Page 17 of The Night Movers: Season One

Ridley sat there, completely frozen, afraid to so much as breathe, waiting for one of them to come fetch him from the staircase and yell at him for eavesdropping. Instead, the conversation picked up again.

“Is this really the hill we want to die on?” Steele asked, no longer sounding angry but more…

resigned, maybe. “I’m serious. Like, I get that how we treat him is our business, but do we want to draw this type of attention by standing out like that?

We’re supposed to be the worst of the worst. The shit they think we do to omegas and anyone who crosses us is downright demonic. ”

Ridley heaved a relieved breath.

“Then imagine what they’ll think of him?” Ryker said. “If we claim him as our own and don’t treat him like he’s a fucking pet, they’ll wonder what the fuck he did to earn our respect, no? They might even be afraid of him.”

“Or they’ll think there’s something so special about him, they’ll want to take him from us,” Sugar said.

“If he’s marked and claimed, they can wish all they want, but if they hurt him, they’re fucking dead.

And not just to the other packs, they’re dead for real because we’ll fucking kill them and we’ll make it so violent and bloody that nobody will ever make the mistake of thinking they can take what’s ours again,” Jensen said.

Goosebumps rose on Ridley’s arms. These men definitely belonged to him. Five hours in and some of them were already preparing to go to war to protect him. Imagine them in five days or five months…or five years.

“You’re not seriously considering this proposal, are you?” Sugar asked, looking at Titus incredulously.

“What fucking choice do I have?” Titus fired back. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears. What do we do with him?”

Sugar growled. “This is so fucked.”

“Is it, though?” Diesel asked, giving him a look.

“He’s ours. Or…we’re his. Whatever language helps you sleep at night.

He smells like ours. He smells like pack.

You can claim him and not sleep with him if you feel that strongly about it, but if you say you don’t know he’s ours, you’re lying to yourself. Both of you.”

“I take it you plan on taking advantage of all the benefits that come with claiming an omega?” Ryker asked, amused, knotting his hands in Jensen’s hair, tugging it playfully as he grinned at Diesel.

“As long as that’s what Strawberry wants,” Diesel said.

“Hell, yeah. He smells incredible and his skin is so soft. And he gets so fucking wet and whiny when he’s begging for a knot.

He isn’t the least bit shy about asking for what he wants either.

If you guys don’t want him, that’s fine.

I can keep him perfectly happy on my own. ”

Ridley hid his smile behind his fist, his whole body flushing at Diesel’s assessment of his attributes. If he wasn’t in pre-heat, he might have found Diesel’s rundown insulting. Instead, it set off bubbles in his blood.

Sure, he was far more than just a horny omega looking for a knot.

He was smart and strategic and a survivor.

But none of that mattered if he didn’t have a pack.

If playing the submissive was what the pack needed to agree to claiming him, he could do that.

He had no problem being the docile submissive omega in bed.

His omega instincts already had him ready to beg and plead, and it wasn’t like Ridley had any past experiences to fall back on anyway.

They could do as they pleased with him in bed.

But only in bed.

“Nobody said they didn’t want him,” Titus said, shaking his head. “Stop being dramatic.”

“Do you want him?” Steele asked, studying Titus carefully.

If Titus had hackles, they’d have stood at attention. Instead, his shoulders went up around his ears and his face flushed red. “Is there anyone in this room who doesn’t want him?” Titus countered, his tone defensive. “And don’t lie, we’ll all know.”

Ridley’s omega preened, hearing that they thought he was pretty.

He knew he was rare. That was why they’d taken him in the first place.

It was probably why they’d taken Ren when they’d seen her as well.

But hearing it out loud, by six men who—by any standards—were genetically superior to most, if not all, other alphas almost made him forget why he was doing all this.

Almost.

“It’s just biology,” Sugar mumbled.

“You’re full of shit. He’s really pretty,” Ryker said.

“And really small,” Jensen added, bringing his hands together with about a foot of space between them.

Okay, that was a bit much. He was on the small side, but most omegas were. That was hardly something he could control.

“And I kind of like his smart mouth,” Diesel said, his amusement obvious. “He sort of just says whatever he’s thinking, consequences be damned. I think he’s gonna scare the shit out of people.”

