Page 72 of X-Clan The Origin

She threaded her fingers in my hair to bring my mouth back to hers. “Can I tell you a secret now?”

“Always,” I exhaled against her lips.

“I don’t think you know how to be a bad Alpha,” she told me, her voice whisper-soft. “You’re so much better than all the ones I’ve ever met. And I’m glad I can call you mine.”

“Hmm, so youcansay nice things to me,” I teased, nuzzling her. “I guess you just needed a good knotting.”

She giggled, the sound one I wanted to hear over and over again. “Your knot is certainly a benefit in this situation.”

“Is it?” I asked, nearly ready to fuck her again. “Would you like more of thatben—”

The hairs along the back of my neck danced, warning me of the subtle change in energy around us.

Riley stilled, her eyes on me. She might not have sensed the alteration yet, but she could tell something was wrong by my reaction alone.

“Shift,” I demanded as I moved off of her. “Right now.”

She didn’t fight me, instead engaging her change in the next blink and rolling onto all fours. I stood, my senses coming alive as my nostrils flared at the scent of approaching Alphas.

At least two.

Maybe three.

And the aggression pouring off of them confirmed they weren’t here for a polite chat.

“We’re a little over thirty miles from the base,” I said, voice low. “I’m going to lead you in the direction you need to go. Then I want you to run as fast as you can, for as long as you can, and do not look back.”

She released a little protective whine, one that had a growl blossoming in my chest.

“This is not up for debate, Riley.You will run.” I infused every ounce of Alpha strength into those three words, my wolf refusing to consider any alternative. She would obey. She would survive. And I would fight these assholes until the bitter end.

Their lust mingled with their aggression, the Alphas on the hunt for the Omega they’d likely scented from miles away.

They wouldn’t care that she was mated.

They’d try to remove me from the equation and take her for themselves.

Because everything about their approaching scent revealed one very important fact—these Alphas wereferal.

They wouldn’t be kind. Nor would they listen to reason.

Dominance was the name of this game.

And I couldn’t play my part with Riley by my side.

She bowed her head, acknowledging my command. But not before allowing me to hear another whine. This one was underlined in fear because her wolf had likely picked up on the feral scent heading toward us.

I pressed my palm to her nape and gave it a good squeeze. “You are mine, Riley Campbell. And I’m about to demonstrate what that really means. Now let’s run.”

Her darkened irises met mine, a sense of understanding seeming to settle between us.

And then I leapt away from her to land on all fours, my wolf instantly taking charge. He remained acutely aware of Riley’s movements alongside us as we moved, her scent the primary indication that she stayed close.

She was quick on her paws, allowing me to set a challenging pace.

But it wouldn’t be fast enough to outrun the Alphas on our trail. They were hunting us like prey, and they would intrinsically consider Riley a weakness.

Myweakness.