Page 13 of Arranged Bullied Mate
I know I should be listening. The pack meetings are important. They give members a chance to air their worries and disputes before they escalate, and also bring new ideas forward for the pack. It’s why I want to be alpha, to be at the center of my pack and lead. But today, I can barely focus on what anyone is saying. I’m sure Jacob has noticed, because he keeps asking questions—questions I know I should be on top of, but my mind keeps drifting to the beautiful blonde currently in heat back at my house.
Jacob is saying something about thieves targeting homes on the east perimeter, and I realize I haven’t heard a word of it. I nod anyway, trusting that he’ll handle it. That’s what a good beta does—fills the cracks left by an alpha. But it gnaws at me that I even have cracks, and that they all trace back to the same source.
If I close my eyes, I can still feel the shape of her body under my hands, the desperate heat of her skin, the way her cunt took my hand like it was made for it. I can still see the tears streaking her cheeks as she choked on my cock, and the way she reached for more, even as her mind tried to deny what her body was begging for. The memory is so vivid that I have to shift in my chair to hide the bulge in my jeans.
The room is full of voices, all competing for attention as usual. One stands out the most—Maddox. He’s at the far end, loud as hell, stirring up the young betas with his usual overly simplistic rhetoric. I ignore him. I tune it all out. Instead, my thoughts drift to yesterday and the way Ava made me feel more alive than I can remember.
She was on her knees, hair still wet, cheeks flushed with fever, and the scent of her slick so thick I could taste it in theair. My cock deep in her throat and the intoxicating scent of her pheromones wrapped around me like a chokehold. She’s coming into her heat, and every cell of her body is begging to be bred, whether she wants to admit it or not.
I could have knotted her then and started the breeding process, but I didn’t. I’m not even sure why not. I’ve fucked Ava before, but this is different; we were younger then. The thought of mounting and knotting her…that’s something else. It’s hot as hell. Knotting can be hard on an omega; you have to prepare them for it if you don’t want to hurt them.
I imagine the moment—how it would feel to split her open, really open her up for the first time, to knot and lock so deep inside her that she’d never forget it was me who did it, who made her feel that way. I’ve heard stories about the first time, how an omega’s body trembles and shakes, how they can’t stop themselves from milking every drop of cum you have to give, desperate for seed.
I’d always assumed it would be some perfect omega, one chosen from the more socially acceptable families, delicate and compliant. Not Ava. Not the girl from the bad family who lived on the pack’s periphery and was then cast out with the rest of them. But the thought of it is so potent it nearly undoes me. I picture her bent over the edge of my bed, hair tangled in my fist, her cunt stretched wide around the base of my cock, clutching at me so tight it’s almost painful. I can see it so clearly, the way her ass would tremble as I bottomed out, the heat of her body as she tried to pull away and couldn’t, her body milking my cock…
“Ronan.” Jacob kicks me under the table. He leans closer and whispers, “You want to weigh in on the boundary patrols, or just keep daydreaming about your omega?” The sly twist of his mouth says he already knows the answer.
I glare at him but clear my throat and lean forward, pinning Maddox with a stare. “We’ll double the watch. Take the juniors off night rotation and move them to evenings. If they’re not ready, they’re off the list.” I repeat what I’d already discussed with Jacob earlier, and that seems to satisfy the crowd, as I see plenty of nods in agreement.
Maddox raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching at the corners. “Sure thing, Alpha,” he says, putting just enough emphasis on the word to make it sound more like a dare—something that doesn’t go unnoticed in the crowd as people exchange sideways glances. The meeting dissolves into a low murmur, then everyone starts getting up, scraping chairs and shuffling out.
Jacob waits until the crowd has drifted away before looking at me, one eyebrow cocked high. “You were miles away,” he says. “And you reek of omega heat, just so you know.”
I snort, but he’s right. It’s in my hair, my clothes, and probably on my fucking skin. Jacob pulls a face and waves his hand in front of his nose. “Dude. If you’re going to try and keep this on the down-low, maybe shower before you come to a meeting with half the pack’s unmated males.”