“Then you deal with the consequences the first time he mouths off to someone from Dagon’s or Magdalena’s crews,” Titus muttered.

“You didn’t seem to mind his mouth when your tongue was in it,” Diesel countered, smirking.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking even entertaining this idea. He’s so dangerous,” Steele snapped.

“Or maybe he just scares you?” Diesel mused. “We know you haven’t gotten laid in years. Afraid you’ve forgotten how to keep an omega happy?”

Steele growled at him, jaw snapping.

“Enough,” Titus snapped. “What we’re not going to do is fall apart over some omega.”

Some omega? Wow. Titus really was a dick sometimes. He hated how much his omega loved that.

“He’s perfectly fine with being…shared,” Titus said, sounding like the final word stuck in his throat. “But he decides who, what, where, when, and how. That’s hardly unreasonable.”

“You know the sex isn’t the problem,” Sugar said. “Like, he’s been in our lives for five hours and we’re already fighting about this.”

“No, you’re fighting,” Diesel said. “Right now, I’d venture to guess that the vote is four against two in his favor. Maybe you should talk to him before you decide he’s not worth the risk.”

“Should we do that during his heat or after?” Sugar quipped.

“That’s another thing. What are we going to do about things like his heat if he’s not on suppressants or birth control?” Steele asked. “We can’t just shut down for a week to service some needy little omega.”

Ridley made a face. They should all be so lucky to spend a week servicing him.

Diesel snorted. “There are six of us. I’m fairly certain we could work out a schedule to make sure Strawberry is one hundred percent satisfied without throwing off our whole week.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like we can’t get him birth control at the night market. They sell fucking everything there,” Ryker said.

“And suppressants?” Sugar asked.

Ryker shrugged. “If he wants those, sure.”

“He’d better want them. We can’t afford to have him going into heat every eight weeks or so,” Steele said, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s…inconvenient.”

Ryker snorted. “Inconvenient?”

Steele shot him a look. “Yes, inconvenient. Omegas are inconvenient. They’re moody and whiny and emotional. They want attention all the time. They get in the way of work and they start fights between alphas for attention.”

“What the fuck?” Ridley snapped, standing up to glare at the blond alpha.

They looked shocked to see him standing there. But nobody was more shocked than Ridley himself. But it was too late to retreat now. Besides, he had some things he needed to say to Steele.

He wrapped his blanket tighter around himself, feeling it billow around him as the wind caught it as he stomped up the stairs and into the open space, stopping right in front of Steele, who blinked down at him.

Ridley glared at him, shoving his finger into his unnecessarily muscular chest as he spoke. “Omegas are emotional?” he raged. “ You’ve been having a temper tantrum for the last thirty minutes. Whining and crying because an omega wants to let you fuck him. Boo-fucking-hoo, asshole.”

Ryker cackled and Steele started to speak. “I?—”

Ridley cut him off. “And how is an omega in heat any more inconvenient than an alpha in rut? Oh, wait. They’re not. And you want to talk about moody? Alphas have destroyed buildings in rut. They’ve gone on killing sprees when they couldn’t get their knots wet.”

“Okay, I get?—”

Ridley poked him harder, talking over him. “When was the last time you heard of an omega going crazy and maiming an alpha? When was the last time you heard of a gang of omegas getting together to terrorize alphas?”

Ridley could see Diesel out of the corner of his eye.

He was practically dancing on his feet, a huge grin on his face, arms crossed over his chest. Diesel would protect him if necessary, but Ridley didn’t even care.

He’d be damned if he was going to listen to some alpha talk about how omegas were the problem.

Ridley slowed his words, enunciating each one as his heart raced.

“When was the last time a group of omegas got together to overthrow a government so they could subjugate an entire secondary gender because being a decent human was just too hard?” Ridley punched Steele in the chest, the pain reverberating through his wrist as the larger man blinked down at him.

“Oh, right. Never. Because we’re not the fucking problem. ”

By the time he stopped talking, he was panting, a thin coat of sweat covering his skin beneath the blanket.

“Whoa,” Ryker said, sounding awed.

“I know, right?” Diesel said, like Ridley had just performed a magic trick.

