Page 38

MOUNTAIN PASSAGE

Amelia's POV

The mountain wind cuts through my cloak like ice-cold knives. Six months have passed since that final battle on the ledge—six months of constant movement, looking over our shoulders, building something unprecedented from the ashes of everything we abandoned.

My hand rests on my swollen belly, feeling the distinctive flutter of movement beneath stretched skin. Our child kicks with increasing vigor, perhaps sensing the thin air as we climb higher into the treacherous pass between towering peaks.

"Easy," I murmur, speaking to both the baby and myself as loose stone shifts beneath my boots.

My center of gravity has transformed dramatically.

The pregnancy dominates my silhouette now—thirty-four weeks along, according to my careful calculations.

The portable scanner we salvaged from an abandoned medical facility confirmed what we suspected: our child has developed distinctive wing buds along his shoulder blades.

Small protrusions that will eventually unfold into wings like his father's.

A hybrid. The first of his kind.

The shadow of massive wings passes overhead, momentarily blocking the pale sun.

I look up instinctively, tracking Vex's powerful form as he circles above our small caravan.

Even now, with his territory lost and his status as territorial alpha stripped away, he maintains constant vigilance.

The scars from Council binding chains still mark his black scales—silver lines across wings and torso where their weapons nearly grounded him forever.

"Movement to the north," calls Terrin, one of the resistance fighters who joined us three months ago. His voice carries the edge of constant wariness we've all developed. "Looks like mountain goats, but..."

He doesn't finish the sentence. None of us trust appearances anymore.

Our unlikely band has grown since fleeing the Convergence Peaks.

What began as just Vex and me escaping Council retribution has expanded into something unprecedented.

Former resistance members who lost their cells to Council raids.

A family with twin daughters whose eyes glow amber in darkness—evidence of their mixed heritage.

Two other omega-alpha pairs who refused breeding facility assignments.

We've become something new. Neither human resistance nor Prime hierarchy, but a third option carved from the spaces between.

Serena walks ahead of me, her feline alpha Lionel maintaining protective position at her flank. Her pregnancy shows less than mine—barely twelve weeks—but morning sickness has plagued her for days. I've been treating her symptoms with mountain herbs, though proper medication would work better.

"How much further?" she asks, one hand pressed to her stomach as another wave of nausea hits.

"The pass crests just ahead," I reply, though my own body screams for rest. My back aches constantly now. Swollen ankles protest every step on uneven terrain. But stopping means vulnerability, and vulnerability means death or worse.

The twin girls—Vivi and Rina—scramble up rock faces with unnatural agility. Their hybrid nature grants advantages their human mother never possessed. Enhanced strength. Improved balance. And most unnervingly, the ability to see thermal signatures in complete darkness.

"Mama, look!" Vivi calls out, pointing toward something only she can detect. "Pretty lights dancing in the sky!"

Her mother Elena follows her daughter's gaze with growing alarm. "I don't see anything, sweetheart."

Which means whatever Vivi observes lies beyond human perception. Possibly Council surveillance drones using frequencies invisible to normal vision.

Vex lands with practiced silence on a flat outcropping ahead, wings folding against his back as he approaches. His yellow eyes scan the horizon before settling on me with concern that makes my chest tighten.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, voice low enough that only I can hear.

"Like I'm carrying a future Chimeric alpha who enjoys using my ribs as a percussion instrument," I reply, but warmth underlies my complaint.

His massive hand reaches toward my belly, then pauses—still asking permission even after all these months. The gesture moves me more than grand romantic declarations ever could.

I guide his palm to where our son kicks most vigorously. Through the stretched fabric of my tunic, his claws remain carefully retracted as our child responds to his father's touch with increased activity.

"He's strong," Vex says, pride evident in his deep voice. "Like his mother."

The others give us space, setting up temporary shelter while maintaining respectful distance. They've witnessed enough of our journey to understand the complexity between us. How something born from force became partnership neither of us anticipated.

I settle onto smooth stone, grateful to relieve pressure from my swollen feet. Vex crouches beside me, wings extending slightly to block mountain wind that tastes of snow and approaching storm.

