Page 81 of Generation Omega: Claimed (Originverse #3)

TILLIE

Once through the doorway, I smell the pool before my eyes adjust to the dimly lit space.

Stairs lead downward, and I’m already moving toward the bottom where Ory stands completely naked, gloriously ripped and powerful in every way, his cock already saluting me.

His little mountain is definitely worthy of the rest of him.

Not to let a naked man stand alone, my dress falls on the stairs, so when I reach him, I’m as proudly exposed as he is.

It’s not until I’m near him that my eyes acknowledge the way he’s shaking, his hands in clenched, painful fists while he pulses with barely contained rage.

His teeth grind and through his closed mouth emerges a threatening growl. “Get in the water now .” It’s a fierce command, but it’s also a plea.

My confusion must reach him, because he adds, “You smell of him . If my first omega had ever smelled of another alpha, I would have disciplined her severely and slaughtered him.”

Oh, right . This is a primal MF to holy crap do I have a lot of Ms to go with my F relationship structure complication.

No wonder it’s causing extra friction for traditionalist Ory, with potentially disastrous consequences for my poor hubby.

That delicious Cupcake must be protected at all costs.

Without a word, I dash toward the water, not even pausing to check the temperature before hurling myself into it.

I instantly moan my tremendous pleasure at finding it warm and soothing, rather than an icy shock.

Before I’ve settled into my new environment, Ory grabs me from behind, yanking my back against his chest while his arms lock me in place.

He drags his teeth roughly against my neck, and I just know I’ll be wearing a mark there for days.

Still fending off his fury, his body rattles against me, his growls, snarls, and violent purrs overlapping.

I trust him completely. That’s the unmistakable truth confirmed by my current location. If I didn’t have total faith in this man, being incapacitated by him wouldn’t feel this right.

“Someday, we’ll do this in the real world, but for today, we must do it here.” His words are brokenly uttered through fits of roars and other indescribable gnashing sounds.

At first, I don’t understand his meaning, but then his alpha force impacts me, and my consciousness is abruptly transported from this pool below a cabin in the mountains to my beloved garden.

Poised on the border of the overgrowing space—its fragrance so thick, I taste it on my tongue—I stare at the clearing that holds the standing stones.

From here, I’m easily able to decipher the mystery of how these trials can happen without threatening my safety in the real world.

I get virtual reality old ways trials. But this virtual reality is like nothing that exists with actual technology, because I somehow believe the cool grass beneath my feet will leave stains, the trees and brush I race through will score my skin, and the raunchy fucking will be on a real, punishingly enormous cock—that last part better be real.

When I realize I’m quivering in Ory’s grip, I’m surprised by the source of my chaotic emotions.

I duck my chin and bite Ory’s hand that’s near my neck, gnawing on him, demanding to be freed, the primal stirring within me.

I snarl and hear it echo through the basement, but it’s also echoing here in the mythic land that existed at the beginning of the omegaverse.

A low rumble is the counterpoint to my snarl, and I sense more than know what Ory’s demanding.

See the land. Feel the breeze. Smell all the growing things.

Taste the mist. Embrace the illusion. If I hold myself apart from this, using my mind to create separation—clinging to logic and reason that don’t belong here—I will fail to learn the lessons this place offers to teach.

I can do this. I can forget the pool. The basement.

My alphas upstairs. I can even release the life I’ve lived.

I can… I will . Ory’s growl continues, low, long, and full, reminding me of the thread that already binds us to each other.

The first alpha to the last omega—no, that’s wrong.

I’m not the last omega of an old era. I’m the first omega of a new age, just like I thought.

Oh… I finally see it. What the origin omega saw and knew, what fueled her commitment to do what she did. She couldn’t exist in me anymore, trapping me in the past, because that’s not where I ever belonged. She was the origin omega of her time. I’m the origin omega of mine.

I recognize the truth about Ory just like she did—why he’s here with me and not gone from the world with her. Ory never belonged to her. He always belonged to me. He was the right alpha, and she was the wrong omega—that’s what she said.

I can almost hear her voice saying, You’re his heart’s true home.

Fuck, yes, I am. I’m his rightful mate—I’ve always been his rightful mate—and he’s endured all this time waiting for me, for us, for everything we will be and build together.

Now, I will prove that to him with everything I am.

But first, I dig my teeth into his hand, tearing at him, tasting his blood, while he purrs his pleasure to be claimed by his feral mate.

Blood rites… blood bonds… blood vows.

Reason is snuffed out like a candle exposed to the storm, dragging reality with it into the void where extinguished flames await their chance to burn once more.

Everything that is Tillie Harrison vanishes, and a primal omega is awakened.

The landscape is dark, but the sky is lit up like a million fireworks exploded and then refused to dim.

But these stars aren’t decorations for dreamy mortals—they’re a map.

The night is anything but quiet as crickets sing, animals scuff the earth near us, and somewhere, a river runs.

I sniff the air, learning more about the geography and its flora and fauna than my eyes could ever observe.

I taste the coming dawn, just like the sea that’s near us, its saltiness easing my swiftly expanding and contracting lungs.

I could locate the ocean with my eyes shut, just as I could claim a meal with my bare hands by diving below its surface.

The musky scents of animals filter into my awareness, though I don’t know them by their sounds or smells.

It’s my senses that warn of their danger, more than my mind or experience.

My mate’s arms surround me, forming a cage that will be opened when the first light of the sun reaches us.

We stand within the circle of standing stones that project from the ground like a sandstone crown atop the world.

Royalty proclaimed using the stuff of the earth beneath us, just like us, no better, no worse, all connected.

