Hunting the Renegade Omega Page 6

  Balkazar’s hackles shivered, and for a moment—as his twin’s icy blue eyes held his, and the air crackled with the tension of two Alphas sharing a Canicule—he thought the other would refuse to obey. Thought he’d have to impose his will and assert himself or bloody them both in the effort.

  But with a sulky snap of teeth, the other relented, for between them, it had been Silver’s mark to land first. And it was Silver’s mark that held more weight. So Balkazar dropped to his ass in the heap of leathers, boner waiting and ready. Knot already blown and thick about his base, looking as if his nutsack had climbed his shaft, instead of retreating to that cage in his pelvis.

  “You’re going to mount him, little slut,” Silver growled, fucking her thighs. Making extra sure his knob flicked her bean with each stroke. Pressing against her tail stump with each backstroke. “You’re going to take every inch of that dick. Knot included. And we’re all going to watch.”

  She whined, shaking her head—but Silver didn’t give her the chance to disobey. There’d be time enough to exorcise their wildling’s rebellious nature. Time enough to teach her what it meant to be Omega, no matter that she’d marked him first, for she was Omega. He, an Alpha of the highest order in this pack, and that was a concession he was unwilling to make. For now? His balls begged relief, begged for the freedom to slap against her cunt as he took her from behind. And with that, he unleashed a snarl, shoving her toward Balkazar’s shining prick.

  To her credit, the Omega didn’t hesitate to crawl over him, pert bottom swaying as she scrambled over the leathers in her new nest. Pretty, reddened asshole winking at him as she went. She paused only to lick the drying cum from Balkazar’s pole—but it was a moment too long.

  Balkazar seized her hair, jerking her away from his knob. Swallowing her yelp, he bucked beneath her, bopping her into position with a jerky thrust of his hips and thighs. One hand on the crease where her ass met her thigh, the other buried in that thick, black mane.

  “Sit,” Silver barked, teeth snapping, fist pumping. The thrill that heated his blood when his Omega bitch obeyed sent a drop of precum spurting from his tip. Dangling toward his knee as he worked himself—until he claimed that too, used it to make himself glisten with need.

  And when she reached the top of Balkazar’s knot, Silver knelt behind them. Abandoned his cock and spat on his fingers, applying the make-shift lubricant around the base of his twin’s knot.

  “Take it,” Balkazar growled, seizing her asscheeks with his big hands, knuckles going white as he squeezed and spread her. Trying to force the Omega to take him to the root.

  She’d need help, that much was clear enough to Silver. Even as slippery as she was, she couldn’t take that thick Alpha bulge without also taking damage. So he purred, drawing out a fresh wave of slick that saw her go limp. Relaxing astride Balkazar’s dick. Pussy stretching as it worked to swallow his meaty base.

  And with a soft sigh, she took it all. Slick oozing out around his twin’s knot—a sight that could only be bettered by one thing.

  “Wait,” Silver ordered, stopping Balkazar from plundering her depths with a word. Again, he spat in his palm, spread the lubricant over his glans and knelt between his brother’s spread thighs.

  “I—” the Omega flinched. Jerking out of her purr-induced stupor as she felt his blunt tip kiss her taint. Nudging the space between her full pussy and winking asshole. “I’m not—my ass isn’t ready for two—”

  But Silver had no intention of claiming her ass. Not now, while there was another Alpha capable of seeding her womb. No, instead, he pumped his shaft at her seam. Pressing at her already air-tight cunt, and commanded Balkazar to, “Purr,” for their female. Redoubling that involuntary submission unique to Omegas, and the amount of slick gushing from those puffy lips, he mounted her. Forced her to take it, inch by agonizing inch.

  And still, it wasn’t enough. Not until Silver growled around his purr, and barked at the four others kneeling obediently for their turn. “Purr!” he demanded, hooking his thumbs on her outer lips. Spreading her further. Allowing the slick to run freely over Balkazar’s dick… trickling over the space where his balls should have hung. Pooling between clenching cheeks and leathers.

  Trembling between them, their female uttered not a sound of protest. Could scarcely lift her head under the weight of the two-toned Alpha purr mixed with three Betas and an Omega male.

  When he was seated within her, shaft molding to fit into her depths alongside his twin, Silver paused. Felt Balkazar’s knot recede just enough so they could rut together—as they were meant to do. As they’d always been meant to do.

  To her credit, their Omega did what she could to accommodate them, holding still yet lax as they paused inside her. Her drool smearing Balkazar’s shoulder, her pink little tongue darting out—mindlessly—to lap at the marks on his flesh.

  Slapping her ass, Silver bucked into her depths. His engorged tip pressing at her cervix, demanding entry to a muscle that would not compromise or grant them access to her womb until she’d been well and truly submitted. Only then would her belly bulge with a litter.

  Their litter.

  They couldn’t last long like this, slipping and sliding through the slick, gripped tight in a silken fist that milked and weeped for them. With their packbrothers all around them, it was like the days of long ago. Long forgotten ritual matings witnessed by an entire pack. The days before their species retreated beyond the Krust, driven there by the Trax virus no amount of technology could conquer. Silver reveled in it. With the eyes of his brothers’ on him, black as pitch, Silver was best with an audience. No matter that it was an audience of waving dicks pumping in time with each squelching thrust and each breathy sound their Omega made.

