Page 6 of Advocate Omega (Unforeseen Paths #1)

Zander

Why is there so much crap everywhere ?

Why is the majority of it like…wooden?

I scowl as I trip for a fifth time before finally finding the bathroom. Flipping on the light, I yelp when a mirror flashes my reflection. I know I’m like…the physical embodiment of tough, but that was sudden, alright?

“Everything alright in there?” the non-alpha-alpha calls to me.

“Yup!”

I knew I was taking a risk earlier by sneaking inside this weird cabin in the woods, but I didn’t smell alpha. Not fully. Similar to what’s left of an alpha or maybe one who recently died. It’s hard to explain, and I don’t care to right now because I have to pee.

Whipping my cock out, I relieve myself with a guttural groan. Gods, how long was I holding it for? The loud stream of my urine doesn’t echo like it should, and I realize it’s because, other than the shower itself, everything else is wood instead of tile.

I scrunch up my nose, taking in the rustic bathroom. A hand-drawn painting of a fish is on the wall. It’s…cute. No. No. Not cute. What the hell is wrong with me today. Things are cute? I shake my head and hurry to wash my hands.

Opportunities like the one I’ve been presented aren’t likely to happen again, especially not in this fucked up place. I need to convince this guy to give me better directions and bounce.

When I exit the restroom, I spot all the lights on.

Hmm. He seemed perfectly content to dwell in darkness like a bat before.

Still not trusting him, though, I hold my fire poker like a large club and tiptoe down the short hall and back into the living room.

While I do so, I see all the shit I tripped over.

Wooden toys, wooden miniature chairs, and wooden musical instruments that I’m positive don’t make any sound. The uneven floorboards are definitely not up to code, and a rolled-up pink carpet seems haphazardly kicked under the leather armchair.

And then there’s…this guy.

He’s big. Probably one of the biggest shifters I’ve ever seen—okay fine, he’s the biggest.

This dude makes Alpha-Driver seem tiny. But unlike Alpha-Driver, I’m not scared of this male. Not in the slightest.

He reeks of sadness, literally.

It’s covering whatever pheromones he has—sad sack of muscular male wolf.

Poor guy…

With a mane of black, unruly hair that’s a bit shorter than mine and a nest of a beard, he sits on his sofa, legs spread and hugging the bottle of whiskey to his chest. Jeez. Talk about a train wreck.

I suppose if he shaved and ran a comb through his hair, he might look okay.

It’s hard to tell because his mustache covers both lips, and the coarse hairs on his cheeks are damn near to his eyeballs.

However, his shoulders are broad and muscular.

His chest looks…cuddly. The kind of pecs you can bury your face in.

I shake my head to snap out of it.

“So, which way to the nearest highway?”

He grunts, and his head flops back. You’d think there’d be some neck under the beard. Nope. Just more beard. “There isn’t one. Just go across the creek. You can swim, right?”

I gape at him. Seriously? “There isn’t a highway? Freeway? That’s what they call them in some places, I looked it up.”

“Not out here. Not for miles.”

Slumping onto the armrest of the chair beside me, I lower the poker. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

The way he says it…so defeated and ungodly miserable pinches my chest, and I’m not sure why.

I rub at it, frowning, and then huff because…

Well, I can’t feel sorry for this strange alcoholic.

That’s just ridiculous. But, I see lots of…

kid things in here. In fact, it’s almost sickening how much this resembles a nursery.

Gods, there’s even a half-built crib tucked over in the corner by the fireplace.

I tripped on that bad boy.

“Did your kid die?” I blurt without thinking.

His head whips upright, fury pouring out of his light green eyes. “Get. Out.”

“I—wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

The male stands, wobbly on his legs, and I spot that the bottle is half gone now. “Get out of my house,” he roars, a vein appearing in his forehead. His eyes flash with silver, and his canines elongate to their full capacity.

I scramble to stand, back up, and get ready to run when I hear the howls.

Lots of howls.

“Fuck,” I whine.

That opportunity I was gushing over whilst pissing? Gone. Poof.

Say goodbye, freedom and hello, brood cow.

I dart over to his back door, ready to leave the way I came, but through the tiny window, complete with lacy curtains, I spot them.

The search party with flashlights in the distance.

Damn it to hell. Rushing back into the living room, I find the male standing exactly where he was, but this time, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing control.

“They’re outside,” I tell him, just in case he’s too drunk to smell them.

“I know.”

