Page 2 of Generation Omega: Claimed (Originverse #3)

With so much noise reverberating against me, threatening to tear me apart, I expect Tillie to show some concern, but her omega appears to be preening at the proof of her alphas’ bloodlust. While she clings to her new alpha, I begin to falter, my legs quivering as the alphas’ calls for submission bounce off each other and land directly on me.

Just as I’m about to drop, Kaz’s strong hands grab my arms, ensuring I’m steady as he returns alpha fire with a roar that casts the widest blast radius yet.

I flinch from a memory. I asked Kaz whether he would fight Gideon for power, and he couldn’t answer. No, he did answer. He said he wasn’t accustomed to being led. He said his intention was to do right by me and, if Gideon wasn’t a threat to me, Kaz would allow him to lead without challenge.

Gideon’s indiscriminate rage is a threat to me, and Kaz just answered in a way that silenced Thatcher and briefly halted the roar from the unknown alpha.

I finally realize that one alpha isn’t making a sound, the one holding Tillie.

It’s like he’s not even participating in this battle for power and placement in the pack.

That’s probably because he already won the prize.

Gideon snarls at Kaz, and the wildness in his eyes is a sure sign this apex predator is about to pounce.

But just before his muscles complete their pre-attack spool up, a sound overwhelms all others, freezing everyone in place.

The keening cry is defined by a depth of grief that feels like it’s existed since the world was born.

Tillie’s wail instantly neutralizes her alphas and, into the hush that captures us all, an answering mournful moan emerges from Mr. Kilt.

His pain is just as heartbreakingly ancient as hers.

Their merged lament is ice in my veins. It’s like death is speaking to us through them, warning us of what’s to come if we fail.

It’s impossible to block the sound from invading the locked room where I hide all the shadowy forms my grief wears when it haunts my dreams. This cry might be ancient, but every person who’s ever experienced the finality of death speaks its language.

What’s instantly clear is that the pair’s eternal sorrow strikes the alphas harder and deeper than it does to me. Every one of them curls in on themselves, gripping their own chests to smother the grief grenade before it explodes.

“What’s happening?” Gideon manages to say, but then realizes his question is directed at the man he’s still choking. Gideon releases the professor, who staggers back, unable to stand straight as Tillie and her alpha continue to grieve.

“I don’t know,” the professor raggedly admits, his attention fixed on the sight he can’t comprehend.

Well, fuck, this omegaverse expert is no help at all.

While the alphas remain trapped in the mysterious pain of their omega, the legacy gives me a nudge. I don’t understand it but I obey, stepping closer to Tillie and her new alpha.

“It’s okay.” I keep my voice low and nonthreatening. “It’ll be okay. We’re all here for you. We’ll do whatever you need.”

The rays of first light spread across the sky and Tillie whimpers, huddling into the man’s neck that’s roughly the size of a tree trunk.

The nest. Oh, good, the legacy is picking up the slack for our defective professor.

“Alpha,” I say softly to Mr. Kilt, “your omega needs her nest. Will you follow me?”

Her alpha meets my gaze, his face wet with tears, his green eyes glistening as more gather.

But his obvious emotion doesn’t diminish, even slightly, the menace in his eyes.

If I reach for her, he’ll kill me, and yet, I’m not afraid of him like the other alphas.

The reason is simple—he’s not out of control.

He’s more than willing to homicide , just like the others.

But, in his case, it’s not because he’s feral and off his leash for the first time.

If he kills me, I needed killing—that’s what his face, his eyes, and his posture declare.

He didn’t just become an alpha—he is an alpha, with no memory of ever being anything else.

Okay, great. And that helps us how exactly?

He’ll help you keep order.

When Tillie whines, his arms protectively surround her, and he nods for me to lead the way. I glance at Kaz, knowing he doesn’t want to be separated from me, especially with this intense dude.

You can trust his instincts . He’s the only one you can trust during the rut. Just don’t forget what he is and that, to him, there is no Tillie, just an omega in need.

I quickly share the legacy’s message with Kaz through my thoughts and beg him to work with Gideon to get control of the pack before they join us in the nest. Then I lead the way up the stairs to the main level.

I hear the snarls when they resume and a scuffle, followed by two words that seem to cut through time and space.

“Holy fuck !” Gideon shouts and, for a second, I consider returning to see what the hell is happening. But Kaz sends a shove my way, encouraging me to move more swiftly toward the nest, with the command to lock the door and brace myself against it.

I obey, rushing down the steps toward the nest, ushering the Highlander inside, and slamming the door shut. Blocking the way with my body, my anxious confusion reaches Kaz, and he sends three words to me.

Infamous.

Dangerous.

Impressive.

Impressive? What does that mean?

Kaz provides more in ideas rather than words. It’s not the man who’s impressive, as much as his selection as her alpha. But that doesn’t soothe me against the idea of Tillie being bound to yet another dangerous man.

I don’t know whether it’s my thought or Kaz’s, the reminder that only dangerous men have any hope of protecting Tillie.

Gideon has killed for her.

I have killed for her.

Kaz has killed for her.

Thatcher carries himself like a man familiar with violence, if we can just point him in the right direction.

The kilted tree trunk is more than capable of some serious slaughter.

It doesn’t settle my nerves exactly, but the realization is powerful. All of us are dangerous men, and we’ll be able to handle whoever just arrived on this yacht. But we will only succeed if we become a pack, and that will be created or destroyed in this nest.

Everything we’ll ever be will be decided right here.

Last chance. The legacy’s words are spoken like they’re being read from an inscription on a tombstone.

What do you mean… last chance ? I send back.

The now-familiar expression of eternal grief surfaces in the omega legacy’s message.

Last chance.

Last reveal.

Last omega.

Last alphas.

Last pack.

Either the garden thrives now, or the world will never change.

I want to know more, but Tillie begins to wail again, her nails digging into her alpha’s shoulders.

His rumbling purr answers her, and she arches her back, reaching for him.

He knows what to do, pulling up his kilt and driving inside her in one thrust. Her sorrow is instantly replaced by solace and then insatiable need.

With her heady perfume blooming in the nest, I can’t do anything but watch as the omega’s heat officially begins.