Page 11 of Operation: CuddleDom (The Port Haven Omegaverse #9)

THEO

“No, no,” Justice grabbed my fist. “The power comes from your hips. Non-dominant foot forward. The movement starts here. Your shoulders follow, and all that energy goes through your arm as you extend and into your fist. Try again.”

I shook out my arm, then raised my fists and stepped into the punch.

“You’re still punching with just your arm,” Ren said, circling around me. “Here.” He positioned himself behind me, placed his hands on my hips, and turned them slightly. “When you throw the punch, twist here.” He demonstrated the motion, rotating my hips the right way. “Feel that?”

I nodded, trying to absorb the mechanics of it.

“Again,” he stepped back, joining Justice against the whitewashed cinderblock wall.

I took a breath, reset my stance, focused on my hips, and threw another punch.

“Better,” Justice said, smiling. “Do it again.”

I repeated the motion several times, each punch felt more natural. After a dozen attempts of fighting nothing but the air, I stepped back, shaking out my hand. Maybe I was clenching my fist too hard? At least they didn’t have to tell me not to tuck my thumb inside.

“Is this something all alphas learn automatically?” I asked, “Like, boom, your aura presents and you just know how to fight? Do they give out free boxing lessons or something?”

Justice and Ren exchanged a look that contained an entire private conversation.

“No,” Ren said, “but when your aura presents, your hormones go crazy. You turn into a bit of an asshole for a while.”

“A bit?” Justice raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. A major asshole,” Ren conceded. “You get into a lot of fights. It’s why the life expectancy of an alpha is shorter than a beta or omega.”

“A lot of young alphas die when they first present,” Justice added, his voice dropping into something more serious. “Fighting and fucking are the only real ways to deal with rut.”

“And you can’t always fuck,” Ren said. “So, fighting it is.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead. “Does it fade? That need to fight?”

“No,” Justice said, shaking his head. “You just find ways to deal with it, channel it into other things.”

I had never really thought about what it was like to become an alpha.

Perfuming was totally different from presenting.

I had never wanted to fight. I had never thrown a punch before the cruise.

After the cruise? I totally got the desire to take someone apart with your bare hands. A realization dawned on me.

I turned to my alpha. “The rock climbing?”

Justice was silent for a second, and then nodded. “That’s part of it. The rush, the danger… it satisfies something primal without requiring me to smash someone’s face in.”

“I lift weights,” Ren added, flexing unconsciously. “Heavy things. Repeatedly.”

“That’s why he’s built like that, and you get to enjoy the six-pack abs,” Justice said with a smirk.

Ren winked at me. “Perks of pack life.” They fist bumped. They were criminally pretty. Ren was broad and almost beefy, but chiseled. Justice was just as powerful, but wiry. I had to stop devouring them with my eyes. Now was not a time to get horny.

“As a CEO, I just can’t go around beating up assholes,” Justice said, sounding almost regretful.

I turned to look at the third alpha in the room, who had been silently watching from the door. Maybe he didn’t think his punching advice was necessary. He wore all black. The suit was gorgeous and fit him like a glove.

“I just beat up assholes,” Nico said, his voice deep and even. He gave a casual shrug.

Ren laughed at that, a full-throated sound that echoed in the basement.

“Alright, let’s see a few more practice punches,” Justice said. “Then we can move on.”

I threw several more punches, each one feeling more powerful. We should have prepared better. Maybe I could get them to take me to a real boxing gym. That wasn’t the kind of place omegas could just show up at on their own.

“I think I’m ready.”

I stepped forward and shook out my arms.

I cocked my arm back, but Ren caught it before I could swing. “Lower,” he said, moving my arm. “Body shots are better. The face has too many bones, and I don’t want you to hurt your hands.”

He guided me to the position. “Here,” he said, pointing to a spot on the ribs. “Or here, for the kidneys. Maximum effect.”

I nodded, my heart racing. I took a deep breath and threw the punch.

Daryl grunted, a scream muffled by the silver duct tape.