“Alright. Um. Well, do you have another back door? Besides that one?” I throw my thumb over my shoulder, but he isn’t even looking at me.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters and then finally aims his eyes in my direction. “Answer me truthfully. Did you agree to this?”

“To what?” I ask dumbly.

He growls, and my back stiffens automatically. “To help my clan.”

His clan. Not our clan. I stuff that away for future.

“I didn’t agree to jack shit, man. They kidnapped me! I told you! They killed Ashley, Brittany, and Olgra! Fucking Olgra!”

“Shh,” he hisses. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He grumbles something else, but it’s all slurs, so I don’t catch what. “I’m going to scent you and then you’re going to get in my bed. They are still far enough away not to hear you.”

My heart jack-knifes in my chest. “Absolutely the fuck not.”

“I can’t hide you if they smell you.”

“They can’t smell me. I don’t have a smell,” I argue. It’s why I’m so good at blending in and avoiding this exact scenario.

“You have a fucking smell,” he barks.

Startled, jaw kind of hanging, I blink at him. “No, I don’t.”

“Do you want to argue or do you want them to leave?”

“I want them to leave.” Affirmative. Yes. Effective immediately.

“Get over here, then.” The command is powerful, but not mean. It does something weird to my insides, and I hate it. But still, my legs walk me right in front of him, and I crane my neck to stare up at his furry face. “Bare your throat to me.”

“This feels wildly inappropriate,” I grumble, but do it.

He grabs me, that big hand landing on the small of my back, and he dips down and rubs his beard all over me.

It tickles, and I have to bite my lip not to laugh.

Then he nuzzles his nose over my cheeks.

Potent, and I do mean potent , pheromones are released into the air.

I go lax in his hold. His canines nip at my skin, sending little zings of unwanted pleasure through me.

When his tongue swipes over the sensitive flesh, licking up and under my jaw and then behind my ear, I gasp.

“There,” he rumbles. “Get in my bed.”

I’m a little dizzy or dazed, something, because I stand there, staring at him.

“Do it now,” he whispers.

“Okay,” I rasp and then shake myself. “Do I have to?”

His hard stare is my only answer before I hear the knock on his front door. I do as I’m told, then I hurry to find his bedroom.

So, his bed is miserable, I decide.

It’s so damn hard. The blankets are like sandpaper, and he has only one pillow. One.

Look, I’m not rich by any means, but the small trust fund my parents left in the event of their untimely death was enough for me to buy more than one fucking pillow. This guy certainly can afford more than one. Like, who even does that kind of stuff?

Maybe I’m hyper focusing on the pillow situation because there are at least—I take another sniff—six alphas and—another sniff—three betas in his living room.

Their voices all morph into one blob of noise at this point, and I’m as rigid as the damn mattress, trying not to breathe too loudly.

Oddly enough, I can make out his voice distinctly.

It’s not as deep as some of the others, but it’s just the right amount of bass to make omegas stupid.

And with how angry he sounds? Yeah, I’m betting he’s made plenty of omegas lose their damn minds.

He’s got to be at least forty, so that’s many years of ruining brain chemistry.

Well, he won’t ruin mine. I don’t care how good his scent smells on me or how my hole hasn’t stopped clenching since I climbed into more of it.

We won’t even talk about the inappropriate boner I’m sporting; that’s just inevitable.

Now is not the time for my stupid body to scrounge up its baser instincts—no, sir, not I. I refuse to become the stereotype. Nope. No. No—

“ I’ve told you, Ulric. I haven’t seen him, and even if I did, I would have let him go. This is ridiculous, and you know it. Think of— ”

Think of what?

Who?

I focus on listening to Ulric’s response.

“ You reek, Lucan. How do you expect me to believe you when I haven’t caught that scent on you in six years? ”

Huh?

“Can’t a wounded man reminisce? What I do in my spare time isn’t your concern anymore.”

“Because you won’t let it. We are still kin. Still a pack.”

“Do not preach to me about what a pack does or doesn’t do. Don’t you fucking dare. The omega isn’t here, now leave. ”

His voice booms through the house, and I jab the heel of my palm over my throbbing cock. What the fuck is this reaction to him? It’s disgusting.

There’s some mutual grumbling from the search party, and then a few minutes later, silence. I stay right where I am, breathing through my mouth so I stop inhaling this aphrodisiac, and wait.

Eventually, I hear Lucan walking towards the room. Not wanting to appear too cozy—which I’m nowhere close to—I sit up and criss-cross my legs.

Lucan is a nice name for him, though. It suits him.

Ugh.