Taming the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 6

  “What of the other?” Balkazar asked, leading them from the nesting pit. Into the small, yet tidy clearing where Renegade’s gift awaited. Bound, gagged, and crying piteously at Balkazar’s approach.

  Grinning, Giaus licked his lips. “A Queen needs her handmaiden.”

  Chapter 15

  When she was finally permitted to leave the nesting pit, it was to find her secluded little clearing utterly transformed. Gone were the familiar copse of trees. Replaced by fifteen foot walls and sharp pikes. A gate to keep the wilderness out and to keep her in. Under the guise of protection, or whatever nonsense Giaus was selling today. Where there had once been a modest fire pit, now sat an open-wall long house, lined with curing meats, roasting vegetables being prepared for the coming winter, and sacks of grain stored in heavy boxes.

  Where Giaus had gotten these things, Renegade simply couldn’t say. Couldn’t even begin to understand, for her timeline had been fractured by sharing Sickle’s heat. She’d thought she’d only lost seven days… but… how could so much be accomplished by so few in a week? Surely she’d been lost for longer than that, given the magnitude of the changes Giaus had wrought.

  Unless he’d found an army of males to assist and wooed them with promises he’d force her to fulfill.

  Tipping her head back, Renegade inhaled the scents of the camp. Finding no new males amongst her pack, though… there was something… else.

  Someone else.

  Female.

  Snarling, Renegade flew from the cave entrance, dragging a startled Sickle along for the ride. Chains tinkling in her wake, she followed her nose. Taking advantage of a sense that was made more after the Trax had had its way. She was led to a tiny, ragged shed absent windows or simple comforts. Locked from the outside. And without pausing to think or consider the consequences, she charged at full speed and drove her foot straight through wood that was made flimsy before her wrath. Kicking the door down with little more than fury to guide her.

  She knew what they’d done. Even before she saw the pathetic thing cowering on the dirt floor, she knew.

  Semen spattered every square inch of the filthy pit of despair. Saturated the fragile female who was crying into her knees, but Renegade didn’t stop to do more than inhale a breath of pure, instinctive rage before she had the woman around the shoulders.

  Taking her head, guiding it to her shoulder, Renegade did a thing she’d never thought to do before.

  She offered comfort. Purred and shushed and cooed until her voice grew hoarse. Building Giaus’ death in her mind as she offered the countenance of a soothing matron. Remembering each and every one of their scents—how much each of her males had left their mark, and how often—for she would repay them for their crimes.

  This woman was not Omega. Was not taken by the fires of Canicule and had not been prepared to deal with the burden of pack males while Renegade herself had been subject to Giaus’ sickness. His evil games and devious plans.

  Renegade’s chest vibrated with ire, silencing the battered woman trembling at her breasts. Making her cringe and shake. “Shush,” Renegade cooed, winding fingers through a mane gone crunchy with dried fluids. “Shush now. I claim you, pretty Beta. They will pay for this. I swear that. They will pay.”

  The woman shook her head. Flinging tears across Renegade’s nose as she did so. Unable to speak in words that weren’t corrupted by anguish, yet making perfect sense to the wildling Queen either way.

  “Shall I turn them inside out for you? Make you a coat of skins to warn other males away?”

  Despite it all, the woman laughed. Snorting a bubble of snot and dark humor into Renegade’s bare skin. Offering a tiny, fragile nod that was stained by sorrow.

  “Tell me your name so I can carve it into their hides.”

  “Camille,” she rasped, voice ragged, as if she’d been forced to swallow something blunt and eager and far, far too big. Because, of course she had.

  “Well, Camille,” Renegade returned, brushing at the tracks of dirt and heartbreak, “how would you like to see an Alpha beg?”

  “Miss,” Sickle began, making Camille flinch.

  Thunder burst from Renegade’s chest. From some previously unknown place of simmering rage, woken by the Trax. Fed a diet of injustice and hatred, Renegade let it out. Exploding on her Sickle with a vengeance she hadn’t quite intended to vent. Not on him, the only male whose jizz wasn’t saturating this tiny room.