He was hanging by his wrists from a chain in the ceiling, feet barely touching the ground. His face was already swollen, one eye purpled shut. Blood trickled from his nose down to his chin.

My fist connected with his side again. The impact jarred up my arm, but the sound he made, a choked gasp of pain, was deeply satisfying.

Something inside me snapped. All the rage I’d been holding back since the cruise, since watching Mackenzie try to pretend she wasn’t terrified, since learning what he’d done to her during heat.

How even now, she second guessed herself.

She had agonized over the cockwarming conversation for a solid week.

All of it, all the rage came pouring out.

I hit him again. And again. My fists found his ribs, his stomach, his sides. I added my pain to it. Each punch carried years of my own frustrations, my pain at being overlooked, dismissed, unwanted.

But mostly, I hit him for her.

For every time he made her feel small. For every time he controlled what she ate and made her feel fat. For every time he made her believe she wasn’t good enough.

I wasn’t aware of stopping. At some point, my arms just wouldn’t work anymore. My knuckles were raw. I was panting, air tearing through my lungs.

Daryl hung limply from his chains, his breath coming in wet, ragged gasps.

“Feel better?” Ren asked, sliding his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. I nodded, unable to speak. My whole body was shaking. But it didn’t really make me feel better. Being held by my alpha did.

Nico pushed off the wall and assessed Daryl with a critical eye. Then he completely dismissed him.

“I think we should head upstairs to the Vig for drinks,” he said, breaking the heavy silence. “And get your omega some ice for his hands.”

Nico Front, owner of the Pax nightclub complex in the Mired District, one of the scariest alphas I’d ever met, smiled at me. Like he was proud.

Justice wrapped an arm around me, guiding me away from Daryl. “Nice punch,” he said softly.

“What about him?” I managed to ask, glancing back.

Nico sniffed and tugged at his cuffs. “He can enjoy the hospitality of the Pax for a little bit longer. His pack ditched him. I want to see if they come back.”

We left him there, bleeding in the dark. I should have felt guilty. Maybe that would hit tomorrow.

As we climbed the stairs, club music pounded through the walls. Justice was keeping pace with Nico, and Ren had a hand on my back.

Mackenzie was having a girls’ night with her best friend, Jillian.

Our plan had been to just chill and play video games when Justice got a call.

Ren had been wary when Justice excused himself.

That didn’t happen often. He came back and said Nico Front had Daryl in a security room at the Pax and wanted to know if we wanted to pay him a visit.

I hadn’t expected that they would take me with them.

I flexed my hands. Ice was probably a really good idea.

We entered the Vig from the staff door in the back. It was the exclusive VIP bar inside the Pax, and it was mostly empty when we walked in. The space was all polished wood and leather, with low lighting that somehow made everything look expensive.

A tall man in a tailored suit crossed the room toward us, his presence commanding attention.

“Justice, good to see you,” he said, shaking Justice’s hand.

“Star, thanks for letting us use the space downstairs,” Justice replied. “You know Ren. This is my omega, Theo.”

Star Knightbridge. The Star Knightbridge. We had met him briefly that first night at Sanctum. I would never get over how Justice knew all the famous people in Port Haven.

He nodded at me but didn’t extend his hand. Most alphas didn’t touch other alphas’ omegas. It usually annoyed me to no end. Treating omegas like breakable prizes was obnoxious. Now, there was an odd sense of pride. I was Justice’s omega and that meant something to people like Star.

“Come sit with me,” Star said, leading us to a curved booth in the corner. Nico whispered something in Star’s ear and stepped away. Justice seated me between him and Ren. Their solid warmth on either side kicked off that small, marshmallow feeling.

A server appeared almost instantly with a tray of cocktails.

“So,” Star said, settling into business mode, “we should have dinner some night. I’d like your input on some revitalization projects for the Mired District. Small business initiatives, that sort of thing.”

“I’d be interested.” Justice sipped his cocktail.

Nico came back to the table. He put his hand on Star’s shoulder as Star made space for him.

Oh. They were pack mates. The thought was slightly terrifying.

One look at Nico and you knew he was dangerous.

