from the dirt with a single discerning eye. “The beast outweighed us by at least thrice. Nearly killed us both, half a dozen times, if it wasn’t twice that number! And you say it was Omega? How in the nine realms—”

  “The Trax causes mutations of flesh and bone,” Giaus said, hands spread to gesture at his own impressive, too-big frame. “Have you ever seen an Alpha such as me? One with my height? My strength? Have you not noticed an increase in your own strength, since waking from the killing fever?”

  Balkazar swallowed, nodding as Silver said, “It was only that unnatural strength which allowed us to kill this so-called Omega.”

  “The mutation is a much more rapid experience for the Ferine, I can assure you,” Giaus said, plucking the severed head for closer inspection. “Unsustainable. But you can see the mark of the Omega just here”—he pointed, showing them the slender tusks. The almost dainty brow ridges. Explaining, “An infected Beta forms bone plates covering the vitals, here, and here,” he said, tapping Silver’s throat, nape, and kidneys. “For they are warriors, through and through. But an Alpha?” he purred, showing teeth. “An Alpha bears the deformations of all the castes. They’re so heavily altered that standing upright becomes impossible. But that,” he said, “doesn’t stop them from fighting. If anything, it makes them more deadly. Gives them the advantage of four limbs and protected belly.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’ve never managed to kill one.”

  “Yet,” Silver said, teeth flashing. Hackles rising with blood lust.

  “Yet,” Giaus agreed. Sharing a rare moment of camaraderie with the other male who might one day challenge for his throne. But Giaus sighed, knowing it would be best to reward his pack sooner than later—for all of them. “Come. The Queen will be most impressed by this gift, I’m sure. And her temper is hot enough to handle Alphas drunk on battle. But first, a bath, or the Ferine won’t be the most deadly thing you face this day.”

  The other Alphas purred, leather pant fronts bulging with eager anticipation of so sweet a reward, but it was Balkazar who stopped them. Balkazar who said, “Nay, Alpha. We bring so much more than a rotted head for the Queen.”

  And with that, he turned. Leaving the rest behind with ratty tail standing high and proud, the third ranked Alpha left the safety of the compound and her walls formed of tree trunks. Making mollifying, dainty sounds as he eased into the gloom. Cooing at something in the shadows. Voice too low to be heard over the crunching underbrush.

  Giaus took a step, a snarl primed and ready to fly from his throat, for the Feral Alpha hated few things so much as he hated surprises.

  Silver caught his elbow. Shook his head. Silently asking for patience.

  Brow furrowed, Giaus allowed them that much. Gave, when he wanted to take, though his prick swelled and his thoughts went to the chained female who couldn’t refuse his orders. Needing to assert dominance and reclaim his position atop the others. Hell fires, he even eyed Silver with a lecherous gleam. Recalling what it was to sate himself in that tightly clenched, unwilling ass.

  Balkazar returned before thoughts could manifest, and it was with a tiny scrap of matted fur and wildling filth clinging to his leathers. A female.

  A child.

  Forcing his lust aside, Giaus dropped to his knees. Purring low and deep, his hackles flattened as he extended his knuckles. Finding that he too, could coo and placate. That he could also forget the stink of other males in battle rut and indulge this plainly terrified child. “Come, fierce thing,” he murmured, voice as soft and tame as he could make it. “Let us feed and warm you. We have females to purr for you. Mother’s milk and fresh meat. You are safe here, child. I swear it on the moons.”

  For a moment, she clung to Balkazar with white knuckles and bared teeth. Hissed and spat at the Alpha who muddied his knees in her honor. But there were few things that could soothe more efficiently than a ruling Alpha’s purr, and though this child was too young to know her caste, she was no match for the command Giaus layered into his voice.

  Extending one trembling hand, she relented, selecting the first knuckle of his index finger. Wrapped her tiny fingers around it, and took a single step clear of the safety of Balkazar’s shadow. A ragged little purr answering Giaus’ deep rumble.

  And then, moving swift enough to speak of just how she’d survived in the beyond without adults to protect her, the child flung her arms around Giaus’ neck. Trying to wriggle under the collar of his shirt, for all that she stank of terror and urine.

  Cradling her to his chest, he stood, and her bushy brown tail coiled around his wrist. Wrapping his heart in her tiny, wild fist.

  “You’ve done well,” Giaus said, keeping the child in his arms. Still purring, he didn’t bother to look at his pack when he commanded the Betas to, “Go. Fetch Sickle. Bathe,” he added, Feral eyes flicking toward Silver and Balkazar. “And see if Renegade will have you. But you have my thanks, brothers. Truly.”

  Chapter 8

  Touched by protective instincts he thought he’d never experience, Silver brushed the child’s forehead
with the back of one bloody, grimy knuckle. Loosing a—of all things—fatherly purr of his own before turning to do as he was bade. Balkazar at his side. And when they approached the nesting den, his attention wasn’t for the precious Queen he’d risked life and limb to mount once again, but her male counterpart.

  “Sickle,” he called, pausing at the threshold of their den. Leery of entering that sacred space while in his filthy, battle-worn state, for though it had been quite some time, Silver still remembered what it had been like when his mother had been overcome by the urge to nest. To keep her nesting-pit just so in preparation for the arrival of his siblings. When Renegade succumbed? He shuddered.

  Sickle appeared from the shadows, slinging a bow over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  Ignoring the other’s lazy, too-casual answer, Silver said, “You are needed, Omega. Balkazar and I brought you another broodling to tend. A gift, for the Queen.”

  “I want nothing of your gifts!” Renegade howled. “Unchain me!”

  From the den’s entrance, Silver caught a hint of their wild Queen trying to wrench her chains straight from the stone to which they’d been fixed. Ripe with tension and desperate for a fight.

  Perfection.

  Tearing free of his leathers without conscious thought, Silver freed dribbling prick, turned, and splashed into the heated bathing pool. Submerging his torn, aching flesh and ignoring the sting, even when Sickle cleared his throat.

  “Be gentle with her,” Sickle said, voice deadly soft. Thumb caressing the point of an arrow still clutched in his fingers with down-right murderous intent.

  Silver’s lip curled, and watching the Omega without blinking, he rose to the challenge glimmering in the Omega’s eyes. And then, balls drawing in tight, Silver began to work his cock beneath the surface of the water. Thinking of all the ways he could punish his Omega male who dared to speak to him with such blatant disrespect. Unblinking.