  But still, she howled. Lashing out until Sickle dropped to the saturated earth and gave up his belly. Panting. Ratty new tail tucked between his legs. Pleading for mercy though she had yet to dispense justice.

  Appeased by the submission, Renegade helped Camille to her feet, then turned. Following her nose to the male who had the nerve to call her mate, she guided the storm. Barely containing the tempest clenched tight between her ribs.

  She found him at the perimeter of their new gate. Speaking with the other two Alphas and one of the Betas—a male whose name she couldn’t be bothered to remember in that moment.

  “Giaus!” she snarled, making his spine stiffen, but nothing else.

  The biggest male had the gall to finish his sentence, clapping a friendly hand on first Silver’s shoulder—then Balkazar’s—before dismissing them both. Sending them to flee before her wrath.

  But she was Queen here, and Renegade would have none of that. “Not another fucking step,” she hissed, planting one dainty hand in the middle of Silver’s chest.

  Eyes going wide, the Alpha twins stilled.

  “You’re in fine form today, my fiery female,” Giaus rumbled. Feral eyes gleaming as he admired her nudity. As her two fragile followers hid in her wake; Sickle panting and shivering, Camille with a stream of urine splashing the earth. Steaming around slender, filthy ankles. Piss that stank of terror and abuse.

  “I claim this woman,” Renegade breathed, unflinching though her males could inflict damage with little more than a stray thought. “And any other female found beyond the Krust, in my kingdom, is mine. No male shall touch what I have claimed, do you understand me?”

  Giaus licked his lips, purring. Tail flicking. “What is she to you?” he said at length. A poorly hidden smirk tugging at the edges of his lip.

  “Mine,” Renegade hissed, hackles going flat in preparation for battle. Spittle flying.

  Laughter spilled from Giaus’ lips, his chest rumbling with deep, healthy waves of amusement. “Peace, sweet Renegade. She’s yours. My gift to you,” he added, and took a step toward her.

  But Renegade was far from finished. “Do all of your gifts arrive soaked to the bone with your cum?”

  Spreading his hands, Giaus denied his mate, saying, “I have not touched her.”

  “You haven’t touched her? Look at her!” Renegade bellowed, making Sickle cry out.

  Giaus seemed to live and breathe to do nothing but ignite her temper. Purring deeper when her fire was lit. “Taste her again,” he returned, stooping to meet her eye on her level. “There is only one pussy for me, precious mate.”

  Trembling, sick with it, Renegade turned her head. Glancing at the other woman.

  “Ask her,” Giaus purred, filling her space now. “There is not a drop of Alpha sperm on her, Renegade. Not a drop.”

  Spluttering, Renegade surprised them all by laughing. “Do you think that appeases me? Do you think I will believe the woman you tormented while she stands before her abusers? Still dripping with it.” Stalking forward, Renegade dropped to one knee before the Beta female. Inhaling. Indeed, scenting nothing but the pack Betas, though they were there in insulting abundance. But there was something else too, something beneath the distinct flavors of Micha, Konjo, and Keever.

  Milk.

  And just like that, Renegade peeked behind the mask her Feral mate insisted on wearing.

  Chapter 16

  Inhaling her snarl, Renegade held her silence. Mind racing.

  That her mate had brought her a nursemaid
said two things very, very clearly; he wanted her cared for, and she was probably pregnant.

  But why, then, would he allow that same nursemaid to be used by the Betas? Why damage a female who was set to nurse his kits?

  The answer, Renegade assumed, was sinister given just what sort of fiend her mate really was. “You’ve had kits of your own recently?” she asked, scrubbing at a glob of sperm clinging to the Beta’s cheek.

  But the other shook her head, sending wide, frightened eyes to the Alphas holding position at Renegade’s command. “No, mistress,” she whispered, licking dry lips. “But I was an Ayah—a wet nurse—before… before I was taken.”

  Renegade nodded, internalizing her reaction to such news. Keeping her face neutral. “And how did your milk come in, if you’ve never been born young?”

  “Woccuh herbs,” Camille breathed, tears beginning to sparkle at her lash line. “They bring my milk. It’s good money,” she insisted. Fierce, in spite of it all. “A good living.”