“I did shower,” I say, and it comes out more defensive than I intend. “It’s not like I can turn it off. I’m not the one in heat.”
He grins, slumping back in his chair. “That’s how it works, Ronan. You know that. And you know every male in here can scent it from the parking lot. You’re lucky Maddox is too busy eye-fucking himself in every shiny surface. Otherwise, you’d be adding to your problems there; everyone knows the boost in power that alphas get from breeding an omega. And he already fancies himself to be an alpha.”
I snort, shaking my head. I want to argue, but I know he’s right. I rub my temples, the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind my eyes.
Jacob leans in, lowering his voice. “So, how bad is it?”
I stare at the table, tracing a scratch with my thumb. “She’s trying to hide her heat…it’s not working, obviously.”
I wouldn’t go into detail with anyone else, but Jacob and I have been through a lot together and shared everything, including women. Would I share Ava? I don’t even need to pay attention to my wolf, who instantly bristles, to know the answer is hell no. Jacob’s mouth twitches, the corners barely containing his amusement. “You waiting for a written invitation? Or just hoping she’ll beg for it on her hands and knees?”
I narrow my eyes. “She’s not ready yet. Her scent’s going wild, but she’s not fertile. I’d know.”
He scoffs, slouching deeper into his chair. “Fertile or not, your omega is in heat, and half the pack could track you with their noses tied shut. You want to let Maddox and the rest think you’re going soft?”
I bristle, the familiar prickle of challenge tightening across my shoulders. “Maddox can think whatever the fuck he wants. I’m not going to be the one wanting it when she’s fighting it every step of the way.”
Jacob just shakes his head, grinning like I’ve missed some cosmic joke. “You’re overthinking. Not everything is a power play, Ronan. Sometimes you just have to let your wolf do what he wants.”
He says it so easily, like it’s a foregone conclusion, like the rest of my life isn’t already built around self-control. The idea of giving in, of letting my wolf have what he wants, is almosttempting, but I push it away. Not yet. Not until Ava stops looking at me like I’ve done something wrong. Something is off with her, and until I can either figure out what it is or she comes begging, I’m not going to lower my defenses completely.
Jacob seems to read my mind. “You still think she’s hiding something?” he asks, and I nod, almost not wanting to verbalize my concerns since he’s already suspicious of her. Instead, he surprises me. “Her family is rotten to the core, but give her credit; she never was. Perhaps it's a shame she was banished, but that’s the way it goes.”
“Now who’s going soft?” I laugh, knowing Jacob’s not generally a fan of second chances where the pack is concerned.
He shrugs as if his take isn’t unusual, “Emily likes her, she seems like a good omega, and I think the pack will be happy to turn this next chapter with their alpha breeding some pups. Fresh start and all that.”
That damn image of knotting Ava pops into my head again, and I groan, half tempted to storm back to the house and take her wherever I find her. I’m almost grateful for the interruption as Darryl, one of my oldest betas, walks back into the hall looking like a man on a mission. He’s got the air of a man who’d rather be anywhere else, but his voice is steady as he glances around before speaking. “Elder Wilder wants a word, Ronan. Jacob, too, if you’re free.”
I nod, scrubbing a hand over my face, and the three of us cut through the now almost empty hall into the elder’s office. The old man is perched behind his desk, ancient and sharp-eyed, but still radiating the authority that comes from being the last of the old guard. Technically, this isn’t Wilder’s office, but I’m not sure anyone has ever told him that, and I’m certainly not going to be the first. I suspect he’s been conducting meetings in herelong before even my father’s time. It’s not lost on me that his door is covered in scratch marks, deep gouges along the grain from decades of ill-tempered alphas and the disputes they’ve dealt with.
He doesn’t waste time. “I’ll keep this short, since I’m sure you’re busy with…everything.” He appears to scent the air before his eyes flick from me to Jacob, then to Darryl, and back again, as if weighing something. “There’s talk of a challenge.”