Page 12 of Lost Wolf (Exiled Omegas #2)

Twelve

Omega

Luke gets out of the bed and pulls on a crumpled pair of pants he picks up from the floor. He glances at me, then grabs a small duffel bag from behind the chair he was sitting in earlier and digs through it.

“My stuff is going to be way too big on you, but you can’t exactly go down there naked. I’m pretty sure my wolf would have a fit,” he says as he searches through the bag.

I raise my brows. “Why?”

A pink tinge creeps across his cheeks. “Our bond is not only extremely new, it’s not complete yet, so my instincts are going a little haywire,” he replies. “Doc—the guy whose house this is—he’s only part of my pack on a technicality. I don’t know him very well, and I’m not sure that my wolf won’t view Doc as a threat.”

“I see.” I slip off the bed, my bare feet thumping against the hardwood floor as I walk over to Luke. “So, what you’re saying, it’s a possessive alpha thing?”

Luke grins at me. “Pretty much.”

I give him a cheeky smile as I take the stack of clothes he hands me. “Then I guess I’ll have to cover up.”

As expected, none of the clothes even come close to fitting me. The bottom of the sweatpants pools on the floor and the shoulder seams on the T-shirt droop almost to my elbows, my torso swimming in fabric.

Luke’s gaze moves up and down my body, and my cheeks heat. “I like you in my clothes,” he says, his voice gruff as he steps closer. He leans down and takes a deep breath near my neck. “You smell like me, like us.”

A shiver goes down my spine and the back of my neck tingles as his breath brushes across my skin. If this is the kind of attention it gets me, I like me in his clothes too. Except for the fact that I’m probably going to trip over all the excess fabric and fall flat on my face.

Luke pulls back, eyes dark with hunger as he traces a finger over my collarbone. “How far down does this pretty blush spread?”

“Um… I have no idea.” I say, heat building low in my stomach. “But I don’t think we have time to find out now.”

He chuckles. “Well, we at least have time to figure something out so you can walk without tripping.”

He reaches toward my waist, pausing a moment to check in with me before gently tugging the T-shirt up. His fingers brush across my skin as he tightens the tie at the top of the sweatpants, sending a flare of heat through me, and his eyes darken again. He rolls the waistband a few times until the bottoms are no longer covering my feet, then releases me, letting the T-shirt fall back into place, the new bulge around my middle making it look like I just had a huge meal.

At the thought of food, my stomach growls, breaking the slight tension between us and making both of us laugh.

“Hungry?” asks Luke, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Starving.”

“That might be a little more accurate than I’d like.” His lips turn down. “Let’s get some food in you.”

He takes my hand, giving it a quick squeeze, before leading me out into the hall. We make our way downstairs to the kitchen where two people—two beta shifters—are sitting at a small table. As we enter the room, my fingers involuntarily tighten around Luke’s and I slide slightly behind him, the comfort I feel with Luke not extending to the two strangers.

The female, Macy, who I caught a glimpse of earlier, rises from her chair and tilts her head to the side. She appears to be around my age with blue eyes and dark hair pulled back into a low braid.

The male is older, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He must be the “Doc” Luke was talking about. He also stands up and dips his chin.

“Alpha,” he says, keeping his eyes lowered.

Luke sighs. “I already told you to drop the formal crap. Just sit down.”

The formal crap? My chest tightens and I glance between Luke and the other two shifters. My mate isn’t just an alpha—a designation my brain tells me is held by maybe five percent of shifters—he’s an Alpha with a capital A, as in the leader of a pack. A flare of anxiety I can’t explain rushes through me, and Luke turns to me, brows drawn together. It takes all my willpower to fight my instinct to drop his hand and shy away from him.

Before either of us have a chance to question my weird reaction, my stomach lets out a loud gurgle and my strange agitation recedes.

Luke squeezes my hand, then turns his attention back to Doc. “My mate needs food. Do you have anything we can make a meal out of?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Doc hops up again and scurries over to the cabinets, opening one and pulling down a single can of what might be soup.

Macy stands and walks over to Doc, taking the can from his hand. She rolls her eyes. “Do you have anything that’s not filled with sodium and preservatives?”

Doc's brows draw together. “Maybe?”

She shakes her head and walks over to the fridge. I can't see inside from where I am, but from the wrinkle in her nose it must not be good. She glances at Doc. “What do you normally eat?”

Doc's gaze slides to the can. “I'm not much of a cook.”

“Wait a second,” says Luke. “Are you telling me that you've been living off of canned soup since…”

He shrugs. “Like I said. I'm not much of a cook. I mostly order takeout.”

“I’m not much a cook either,” says Macy in a droll voice. “But I’m not feeding my Alpha Mate that processed crap.” She rustles around in the fridge for a moment before pulling out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread, then turns to me holding the items up. “This good?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice soft. “Thank you.”

She waves me off and starts preparing the food as Luke leads me to the table and sits, pulling me into his lap. His hold grounds me, and I’m glad for the contact, my mind spinning as it tries to piece together memories I don’t have to find a reason why the idea of Luke being an Alpha is so distressing.

