Page 193 of Caged

What I see makes me frown.

Her hair is in need of a brush, the ends tangled and snarled where they hang over her shoulder in a thick, messy braid. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her lips are red and chapped like she’s been biting on them for hours.

She looks like shit, and part of me feels vindicated seeing her this way.

The other part of me, the part that’s attached to my biology, urges me to purr for her. To wrap her in my arms and purr until she loses some of the tension in her shoulders.

No. That. That, right there! That’s how Omegas reel you in.

That’s exactly how this female was able to convince my most pragmatic, logical packmate to ignore every one of my warnings and put himself in danger. For her.

I will not make the same mistake.

I can’t help my biological reactions, but I’ll be damned if I allow them to rule me. Letting my biological instincts rule will get me killed. I learned that a long time ago from an Omega far more beautiful than the human standing in front of me.

Liar.

Look at her.

She’s beautiful.

She looks like magic given flesh.

Imagine how perfect her body would feel pressed up against yours. How satisfying it would be to pierce that delicate, pale neck with your fangs and feel her pulse jump under your tongue. You’ve been thinking about it for days. The way she’d moan and wrap those delicate fingers around your arms. The way her blush would spread over her soft flesh with every dirty word you whisper against her skin⁠—

I growl and forcefully shove my instincts aside.

My Alpha is a fucking idiot. Like I’d ever listen to him. If I had, I would have died a thousand fucking times already. That part of me has no say here. Not when it comes to her.

He’s awful fucking chatty for the first time in centuries, lately. It’s an irritation I don’t need right now. Maybe I should consider suppressants for a while. Just until she leaves. The descenter is fine, but it doesn’t do shit to subdue the part of me with a knot for brains.

The Omega’s tongue darts out, swiping across her bottom lip. Her breathing starts to pick up. It’s as if she can sense my thoughts and simply can’t help herself.

Fatesdamned Omegas, always using their bodies to get what they want.

I snarl, louder this time. As soon as the sound rips from my throat, the Omega takes a gigantic step backwards. Her muscles tense. Her eyes dart around the room once more, searching for an exit.

She’s clearly about to bolt, but it’s far too late for that.

She’s in my domain now, and I’m in a mood.

A dark smile stretches across my face before I can suppress it. I’ve stayed away like I was told to. I haven’t sought her out. Gav told me not to get near her, and I’ve followed that order.

But if the lamb walks into the lion’s den all on her own… well. That’s not my fault, is it?

“I asked you a question, Omega.” My tone is as close to an Alpha bark as I can get without turning into a walking cliche. That being said, I’ve always found that a well-placed growl works wonders and saves time.

After all, my patience is not a renewable resource.

Especially not today, and especially not with this Omega.

“I—uhm—” She lowers her gaze to the floor and bares her slim, delicate neck. The movement is natural. Graceful. One she’s clearly performed before.

I just can’t quite tell if she’s doing it because she’s attempting to manipulate me into thinking she’s helpless, or if she always defers to Alphas like that.

It’s possible that Varenthrall requires it of her. He does seem like the kind of Alpha with a small-knot complex who requires constant submission just to feel powerful around his Omega daughter.

I don’t prompt her further, choosing to wait and see where this goes.