“Breathe, Strawberry,” Titus said, setting a hand on the back of his head. “Retract the claws. Steele didn’t mean anything by that. He just runs his mouth without thinking.”

The last sentence was directed at Steele, who was still studying Ridley, face expressionless. If not for the way his nostrils flared with each breath, Ridley might have thought he hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

“No, fuck that,” Ridley said, voice firm. “Apologize.”

Steele snorted. “No.”

Titus’s fingers tightened on the back of Ridley’s head.

A warning, maybe. Ridley didn’t care. He’d be damned if some alpha was going to talk to him like that.

Consequences be damned was right. He tilted his head, giving Steele a disgusted once-over.

“Would you have given that little speech to your mom? Your sisters?” he asked.

“Or were they the only omegas you respected?”

Steele stumbled back two steps like Ridley had hit him, blinking rapidly.

“Oh-kay,” Diesel said, clearly tagging in to help Titus defuse the situation.

“Sorry,” Steele muttered.

“What?” Ridley said. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I’m…” He huffed out another angry breath through his nose, then just so rt of…deflated. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Sugar said, shaking his head. “I think I just witnessed our little omega’s first miracle.”

Titus’s hands threaded in Ridley’s hair, pulling him back against him, burying his face against his neck, growling as he sucked at his scent gland. Ridley couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped, his body releasing enough slick to coat his thighs.

The mood in the room shifted so quickly that Ridley lost his balance, the weight of their stares making his knees weak.

Titus held him up with ease. At first, nobody moved.

Each of them eyed him like he was the juiciest steak in the butcher’s case, every muscle tensed like they were ready to pounce.

Ridley’s omega purred loudly. He liked being prey.

Maybe Ridley did want attention. Was that so wrong?

“You said you locked him up,” Sugar rasped, coming to stand before Ridley, tipping his chin up until their eyes met. Ridley pouted his lips, blinking doe eyes at the alpha.

“I lied,” Titus murmured, running his lips along Ridley’s cheek, leaving a sloppy trail of spit in his wake like he was marking him.

“That was probably a very bad idea,” Steele said, floating closer, a low rumble escaping as Sugar’s thumb pushed between Ridley’s lips, the pad of his finger rubbing along the wet muscle like he was testing him.

Ridley bit down just hard enough to earn a warning growl, the tang of his skin sending another wave of need rolling through him.

Sugar pulled his finger free, a slow predatory smile spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines that had Ridley biting back a moan.

He wanted to feel those teeth sinking into his flesh.

Ridley raised his hand to cup his face, the scratch of his beard on Ridley’s palm making him shiver.

He bet it would feel so good on his thighs.

Ridley tore his gaze from Sugar to meet Steele’s gaze. “It doesn’t have to be a bad idea,” he murmured, crooking his finger to bring him closer .

“An omega in heat can’t consent,” Steele said, tone monotonous, like he was reciting some kind of oath.

“I’m not in heat yet,” Ridley said firmly. “And I am very, very clear about what I need right now.”

Ryker, Jensen, and Diesel moved closer, pressing into his space until he was caged on all sides, Titus still at his back, his arm an iron bar around his waist, the only thing keeping Ridley on his feet at the moment.

“And what’s that?” Sugar asked, thumb rubbing over Ridley’s bottom lip, gaze hot enough to melt steel.

“He smells so fucking good,” Jensen whispered, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, his pink tongue darting out to wet his own slightly chapped lips.”Diesel’s right. He’s so fucking wet right now.”

“Tell them, Strawberry,” Diesel rumbled, his dark eyes flashing with something that made Ridley swallow audibly. “Tell us what you need.”

Ridley’s heart raced, his mouth filling with saliva, more slick flooding from him as he inhaled their combined scent, their arousal igniting that fire low in his belly.

They wanted him so badly. All of them. He could smell it.

He could fucking taste it. He could see it in their unwavering stares and the way their hands clenched like they were desperately fighting every instinct they had.

But Ridley had instincts, too. And he had no interest in fighting them. He stepped away from Titus, looking at each of them in turn, his insides quivering.

Ridley let the blanket fall to the floor. “I need my pack.”