But the longer I go without being able to figure it out, the faster my mind spins.

A plate clatters against the table as Macy sets it down in front of me, startling me out of my rapidly spiraling anxiety.

Her mouth tilts upward. “It’s not much, but it should help with that rumbling.”

“Thank you,” I say again, the statement punctuated with another grumble from my stomach.

She grins. “Eat up, um…” Her brows pull together. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Uh…” I start, unsure how to explain. My gaze slides to Luke.

“He doesn’t know,” says Luke. “That’s the big complication. He doesn’t remember anything from before the lab. Not his name. Not his pack. Nothing.”

“The lab ?” Doc’s eyes widen and he stares at me with interest. “That’s where you were being held? What kind?”

I shrug, poking at the scrambled eggs on my plate with a fork. “A human one?”

Luke sputters, and Doc’s brows rise practically into his hairline. “A human lab? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” I reply. “I never smelled any other shifters there anyway.”

“You didn’t say.” Luke lets his words trail off. “Did they know what you are?”

“Yeah,” I say. “They were well aware.”

Luke winces. “If there’s a chance of exposure, then we’re almost definitely going to have to call the triumvirate.”

“Is there anyone we can trust there?” asks Macy, frowning.

“Maybe the two praetorians who helped Keir out in Chicago? They seemed okay.”

“If you think you can trust them, it’s probably best to get in contact with them directly,” says Doc. “I don’t know if revealing the existence of another male omega to the triumvirate as a whole is entirely wise, especially one with no pack ties.”

A growl vibrates in Luke’s chest. “He has pack ties. He’s my fated mate.”

“I’m aware of that,” says Doc. “But you haven’t claimed him yet and, as you know, things can get rather dicey when it comes to male omegas being viewed more as commodities than people. Almost every Alpha who figured out what Keir was wanted him for some reason or another, whether to sell him based on the outdated superstition that omegas bring prosperity or to use him to get an alpha heir. Imagine if that Alpha in Chicago or, fates forbid, my brother, had the power of the triumvirate behind them. Do you think Keir would still be with Julien?”

Luke’s grip on me tightens, as if I might suddenly disappear. “You’re right,” he says finally. “I’ll try to track down a way to reach Smith or Yang without alerting the entire triumvirate.”

I have nothing to add since I don’t remember what the triumvirate is—if I ever knew—so I finish the eggs and start in on the toast as Doc and Luke continue discussing possibilities. Once the plate is empty, I lean back into Luke’s chest and let myself relax a little.

But not for long, as Doc turns his attention to me.

“Did the humans ever see you shift?” he asks.

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

He studies my face. “Did you ever try to shift?” I shake my head again and his eyes narrow. “Why not?”

I open my mouth, but no response forms on my tongue. Why didn’t I try to shift? It seems like that would have made escape much easier. “I… don’t know.”

Doc purses his lips and his gaze darts to Luke. “The humans never actually seeing him shift is a good thing, but the fact that he never tried to shift concerns me.”

“Why?” asks Luke, his hold on my waist tightening again.

“There aren’t many circumstances under which a shifter wouldn’t think to even attempt a shift when facing danger.” He glances at me, then back to Luke. “Given his earlier reaction to you being an Alpha, I think an Alpha command might explain why he was stuck as a wolf.”

Luke tenses. “Are you suggesting an Alpha commanded him to shift into a wolf and be docile for the humans?”

“Not exactly,” replies Doc. “I'm merely saying that a command may have been what caused him to shift in the first place and, if there was enough power behind it, that command held until another Alpha— you were able to counteract it.”

“No,” says Luke. “I’ve never heard of an Alpha command lasting that long.”

Doc shrugs. “Some of Zachariah’s commands could last weeks if he did them right.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that Zachariah was able to keep an entire pack in line using Alpha command?”

Doc makes a seesaw motion with his hand. “Not quite. He could command basic obedience from everyone for over a month as long as he kept it simple and he could control individuals or small groups more precisely, but only over shorter periods of time.”

“Is that your excuse for what you did to Keir?” asks Luke, his voice cold and hard. “That your brother was controlling you?”

“No,” says Doc, his gaze darting to the floor. “I have no excuse for that and I’m not saying Zachariah was controlling me. Well, not in the way you think.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I'm not sure how familiar you are with the actual science behind Alpha command, but it tends to work better on people who… might not think for themselves much anyway,” he says. “Small minds take less effort and are more susceptible to command. Zachariah couldn't control me, but he could control those around me. He treated me more like a useful prisoner than his brother.” His gaze moves to me. “Shifters in wolf form are also more susceptible to command. It might be one of the reasons the humans kept you drugged, to be sure the command stayed in place.” He shrugs. “I could very well be wrong about the human’s motives, but I think the Alpha command aspect is something to consider.”

“I guess you have a point,” says Luke. He sighs and pulls me closer so my back is resting against his chest. “But we don’t need to figure it all out tonight. I think we should try to get some rest and then we can plan our next steps in the morning. It's been a long day.” He rubs his cheek over my hair. “For all of us.”