Page 37 of Your Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #2)

Chapter thirty-one

Red

All hell breaks loose as the raging alpha slams into us. Sebastien’s arm drops away from my back, and I stumble into the set. It smells like someone’s set fire to a grain field.

“Oh, shit,” I gasp out, as Zack crouches over the actor and hauls back his clenched fist.

A flash of purple and white catapults between them, and I wince as Rickon appears on Zack’s chest, clinging like a monkey. Agent Pierce drags my alpha’s arm behind his back, but Zack snarls at him and slams his shoulder into the agent’s belly. Pierce staggers back.

I cover my mouth with my hands, too stunned to even call his name. What a fool I am. We rushed to get here, and the director changed the scene since we were late and the lighting had shifted too much. I was so focused on getting into character that I forgot to warn Zack and Rickon.

My throat closes up. I should’ve shown him it was just acting and introduced Sebastien properly. Now he thinks his turf is being challenged. For a split second, his rage blooms inside me as if it’s my own, compelling me to hate Sebastien. To want him ground into dust.

I choke on the consuming fury.

Zack gets his arm free, but Agent Pierce throws himself on Zack’s back instead, cranking a headlock around his throat.

Rickon clings to our alpha, shouting “No!” over and over.

Scenes flash through my mind of Sebastien pressing charges and Zack getting dragged back to Alpha Lodgings.

And Rickon’s going to get a black eye any second from the fists flailing around.

The terror paralyzes me. Zack could undo everything we’ve been working toward. If that happens, I’ll lose him—maybe forever.

Trembling, I drag myself upright and scream at the top of my lungs, “Zack! Come.”

My alpha spasms, his fist changing direction midair to hit the ground beside Sebastien’s head. Straw fragments and dust shower away from his hand. The flood of anger through my chest shifts to concern. Zack pivots, clutching Rickon one-handed as he lunges to his feet and shakes the OCB agent loose.

Violent shivering wracks my body as the human tornado arrives.

Zack shields me, pressing Rickon between us like a sandwich. “Ohm?” he growls, checking me for danger. He shifts Rickon to his hip like he’s carrying a child and leans in, growling as he catches another alpha’s scent on my face.

Whispers run through the watching crew. The eyes on us, they fucking burn, full of shock and disgust. And fear.

I scrabble behind me, hands tangling with the latch on the stable door. I release it and tumble backward into the stall, onto the wood shavings. Zack loses his footing as the gate gives way and falls forward, barely catching himself from slamming into me.

We lie in a gasping heap, Rickon as white as a sheet, while Zack expands and contracts with each furious inhale.

A shadow falls over us. “Okay in there?” Agent Pierce asks, breathing hard.

I flash him a thumbs-up, not sure my tongue’s capable of working right now.

“Is Sebastien all right?” Rickon asks, voice cracking. Not surprising, considering he was shouting so much.

“I’m fine,” the actor calls, although he sounds shaky.

My head flops back onto the wood shavings. Fucking hell, that was a close call.

“Mine. Okay?” Zack asks.

I wrap my arm around his head and hold it to my chest in answer.

How do I even define okay in a situation like this?

My raging alpha whuffles, sniffing my clothes.

His tongue slides under my collar, questing for my bond mark.

Maybe it’s more comforting to him than me, or maybe he enjoys the secondhand pleasure.

The touch chases away my icy terror, replacing it with a radiating warmth, even though my heart still beats frantically.

We exist on a knife’s edge every day, courting disaster. Maybe life never gets simpler, and I’ll always need my Red Hawk wits on full alert.

A familiar voice booms through the momentary hush. “I don’t think that alpha should be on set.” Bradley Jacks, first-class fucking asshole.

The anger fizzling through my body wants me to march over there and choke him. Zack growls in response to my anger, lifting his head to scan for the threat.

“He’s dangerous,” Brad adds.

I clutch Zack tighter against my chest. Zack’s not the one who is dangerous—I am.

“Leave it be, Brad,” Sebastien shoots back. “It didn’t affect you.”

“This isn’t the only kissing scene,” the other actor declares, voice rising to a whine.

Handsome, egotistical Brad has been touchy-feely in every shoot we’ve had together. The script may explain it, but unlike Sebastien, he keeps touching even after the director calls “cut.” Piece of shit.

Zack suckles on my bond mark, startling a gasp out of me. Fire spreads through my body, burning a path straight to my pussy, and everything else drops out of my brain.

“Ask,” he murmurs over the mark, breath scorching.

I groan. Do I reward him for obeying, or punish him for rushing in to attack Sebastien?

I don’t know what’s right and I’m no expert at human psychology and development.

Plus, I’m worn out after such a hectic Spring Film Festival weekend.

Or maybe after such a hectic life, never mind a blip on the radar like the gala.

All I can rely on is my omega instinct, and everyone knows that’s treacherous as fuck. Especially for me.

No movie covers training feral alphas—I’m just making it up as I go. Maybe I should write a script: How to Train Your Feral . Might be an Ommy-award-winning film.

You’re doing a good job. Tell yourself that every day.

The frazzled-looking shrink’s statement seeps through my chaotic thoughts, and a snort of amusement escapes me.

I know she didn’t say those words thinking everything I do is perfect.

It’s so I don’t beat myself up daily; so I don’t cripple myself with negative mind talk. And it helps.

“This isn’t a zoo,” Director Yun calls, breaking through my daydream. “We have a movie to film, in case everyone forgot.”

Fuck that. I need my alpha more than I need to be an actress right now. Which says a lot, since acting is all I’ve ever wanted to do. How about we just celebrate the fact we’re alive right now? If I’ve done a good job so far, I should continue to follow my instincts.