Star? He was pretty, stylish. Drool worthy.

But you could see violence simmering behind his cocky grin.

Nico handed me two blue ice packs and snapped open a heavy cotton napkin.

“Thank you,” I said softly, curling the ice pack around my fist. I sighed. It felt good. Justice squeezed my knee under the table.

“I thought gambling was Win’s racket,” Ren said, pointing to the posters scattered across the table. They were print proofs, so not finalized designs.

Star nodded, spreading out a stack of posters on the table.

“We’re looking to replace some lost income from canceling most of the illegal fight nights.

Poker nights instead.” He tapped one of the posters showing a stylized image of poker chips and playing cards with “KNIGHTbrIDGE HIGH STAKES” emblazoned across the top.

“You should come consult for us, Ren,” Star said, “rather than working for my brother Win. The pay and hours would be better.”

Ren took a sip of his drink. “I’ll talk to my pack about it.” I could tell Ren was interested, but wasn’t going to commit to anything.

I studied the posters, my brow furrowing as I took in the designs. They were sleek, professional… and aggressively alpha.

“Something wrong with them?” Star asked, noticing my scrutiny.

I looked up. All the alphas were staring at me.

I took a deep breath. I had just beat an alpha up. Granted, he was tied up, but still. I could give an honest opinion.

“They’re very alpha-coded,” I said, pulling one closer. “They won’t appeal to betas, certainly not omegas. That’s a missed opportunity.”

Star’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s interesting.” he drawled. “How so?”

“Betas would love a way to show up alphas that doesn’t result in broken bones and bleeding,” I continued, flexing my bruised hand. “Poker evens the playing field. It’s about strategy, not strength.”

“He’s right,” Nico said, leaning forward.

“And if you added an omega-only night,” I said, the idea forming as I spoke, “you could make a lot of money.”

Star looked skeptical. “How do you figure?”

“Male omegas have tons of disposable income,” I explained.

“Most of us work and we keep our income. It’s kind of tradition that male omegas have pack money and their own money.

So male omegas in packs have lots of cash in their pockets.

There are so few safe spaces for male omegas, and most things for omegas are pink and girlie.

” I echoed something I had heard Justice say a lot.

Star sat back to evaluate me, spinning a ring on his index finger. He was gorgeous and totally fucking intimidating. Fuck it. I had opened my mouth. I was going for it.

I tapped the poster. “Not catering to male omegas would be another missed opportunity. And you could run a PR angle, make it a fundraiser for a good cause.”

Star stared at me for a long moment, then looked at Justice. “Where did you find him?”

“On a cruise,” Justice said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“You’d have to start with an omega-only night first, though.”

“Why is that?” Nico asked.

I licked my lips. This could be a touchy subject. “Alphas are assholes. Especially when they are losing. And casinos are not a safe space for omegas who are susceptible to an alpha bark. Most omegas have never played in an actual casino setting. Online play is a lot different from in-person.”

Star shook his head, looking genuinely impressed. “You want a job too, Theo?”

I blinked, surprised. “I, uh…”

“He’s taken,” Justice said, his voice dark and eerie. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and gave me an instant hardon. He was doing something with his aura.

Star addressed Justice, and Justice only. “I’m serious. I want both of their input. Their professional expertise.”

Justice was stone cold, and didn’t move a muscle.

“For pay, not for favors,” Star added. “I am not my brother.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was enough to bring Justice down a notch.

“We’ll talk about it.”

“Excellent.” Star called over the server who must have been waiting in the wings with a platter of appetizers and more drinks.

“Tell me,” Star nudged one of the posters towards me, “How is this alpha-coded? I thought it bold and elegant.”

I rolled my eyes. “Black and red?” I offered. For whatever reason, that was the default alpha color scheme. “It’s over done and kind of tacky. Bold, serif, all-caps font? This is the design equivalent to a screaming hard-on and an inflated ego.”

Star laughed and slumped back casually, looking more like a rich playboy than a questionable business man.

“Fuck,” he nodded at Justice, “our omegas can never meet.”