  But when she gasped, and demanded, “More!” he knew he was lost. Knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her whether she wanted kept or not. And so he set his teeth to her right shoulder, squashing her between Alphas. Rutting her like the savage he was.

  Not to be outdone, Balkazar matched his twin before Silver could claim her first. As one, they laid down a claiming mark—and ignited their Omega.

  Wailing in rage and purest lust, she came apart between them. Split. Baring the ownership brand of two Alpha males, she soaked them with slick. Howling and fucking back, until she forced them to spill and begged for more. The bond that was laid down between the three was a thing not done before. That they could share an Omega without tearing each other apart was unheard of. That they allowed the rest of their pack to join without painting the walls of her den with blood and entrails?

  This was something new.

  Silver knew it, even before his pelvis relaxed and his balls began to drop—a match to his twin, though it was Silver’s nuts that sat dominant. Molding and sticking to the other’s sack. He knew it before the lesser packmates approached, dicks engorged and ready to mark her nest with that salty spray.

  But when his Omega bitch lifted her head and beckoned the others closer with a single Omega purr, he knew it wasn’t something that was new.

  It was her.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, licking at her shoulder, gently sluicing through wet folds and rubbing along Balkazar’s dick.

  But to this, she didn’t respond. Merely turned her face toward whichever brother presented for her, and drank deep of their spend.

  It wasn’t until much later—when the nest was seeded and the pack dozed—that Silver realized just how different their Omega bitch really was. For when he pried one lid open, seeing little but a tangle of limbs and exhausted male flesh, she was gone.

  Enraged, he bolted from their den and into the night. Seeing not a trace of his Omega on the cusp of embracing the six true days of the most powerful Canicule he’d ever known, he threw back his head and howled at the moons. She’d be fertile in the coming hours! And if he didn’t find her soon? If they couldn’t drag her back to this nest and plant new life within her womb? Others would. Others without a thought for her safety, who�
��d rut her to death and forget there was an Omega female who’d dared to submit an entire pack beyond the Krust.

  His howl had woken the others, had brought them stumbling into the night, naked down to the man. And as per usual, it was Konjo who found her trail. But it was their slender Omega male—Sickle, Keeper of Balance—who discovered that she had, in fact, left something behind.

  There, painted on the wall above where the pack had slumbered, she’d painted a single word in cum and slick. Shining in the light of their planet’s moons, it read simply: Renegade.

  Don’t miss what happens next in ‘Hunting the Renegade Omega’ Book 2!

  A sneak peek of Chapter 1 is next, and the full book is coming soon!

  A Sneak Peek of Hunting the Renegade Omega (Book 2)

  Renegade had a head start—one she’d bought with her pussy and mouth and every last centimeter of cunning she possessed. Sexual or otherwise. It wasn’t much, considering the size and skill of the men who’d be coming for her, but it was enough to serve her purposes. Enough to see that she would not suffer being kept as their pet. Beholden to them. Caged in the same den night after night, forced to raise their kits and mewl when they wanted to fuck.

  No, why have a few, when she could have many?

  Renegade grinned, dipped cupped hand into the quietly bubbling stream, and cleansed their scent from her skin as best she could. It would do little to mask her trail when they woke and found her gone, but it would go a long way to making her believe she was unattached. Make her forget how badly she’d fucked it all up and that there were now two toothy imprints marking her shoulders.

  “Fucking Alphas,” she grumbled, hackles fluffed up. That they’d wanted to breed her wasn’t their fault. Not really, given just how powerful her Canicule was promising to be this time. But Renegade was hopeful she’d taken enough Alpha seed to last her through the worst of the rut. And if not…

  Well…

  She’d have to carve herself another wooden cock or find an unattached Beta male. One who couldn’t keep her when she grew tired of him.

  Tossing the ends of her mane over her shoulder, Renegade stretched the sex out of her muscles, doing her damnedest to ignore the achy little twinge that begged her to return to that soiled nest of leathers and males.

  An enraged howl shattered the stillness of the night—followed by one, then four more.

  Renegade grinned and bolted into the brush, sprinting flat-out, for the hunt had begun anew. Her pack of six, denied and rejected—again.

  But in her haste… she failed to note the eyes glinting with feral madness through the gloom. Failed to realize her six weren’t the only ones playing this sordid game…

  About the Author

  M.D. Pentacles is fond of speaking in the third person because she feels it's an accurate representation of the fracture in her psyche and the legions who've made themselves comfy up inside her brains. This crack goes deep—Hell deep—but that's okay because M.D. grew up wrangling the darklings and by this point is mostly just tired of their shit, yet happy to give the raunchy darlings a voice. After a brief episode of perception-altering insanity, M.D. realized she had two options: keep the filthy fuckery to herself and risk causing a super massive black hole with the ensuing implosion, or share her slutty demons with those brave enough to join her in embracing the chaos...

  She's chosen the latter and doesn't care about the consequences.

  Make sure to keep up with M.D. and all her other friends at Tentacle Press so you never miss an opportunity to dive into the naughtiest parts of your imagination.

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