Omega Reimagined volume 1
Copyright
Omega Reclaimed, copyright 2016 Tanya Chris (Original cover art for Omega Reclaimed by pro_ebookcovers)
Omega Revealed, copyright 2017 Tanya Chris
Omega Released, copyright 2018 Tanya Chris
www.tanychris.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
Cover art by Chay Fox (ChayEbookCovers)
Author’s Note
Please note that omega biology allows for fisting without the level of preparation and stretching necessary for safe human fisting. This book is not intended to be used for instructive purposes.
Contents
Omega Reclaimed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Omega Revealed
Gage
Ryker
Gage
Ryker
Gage
Ryker
Gage
Ryker
Gage
Ryker
Omega Released
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Omega Reclaimed
Chapter 1
Naturally I smelled it—smelled it and was drawn to it. Rich, ripe, male omega—not far away and well into his heat. Unsatisfied heat. I could smell his frustration.
Here in New During, there weren’t a lot of shapeshifters. Most of us lived closer to forest land, to where we could let our wolves run without restriction when the moon was out or our lust got too strong to contain in human form.
Those who did come to the city were typically betas. Our wolfly world on the edge of humanity didn’t make much allowance for a beta with drive and ambition. Play second fiddle or move out, those were the choices. More and more, they chose to leave. Now that the humans were becoming more tolerant, more welcoming, even having gone so far as to pass anti-discrimination laws that guaranteed a beta an equal place, the human world had become more alluring.
Even the occasional omega escaped his pack, as this one must have, though it was rare. Not that an omega wouldn’t want to escape—they had plenty of good reasons to want to, in my opinion, but the pack didn’t make it easy. Omegas were in demand, especially male ones—too valuable to be allowed to leave, to change allegiances to a society that didn’t cherish them but did respect them. If I were an omega, I’d have found a way out.
But I wasn’t an omega. I was an alpha, an even rarer find in human cities. Why would we voluntarily walk away from a society where we were kings, where we commanded all we surveyed and could excuse any behavior with a shrug and the word alpha?
I’d walked away because I didn’t want what I didn’t deserve and I didn’t deserve what I hadn’t earned and a luck of birth hadn’t earned me the right to command other people.
Didn’t mean I couldn’t smell that omega though. His scent summoned me. I laughed, realizing that in this moment, at least, the omega was the boss of the alpha. I’d never seen him, didn’t know his name, but I’d have promised him anything just to fuck him one time.
Dangerous—that was what omegas were.
I’d been on my way home from work when I’d scented him. My mundane, human nine-to-five job earned me a salary I hoped to parlay into an empire someday, an empire I’d command because I’d earned it. For now I went to work and said yes, sir while the wolf inside me rated and ranked the people above me and found them all lacking. I could take them in a fight. For sure. But that wasn’t what the human world asked of me.
Tonight, halfway between my place of business and the little apartment I lived in, as I’d been plotting dinner and envisioning another laptop session after I ate—a typical week day night, all work and no play—I’d suddenly found myself frozen on the sidewalk. Around me people bustled, unaffected by the scent the light breeze carried across the park. They wouldn’t recognize the scent even if they could smell it, just like they wouldn’t know me to be a shifter. We shifters knew each other in an instant because humans smelled like humans and we smelled like wolves, but human noses weren’t keen enough to notice the difference.
Face-to-face with an omega in heat, a human might judge him in need of a shower. That earthy, musky, glorious smell like fresh-baked, come-covered doughnuts—hot and sticky and sweet and raw—was only vaguely unpleasant in their noses. To me, it was an irresistible summons.
Without even realizing it, I changed course, following the scent across the park, finding myself outside an apartment building on the other side. He was up there. I raised my nose, letting him waft down to me, drawing him in like a human might suck down chocolate syrup: all greed and longing.
Two floors up, I reckoned, last apartment on the right. The biggest window facing the park was closed and dark but a smaller window, open to the warm spring breeze, glowed dimly, like a single lamp had been left on beside the bed he tossed on. I imagined the sheets damp with his sweat and the slick lubrication his ass would be producing as it waited for the only thing that could satisfy his heat: an alpha knot.
I just so happened to have an alpha knot. In fact, my cock was threatening to go supernova right there on the sidewalk and produce a knot without even a hole to stuff it into. He smelled that good. He was that close. Just up there. Two floors up. Last apartment on the right. Needing.
I wondered where his alpha was. That he was alone, I knew. If there’d been another wolf in there with him, I’d have been able to smell it from here. More than that though, if he had an alpha, he wouldn’t be in this need.
Omegas were dangerous not just because an omega in heat could pull an alpha a quarter mile out of his way to stand like a stalker below his window, not just because an alpha in rut would willingly tie his life to that omega in exchange for a single fuck. Omegas were dangerous because we were biologically programmed to take care of them.