  “You have no reason for shame,” the wildling Queen replied, and beckoned Sickle closer. “Take her to my nest, sweet Sickle,” she said, tugging the Omega male’s chained wrist until Giaus obliged that unspoken demand and unlocked the cuff. Separating his Omega pair for the first time since he’d forced them to share a heat. “See that she is bathed and cared for.”

  Sickle’s head dipped. “Yes, miss.”

  Camille whined, high and anguished. “Please don’t leave me! Please! I will help you in any way you see fit, mistress. Just don’t leave me—”

  “You are in no danger from my sweet Sickle, Camille,” Renegade returned. Almost laughing aloud at the very notion of her Omega male being a threat to anyone, least of all a battered female. But Renegade offered up her most delicate purr, and sent them away. Dismissed the other Alphas with a curled lip and flick of her fingers. Watching their backs until she was alone with Giaus, tail twitching at her ankles.

  There were many dozens of things Renegade wanted to say to her mate. Many things that started and ended with creative cursing and liberal displays of her temper. But she swallowed them all. Banked her ire for another time, and said, “You’ve gone to the Krust. Been to the city. Haven’t you?”

  In response, Giaus lifted a cup she hadn’t noticed, and took a healthy swig of something that steamed. Saying nothing that a single raised brow couldn’t scream, the smug arrogant dick. Where else had he gotten cups? Grain? Tools? Camille herself, for the pretty, soiled Beta still had her tail. Reeked of fine living and easy meals.

  Puzzling through the enigma that was her mate, Renegade allowed him to take her elbow. Walked with him to the long house and took her place at the head of the table. Watching Giaus’ back as he shuffled around their make-shift kitchen. “Camille herself isn’t my gift,” Renegade spat, showing teeth. “It’s her loyalty. Isn’t it?”

  At that, Giaus seemed to startle. Golden Feral eyes going wide before a melodic purr rattled forth. “Only the best for my Queen,” he said, and tore off a hank of meat still bloody and dripping with grease.

  “What was your plan, mate of mine? Let the Betas use her during my Canicule? Let them rape her and take their pleasure, then let me loose to save the day? And oh look! She just so happens to be a nursemaid with ripe tits. What a coincidence.”

  Giaus snorted.

  “I’ll accept your gift,” Renegade pressed, picking at her first real meal in days. “But only because that sort of loyalty is impossible to buy. In exchange,” she said, dropping all pretenses at diplomacy, “you will never do such a thing again.”

  “Eat,” he said, and licked glistening lips. “And I shall consider your request.”

  “Oh, you want to play games!” Renegade drummed her fingers on the tabletop, letting each point of her nails fall with the weight of her barely restrained fury. “I can play games, Giaus. Or you can have me willing. Eager to please…”

  “I’ll have you anyway I wish,” he returned, and tore the meat off the bone he was working at. “And I’ll have you twice as often when you begin to show…”

  Pausing, Renegade lifted what he’d given her—a drumstick of some sort—and crunched directly through the bone. Grinding meat and splinters into goopey dust between the sharp points of her teeth. Holding his eye as she swallowed.

  For a moment, neither relented. Alpha to Omega, they clashed.

  And then, “A truce.” Giaus poured her a measure of spiced mead; poured another for himself. “And in exchange, I’ll have my Queen.”

  “A partner,” she agreed, taking a dainty sip. Watching him over the rim of her glass.

  Giaus held out his mug.

  She swallowed, tail thumping. Itching at the base. But she clinked her glass with his, sealing a deal made with the demon beyond the Krust.

  Read CROWNING THE RENEGADE OMEGA Now!

  FREE BOOK! Tentacles From the Deep

  Want more Renegade and all her mad filth? Of course you do! Go on and read Crowning the Renegade Omega to find out what all the fuss about the Feral Alpha is… Turn the page for a full chapter preview!