“Yes,” I whisper into Zack’s hair in response to his asking , clinging to his packed shoulders and wrapping one leg around his hip.

I’m a bad omega, using my alpha to delay a scolding from my boss. But I don’t care. I just want to float for a moment in a world where nothing else exists. Then I’ll be able to face reality. And more than anything, I need to reward my alpha for coming when I called.

Rickon, sprawled in the stable bed beside me, catches my eye and grins. My worries evaporate as he takes my hand. “We’ll just need a moment to calm him down,” he calls to the crowd beyond the door.

Zack makes quick work of getting my pants rolled down past my hips and plunges his thick cock right in, sucking on my bond mark as he does.

I arch into him, clamping my teeth together around a fierce moan.

My wildling alpha balances on one forearm and holds my hip with the other as he slams himself into me over and over, burning through his adrenaline with short, quick thrusts.

Fuck, it’s good. It’s good to let go. A moan escapes me.

My alpha needs to know I’m his, always. And fuck what everyone outside the stall thinks.

I cling to Zack’s neck and roll my hips, trying to match his pace.

It’s messy, frantic, and powerful. Like two nymphs who might be separated at any second, never to see each other again, going at it with all they’re worth.

That won’t happen to us, though, I’ll make sure we stay together.

Rickon covers my mouth as the orgasm explodes, and I suck on his fingers like they’re that other part of him, swallowing down my whimpers. He pants, forehead wrinkled in concentration, as he watches me.

Zack’s grip tightens, digging into my hip. He grunts, thrusting deep, and the edge of his knot swells against my opening. “Shit. Grab hold of his knot, Rickon,” I whisper. I wanted a quick stress relief, not a two-hour bonding session.

Rickon chuckles and reaches down to grip the alpha’s cock base, and Zack responds with a sexy growl and another determined thrust. His stomach bunches and he arches, muscles tightening as he finds his release.

“He’s so fucking thick,” Rickon murmurs against the alpha’s bicep. “Must feel so good in your sweet pussy.”

“Mm-hmm,” I whisper back, certain I can’t form a more intelligent response. All the tension drains away, leaving me doughy and calm.

Zack slumps over me, breathing hard. As his cock softens, I hold him and stroke his back, bathing myself in a mist of sweat, charred barley scent, and his trickling cum.

A rush of affection wells up inside me, and I can’t hold it in any longer.

Finally I find the words I’ve been trying to say for months.

“I love you, Zack.” I reach over and grip Rickon’s hand. “I love you, Rickon.” This is living, moment by moment, making messes and cleaning them up on the daily. I can’t wait for grand moments, like some kind of proposal. We’re only guaranteed this moment right now, when they’re in my arms.

Tears spill through my first alpha’s pretty lashes as he digests my declaration. “I love you too, Red.” He leans over and presses his lips to my forehead. “More than words can say.”

I close my eyes. One day, I’ll be able to feed this declaration directly into his heart. Then we won’t need the words to be sure.

Someone clears their throat and my eyes snap open in time to see a packet of tissues sailing through the air to land on the wood shavings beside my arm.

Agent Pierce stands outside the stall with his back to us. “The director looks like he’s about to have a stroke,” he says without turning around.

I chuckle. “Never a dull day, right, Agent Pierce?”

He shrugs but his shoulders twitch with suppressed laughter. “That’s true, but well done getting him calmed down. My educated guess is Zack’s still worked up from what happened on the weekend.”

Well, he has a point. From Zack’s perspective, it probably feels like he faced an opponent back in his old underground fighting life. Not to mention the confrontation with Lyra. No wonder he’s extra sensitive.

I roll out from under Zack. When he tries to pin me down again, his eyes still burning with heat, Rickon gently switches the big alpha’s hands to his own body. “I’ll stay here with him for a bit while you reshoot the scene. Think you can handle the director?”

I grin as I pull a tissue from the packet to clean myself up. “I was born to handle Mr Yun.”

Rickon presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “Try not to break him.”

After a lingering kiss, I grab Zack’s hair firmly and tilt his face up. “Zack, stay here with White Mine, okay? Stay. Your omega needs to go to work.”

His hands tighten possessively around Rickon, and I suspect my first love might be in for a rough ride today.

“Try not to make any noise,” I instruct with a grin, heading out and latching the stall door behind me.

Director Yun does appear to be a strange shade of mottled red.

I take a bottle of water from the table before approaching my boss. “I’m sorry about that, Director. You know how it is with omegas, but I think you’ll find my acting skills just leveled up. Shall we resume the scene?” I’m so happy and relaxed I could kiss the director himself right now.

I may appear flippant, but so far I’ve only held up filming twice. Other than that, I’ve worked tirelessly doing everything the director wants, without complaint. I think he’ll cut me some slack.

He curses at me before stealing the unopened water bottle from my hand. After taking a long swig, he wipes his mouth. “We need the set cleared,” he says pointedly, jutting his chin toward the stall.

I glance over my shoulder, smiling smugly. “Why? We can’t hear or see anything.” I step closer and lower my voice. “Just picture it. The behind-the-scenes documentary might be even more famous than the movie.”

He flinches, staring at me like he can’t decide if I’m his savior or the devil herself. I shrug. Am I profiteering from my alpha? I don’t think so. Given Zack’s history, I’m doing whatever it takes to make sure he never gets put back in a cage. I’m simply doing my best.

The director shakes off his stupor. “Reset the scene!” he calls. “And get makeup in here for repairs.” In a low whisper he adds, “You’re a mess.”

The stunned film crew jump to attention, and we resume filming—with my two alphas making love silently behind the set pieces.