This omega, whoever he might be, whatever his reason for living in the New During and not with his pack, wasn’t my business. He smelled delicious, but he wasn’t mine to taste. Perhaps he was nobody’s, but that was his business too. He had the right to be unclaimed and to suffer through his heats without relief in exchange for having dominion over his own life. I firmly believed that.
I believed it, I believed it, I believed it.
I needed to help him.
I could check on him, I told myself. He was a fellow shapeshifter and he was suffering. The decent wolf-brother thing to do was to check on him. Not fuck him, not claim him. Check on him.
It was a piss-poor justification for following my nose up to his apartment, but I went anyway. The building wasn’t a secure one and my alpha instincts growled at that too. Omega should be somewhere safe, kept behind locked doors.
No, no, no. Down wolf. This omega could live wherever he chose. He was as capable of taking care of himself as any adult, more so certainly than any human. Anyway, the lack of security got me up to his apartment quicker, not that what humans considered a locked door could have kept me out for long.
I stood outside the door to his apartment where the scent was heavy and overlaid with sickness—with hunger, with fear, with loneliness and despair. Omega needed me.
&nbs
p; I banged on the door and when I didn’t get a response, I banged harder. I didn’t need to bang. He might not be an alpha but his senses were as sharp as mine. He’d hear a whisper. I sprang my claws free and raked them lightly over the door, letting my wolf do the talking.
Inside his apartment, the thrashing stopped. He’d scented me back by now, no doubt, knew who was outside his door calling to him.
“Omega,” I crooned, my voice low and melodic, singing him a little song of seduction. “I’m here to help.”
He whimpered. I could hear the want in his whimper, but he didn’t rise to answer the door.
“Be a good boy and let me in.”
He whimpered again, weaker, sicker, something below a conscious level. I began to worry that he was too far gone to help himself, that he might not be able to let me in. I wiggled the door handle and when the door didn’t open, I inserted one of my claws into the space between the door and the jamb and forced back the bolt until the door sprang open.
My arrival in his apartment got no reaction from him, so I followed the hall to the room where I’d seen the light. This door was also shut but not locked. When I opened it, I found him. The room was barely big enough to contain the little furniture it held—a bed, a dresser, and a single straight-back chair. The walls were painted landlord-white and the carpet was an industrial beige. There’d been sheets on the bed at one point—a floral print in shades of pink and green—but they were mostly on the floor now, along with his discarded night clothes and a half dozen towels, all of which were soaked in slick.
He lay in the middle of the queen-sized bed, naked, somewhere between dazed and unconscious. He didn’t turn to look at me when I came in, but when I crouched in front of him, his eyes flickered open briefly. This was a very sick omega. The heat was on him hard and had been for at least two days. From up close, the most beautiful scent in the world—omega in heat—was tinged with the smell of an unwashed and unhealthy body.
There was a plastic bottle of water on the nightstand next to him, cap off and with a few inches of water left in it. I lifted him into a half-seated position and held the bottle to his lips.
“Drink.”
He did, with grateful gulps—only two before the bottle was drained. I laid him back down on the bed and went into the kitchenette and found a fresh bottle in the refrigerator and brought it back to him.
“More,” I told him. I nursed him, prompting him again when he lagged, until he’d finished most of the bottle. “Food or shower first?” I asked him. There was a tiny bit more life in his eyes now, a spark of something sane.
“Hungry,” he said. “So hungry.”
His tone told me what he was truly hungry for, but I went in search of food anyway. There was some roast beef in the deli drawer that hadn’t gone bad. Good wolf food, nicely rare, full of iron and protein. I didn’t bother to make him a sandwich like a human might have done, just brought him the package and fed it to him, slice after slice, until he pushed my hand away.
“Shower now?” I asked.
When he nodded, I helped him to his feet and steered him into the bathroom. Even before we’d made it the three steps down the hall it took to reach his bathroom, I knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself upright, so I sat him on the toilet while I stripped myself, then guided us both under the steaming water.
He’d been naked all along, but in the dim light of his bedroom, tangled in what remained of the bed clothes, his body had been nothing more than planes and shadows—arousing only because of the way it smelled. Now, illuminated as it was by the harsh fluorescent fixture overhead, there was no hiding how his body appealed to me.
Two days without enough food or water had him cut, like a boxer before a fight, so that his abs stood out in stark contrast as they heaved with his hungry pants. I could see that he’d be lean even when healthy. The breadth of his shoulders and the firm roundness of the muscles surrounding them told me that he made an effort to stay strong. I’d been surprised by the doughy softness of some of the human males I’d fucked for fun, though it wasn’t their fault they ran to fat so easily. This omega was a prime specimen—the delicate fragility of an omega, the hard strength of a wolf.