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  Hunting the Renegade Omega—An Omega unlike any other, Renegade rejects her society and lives as a wild thing. Until her heat comes, and she is forced to seek male attention… but she catches more than she bargained for…

  Conquering the Renegade Omega—She left the six males after drinking her fill and taking just enough to get her through her heat, but the scent of a breeding female has drawn the attention of a far greater foe… Can Renegade escape before the Feral Alpha claims her for good?

  Taming the Renegade Omega—The Feral Alpha has claimed his mate, but can he tame her, or will he have to chain her in place even as he takes his fill of the Queen of the beyond? Out here, Giaus is King, and the King shall have his legacy…

  Crowning the Renegade Omega—Kept and cared for, Renegade chafes at the doting attention of her males. Longing for the freedom now utterly beyond her short leash… Life in the beyond is hard, but it can always get darker…

  Craving something else from the vault? Give Tentacles from the Deep a whirl, and see why the youngest apprentice warlock in a thousand years can barely handle the queen of the deep…

  Crowning the Renegade Omega…

  Chapter 1

  Sickle watched as his Queen returned. Watched the roll of her hips as she joined them at the covered bathing pool. Came back to him. Though true, she was escorted by Giaus, it was Sickle’s wrist her chain was affixed to when the massive Feral Alpha took his leave.

  Abandoning the battered Beta female soaking in the heated spring as he moved to meet his Queen, Sickle purred. Pleased that the female in his charge protested his leaving after so little time spent together, for Sickle was nothing if not dedicated to the desires of his Renegade. Dedicated to seeing Camille grow healthy and fearless under his care.

  After all, it was Renegade’s wish.

  “No man shall touch you, unless you wish it,” Renegade said, ascending the steps hewn directly into stone. Sliding into the bathing pool across from a female that should have outranked her, but didn’t. Didn’t come close to matching the wildfire burning in the Queen’s heart. “You’ll tell me the moment one of them tries, yes?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Camille said, demure, now that the cum had been washed away by heated waves and Sickle’s own hand. “Does… Does that mean… I’m staying?”

  For a moment, neither Renegade nor Sickle did so much as move. Merely watched the Beta female fret and fidget as she soaked.

  “Do you want to stay?” Renegade asked, tracing an unknowable pattern on the water’s surface.

  Camille’s head dipped in a vigorous nod. “I… I know I shouldn’t want to,” she murmured, eyes snapping toward the pack males and their e
fforts to make a fortress out here in the beyond. “I should want to go home. To the kits I was raising and the family who paid for my services. I should hate your mate for taking me from my life, and… for what followed.”

  “But?”

  Camille swallowed, and it was a thing of visible struggle, even to Sickle’s untrained eye. “But I can’t. I can’t go back there, willingly. Can’t continue to serve a breeding pair like them,” she spat, and the venom made Sickle recoil—made Renegade sit forward. Licking her perfect, kissable lips.

  “And what did this breeding pair do to inspire such…”

  “Hatred?” Camille supplied, and laughed. Low and bitter. “They were an Alpha pair, Mistress. An Alpha pair with Alpha kits. A union between two great packs, and certainly lucrative, but not one of love. There was no caring there. Not between the breeding pair, and certainly not for any who found themselves born into that pack. Or bought for it.”

  Renegade hummed, but seemed content to let the other speak her mind. And so Sickle ignored his urge to question, and followed her lead.

  “No one cared,” Camille continued, showing teeth through the shine of tears. “Not when the Alpha male decided he’d grown tired of his lady wife. Not when he decided he’d like to start sampling the other females in his pack, and certainly not when he decided he’d like to mount me while I was nursing his kits. It was all I could do not to crush them,” she whispered, trembling so hard the water shivered along with her. “I shouldn’t want to stay,” Camille hissed, and Sickle could see that her fists were clenched beneath the surface. “But I cannot go back. I cannot be the one to squash a suckling I nursed just to satisfy the fetish of a sick Alpha. I can’t. So I will stay, if you’ll have me,” she breathed, not bothering to wipe at the tears marking her flushed cheeks. “I’ll help you nurse your kits, Mistress, because it is a job I love doing. I’ll help you raise them in the beyond, and I’ll swear loyalty to you. Only you.”