My teeth mash together as my body radiates its anxiousness to enter the hunt, to be hunted, to prove my worth in evading my mate. My smaller body feels no less powerful than the man whose massive arms encase me, while his rumbling growls tease me with their brutal promise.

When the sun’s rays strike me, I both wince and bolt beyond the stones, racing toward the field of grass that reaches my thighs.

I leap onto and over rocks on my way to the forest that provides the only true shelter.

My hunter’s breathing reaches my ears just before his hand swipes against me, pitching me to the mud where I land rough but don’t remain.

I’m up again, wearing the soil as my only clothing, barreling across a creek, its water freezing but welcome.

The mist rolls in but provides no protection from this predator who easily tracks me by scent.

I’m in the woods, the branches an endless maze that traps me as surely as it conceals me.

Tearing through the bramble, its fruit stains my flesh.

My hunter seems to be everywhere at once, his scent too familiar to guide me toward or away from him.

It’s as though my lungs drink his fragrance because he’s the only air I need.

When dizziness waves through me, I realize I fasted in preparation for this trial, readying myself to honor my warrior mate.

I’ve evaded him. I’m concealed within a hollowed-out tree when the next phase of my trial strikes without warning. I grip my belly and then lower, biting my lip to withhold a whine as the pain coils, desire expanding, my slick dripping down my legs and feeding the dirt that is my origin.

Finally, I can’t hold it in anymore. I keen wildly, my body—my fierce body—suddenly weak, my legs faltering.

Still, I lunge to escape the hunter, whose growls follow me wherever I go.

I slam into bark and branches, tearing my flesh in this frantic dance.

I trip over the exposed roots of trees older than time.

I crash again, clenching my body as uncontrollable undulations rock through me, making flight of any kind impossible.

But I will not stop. I can’t. I can’t disappoint him.

I can’t make him less by being less. I must be more. For him. For me. For us and our bond.

I’m on my hands and knees crawling recklessly when a new agony lands in the form of a switch.

He strikes me mercilessly, the cruel stinging impacting my back, my hips, my legs, as I continue to hurl myself forward, knowing I must reach the standing stones again.

My slick gushes now as my wails refuse to be restrained.

My body is nowhere near large enough to contain this ever-expanding desperation for completion.

The switch thrashes my butt, throwing me face first into the dirt.

On my belly, I flail as I struggle to rise.

When I manage to find my way to my feet, I’m hunched, unable to stand straight with so much pain possessing me and carnal hunger torturing me.

But I still move. I will show him. I will show them all.

I see it. The stones. The crown. My place.

When I reach it at last, I tumble to the ground.

This time, he’s on me, raring for a fight, one I will give him.

Even a downed creature can maul an enemy.

I shove him. Bite him. Kick and tear. I rip and claw, snarling all the while.

I will show him the warrior that lives in my veins, like a flooded river breaking dams with its rage against all control.

He’s everywhere, undefeatable, glorious and proud, pinning me only to release me again, as I grapple more wildly than any beast that moves on four legs.

Dressed now in the perfect unity of the earth’s gifts and my own body’s blood, sweat, slick, and tears, I remember the truth of this trial.

That the power of all life dwells within these stone sentinels that preside over us here, judging our worth to take space and resources in this world.

To always remember the old ways that teach us that life must be lived with a demanding heart and a soul that comprehends silent strength.

But this ritual is more than that. It’s about me and my mate, and the union of our souls that must clash often, so as not to forget our duties to our mission and our pack.

This battling is required because love untested weakens from the absence of strain, becoming soft and nurturing—two forms of poison to true leaders.

We inflict this torment on each other for the good of all.

At last, I recall my final duty to the bonds that define my life, and sacrifice my pride to my mate who will always cherish my surrender.

Panting, coughing, weary and worn, I bow my head, whimpers released to humble me more, as I rest my forehead on the cool, torn grass.

My mate’s fingers dig into my flesh, jerking me back, spreading me wide, and taking me with a vengeance.

The sounds he rings from me are more feral than any animal could issue, his pounding thrusts acts of delicious violence, my insides as abused as my outsides now.

His unrestrained drives inspire a scream the stones drink, because raw honesty is what they crave.

Not pretty lies or deception. Truth—only ugly, beautiful truths satiate their ancient appetites.

His savage cock claims me so deeply, I can’t breathe.

Gulping and crying, my arms too weak to hold me, my face meets the ground again.

With nowhere to go in such a small channel, his knot ruthlessly swells, summoning a shriek from me as high pitched as any wounded creature.

But just beyond that, the euphoria sets upon me like magic, delivering me from all that binds me in this life.

I’m suddenly able to see. To fly with the vision of hawks and eagles that sail through the air above us, untroubled by the affairs of envious humans who can only dream of vistas and such dramatic shifts in perspective.

I’m with them now, soaring but grounded too, the best of both worlds.

Heaven, earth, and everything in between.

Then it’s here, my punishment and my prize.

Through the stones emerges the tones of ascension, the music that lives and links all life in every form.

A symphony so radiant, I’m lost in bliss and wonder, more and less than I’ve ever been.

More connected and less separate than seems possible.

Painful purity seizes me as my mate claims me forever, his teeth digging into my flesh in the most vulnerable place.

He bites again and again, creating shapes I may never know unless a still lake is kind enough to share my reflection.

No matter the design, just knowing it came from him and made me his… that’s all that matters.

The sun is departing the sky, the day ending more pleasurably than it began, when he holds me in his arms, his purr sending me into slumber. I have no fears left. Though my body is covered in dirt, blood, slick, grass, and his seed, I am clean at last.

Free and claimed.

Ready for all that comes next.