"The scouts report clear passage to the southern valley," he tells me. "Two days if weather cooperates."

I lean against his chest, savoring heat that radiates from scales adapted for high-altitude flight. His internal temperature runs several degrees above human normal—a welcome relief against mountain cold that seeps through every layer of clothing.

"And if it doesn't cooperate?" I ask, knowing his capabilities in severe weather.

His tail curls around my ankle in unconscious possession. "Then I carry you while the others follow covered routes through lower passes."

My hand rises instinctively to the claiming marks on my neck. Six months of healing have transformed them from raw wounds to silvery scars that tingle whenever Vex draws near. No longer symbols of ownership but reminders of transformation—from captivity to choice, from conquered to willing.

As twilight settles over the mountains, we make camp in a protected alcove carved by ancient glaciers. The central fire provides warmth while our group prepares simple meals from foraged supplies and preserved rations.

Unlike traditional alphas who would confine pregnant mates to secure dens, Vex has supported my role as group medic. My nursing background proves invaluable—treating injuries, managing Serena's pregnancy symptoms, teaching Elena how to monitor her daughters' unusual development.

The twins huddle close to their mother, amber eyes reflecting firelight in ways that remind me how different this new generation will be. Born into a world where the barriers between species have already begun crumbling.

"Tell us the story again," Rina requests, her voice carrying the innocent demand of childhood despite everything she's witnessed.

Elena glances at me before beginning the familiar tale—how humans and Primes learned to coexist, how hybrid children might bridge the gap between species, how their differences could become strengths rather than divisions.

It's a beautiful story. A hopeful story.

I pray it becomes true.

As the others settle for sleep, Vex and I retire to our small shelter—reinforced canvas supported by his knowledge of mountain weather patterns. He creates a nest of furs and salvaged blankets, wings extending to their full span before folding around us like a living cocoon.

The intimacy of the enclosed space heightens every sensation. His scent—pine and leather and something uniquely him that makes my omega biology hum with recognition. The heat radiating from his body. The careful way he positions himself to avoid putting pressure on my pregnant belly.

I feel his arousal building against my lower back, the impressive length hardening beneath thin fabric. My body responds instantly despite my advanced pregnancy, slick dampening my thighs as biological imperatives override rational thought.

"Vex," I whisper, need making my voice husky.

His rumbling growl vibrates through his chest against my spine. "Tell me what you want, Amelia."

Even now, he asks. Even after months of intimacy, he seeks consent rather than simply taking what biology tells him belongs to him.

"I want to feel you," I breathe. "All of you."

He helps position me on my side, mindful of my swollen belly as he lifts my leg over his hip. I feel the thick weight of his cock sliding between my thighs, gathering slick before positioning at my entrance.

The ridged texture that once seemed monstrous now feels perfectly designed for my body. Each bump and ridge catches sensitive spots as he presses forward, stretching me with familiar burn that transforms into pleasure.

"So ready for me," he murmurs appreciatively. "Always so wet and willing."

I push back impatiently, taking him deeper with a gasp that echoes in our small shelter. The stretch is exquisite—my body remembers exactly how to accommodate his size, muscles relaxing to welcome him home.

When he's fully seated inside me, his secondary organ extends from its position above his main shaft. The specialized appendage seeks my swollen clit with practiced precision, attaching with perfect suction that makes me cry out.

The dual sensation never fails to overwhelm me. Completely filled by his ridged length while the specialized organ works my most sensitive nerves. No human could provide such stimulation. No other alpha possesses anatomy designed specifically for omega pleasure.

"Nothing compares to this," I gasp as he begins moving. Each thrust drags his textured shaft against my inner walls while suction pulses against my clit in perfect rhythm. "Nothing else could satisfy me now."

He establishes a deep, grinding pace that accommodates my pregnant belly while maximizing sensation from his unique anatomy. His tail wraps around my thigh, adjusting angle to hit spots that make stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Mine," he growls against my claiming marks, teeth grazing silvered scars. "My mate. My Amelia."