And then there was his cock—so hard that it rose past the horizontal, pointing upwards towards me as though it knew I were there. I was hard too. Had been since I’d first caught scent of him. My erection was impossible to hide now that I was likewise naked and nearly as impossible to keep him off of. Though he had very little strength, he was using what he had to grab for what he wanted.
Between trying to hold him off of me, and hold him upright, I didn’t have any hands left to wash him, and that certainly wasn’t what he was using his hands for. They were grabbing for my cock, his legs buckling in a way that suggested he’d rather be on his knees than on his feet.
“Behave, little one,” I told him. I rotated him firmly so that his back was against my chest and clamped one arm across both of his to still his seeking hands. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll go back to bed, hmm?”
My words implied a promise I didn’t intend to keep, but they settled him. He became compliant in my arms, almost supporting his own weight so that I could use my other hand to run a soapy washcloth over his body. His head lolled back against my shoulder, little whimpers escaping from between his parted lips. I wasn’t intending to titillate him—or myself—but the thin layer of terry cloth between my hand and his body wasn’t enough to keep me from feeling him or him from feeling me. The heat made him literally hot, like a fever across his skin, and the slick that oozed from his begging hole never seemed to wash clean.
It had been a mistake to dip that washcloth between his legs. He’d tensed like he might come, the tips of his claws popping out to dig into my arms, sending skitters of delicious pain through my body as I imagined those claws raking down my back while I fucked him.
Worse, the slick coated the washcloth more than the washcloth washed away the slick, so that I trailed slick everywhere I brushed. His scent grew stronger and his whimpers grew louder and I decided I’d been strong enough. I needed to shut this exercise down before I pushed him against the tile wall and plowed into him.
Like he wanted. Like I wanted.
So hard, so hard, so hard, my mind chanted, not sure if I was referring to my cock or his cock or the heroic effort I was making to not fuck this omega who was a stranger to me and who would not be asking (begging) me to fuck him if he weren’t in the grip of a medical phenomenon outside his control.
Not fucking him was the right thing to do, and not just for his own sake. I’d been living outside the pack for so long now that my senses weren’t as attuned as they used to be, but I could still pick it up—that trace of a claim. The claim was weak, distant, like it hadn’t been exercised in years, but it was there. Underneath the heat and the desperation, noticeable now that I had him mostly clean, lay the scent of another alpha.
“Come now, little one.” I slid him out of the shower and grabbed what looked like the cleanest towel from the mess around me. Maybe it’d been more than two days he’d been in this heat, given the condition of his apartment and the fact that even fed and showered he was borderline catatonic.
I preferred him in a towel. I could still smell him, but there was less to see. Leaving my clothes on the bathroom floor, I half-carried him back to the bedroom.
“Do you have any clean sheets?” I asked, shaking my head at myself even as I did it. He didn’t give two shits about sheets right then. He wouldn’t even stay in the chair I’d propped him up in. His legs, which hadn’t been capable of supporting him in the shower, were good enough to get him across the room in an attempt to dive bomb my cock.
“Stay,” I said as I pushed him back into the chair. He didn’t like it much, but an omega in heat had a hard time not obeying anything an alpha said that sounded like an order.
I made the bed with the old sheets. They smelled like slick, but so did everything in the apartment.
If I’d had clean sheets delivered straight from a laundry, they’d have smelled like slick the moment I put him between them.
I tucked him into the bed, trying to leave myself on the outside of those not-clean sheets, but he wouldn’t have it. It’s been said that there’s a strength in madness, and he was sure working that strength—grabbing at me as I tried to pull away, as though the sheets were ocean and I was a life preserver.
Madness aside, I was stronger than he was. Of course I was. But only physically. Mentally, I couldn’t walk away from an omega in that much need.
I slid under the sheets, allowing my body to wrap around his the way it wanted to. Or not quite the way it wanted to, but firmly and close. So close, so hot, so very nearly what we were both dying for.
“Go to sleep, little one.” I tried to make it sound like an order, but it came out more like a plea.
It had been too long since he’d had restful sleep, I decided, too long since he’d been truly asleep and not just lust-dazed. I could feed him, I could wash him, but there was only one way I could put him to sleep. As his fevered tossing grew more frantic, I did what he needed me to do: I wrapped a hand around his cock.
It didn’t take more than that. Though it was likely—given the state of his sheets—that he’d gotten himself off a time or ten over the course of the last few days, I knew from Health class that without an alpha present, orgasms more built than relieved the heat effect. Even this orgasm was only a temporary respite. Having been alpha induced, it satisfied his current need, but it wouldn’t end the torment. Only time, or a knot, could do that.
“Go to sleep,” I repeated against his ear unnecessarily. The force of his ejaculation had drained the last strength from his body. He was a dead weight against me, though his hands still clutched at my arm. No, it was myself I was talking to this time. Go to sleep indeed. With my rock-hard cock snuggled up against dripping omega ass? Yeah, that wasn’t likely. I was in for a long night.