Page 92 of Omega Hunted

Soren’s head fell back, throat bared, the long line of his neck catching the moonlight through the window. I fisted a hand in that silver-white hair and tugged him back down, bringing our mouths together. I needed those sounds against my lips, not just in the air. Soren kissed me messy and open, moaning into my mouth, his rhythm faltering as his thighs shook with effort. I could taste the desperation on his tongue, the salt-sweet of his breath, and I swallowed every sound he gave me.

Every drag of Soren’s body wound something tighter in my chest. The heat of him, the slick squeeze of his hole, the way his cock touched my stomach leaving wet streaks, built until there was nothing left. No room for thought, for control, for anything but the man in my lap taking what he wanted.

Soren broke first. He eased back from the kiss just enough to gasp my name and his whole body seized, clenching down hard as he came untouched between our stomachs, streaking hot and white across my skin. His cock pulsed and jerked with each wave, and the sounds he made were raw, animal, beautiful. I watched him fall apart above me, his face flushed and tear-streaked, his mouth open, and I memorized every second of it.

I followed a heartbeat later, every muscle in my body locking tight before the tension shattered through me. A deep, instinctive pull settled at the base of my cock as my knot swelled, thickening inside him until there was nowhere left to go. My wolf surged beneath my skin, possessive and fiercely content, urging me to hold, to stay, to keep my omega safe.

I groaned into the crook of Soren’s neck, my whole body trembling with the force of it. The knot held us together, warm and impossibly intimate, every tiny movement reminding me we were connected in a way neither of us could escape until my body was ready to let him go.

I wrapped one arm around Soren’s waist, the other disappearing into his hair as though letting go might somehow unravel everything we’d just become. Our foreheads rested together while we fought to catch our breath, neither of us speaking, neither of us needing to. My wolf was quiet now, the restless ache that had haunted him for years easing into something I’d never expected to feel again.

It wasn’t making love that stole the air from my lungs and filled my heart with joy.

It was a bond.

It settled into place with a quiet certainty reaching far deeper than instinct. I felt him—not his thoughts or words, but the steady, unmistakable presence of him beneath my own skin, warm and alive, as though a part of me that had stood empty for years had been found. My wolf was calm in a way I hadn’t felt since Raff, and instead of guilt, there was only peace.

Soren was here, alive, and somewhere beyond fear, grief, and everything we’d survived to reach this moment; we belonged to one another.

His eyes searched mine, wide with wonder. “I can feel you,” he whispered, as though he didn’t quite believe it. His hand flattened over his heart. “Not telling me what to do… not pulling… you’re just…” His voice broke. “You’re with me.”

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Is this what it’s supposed to be?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“What does it feel like?”

He swallowed hard, tears shining in his eyes. “Safe.”

“Always.”

Soren collapsed to my chest, trembling. My cock eventually softened inside him but neither of us moved. The room smelled like sex and pine and sweat and peaches, and outside the window, the moon tracked across the sky. I kept my arm around his waist, my thumb tracing absent circles against the small of his back and listened to his breathing slow. His fingers were still curled in the fabric of my henley, knuckles white, as if he were holding on to something he was afraid would disappear. I knew the feeling.

“Hey,” I said. “Stay with me.”

“I’m here.” His voice was wrecked, muffled by my shirt. Then he met my gaze, eyes bright with emotion. “That was amazing.”

I kissed his silky hair and didn’t say anything because there wasn’t anything that wouldn’t sound smaller than what he’d just told me.

We lay together in the quiet, his head resting on my shoulder, our fingers tangled beneath the blanket I’d pulled off the back of the sofa.

“Cassian?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to shift soon, and when I shift…” He hesitated. “Will you stay with me?”

I turned my head to him. “Of course.”

“I don’t know what my cat will be like.” His voice was almost embarrassed. “I barely remember my only shift. I remember being frightened… and then they stopped it. After that…” He shrugged one shoulder. “The drugs made sure it never happened again. So, I don’t know him.”

I threaded our fingers together. “No.”

“I don’t know if he’ll know me.”

I squeezed his hand. “He will.”

Soren was unconvinced. “What if…” He laughed softly, nervously. “What if he doesn’t like me?”