Omega's Wolves: Hell's Wolves MC Read online

  “This will only work if you agree to not kill each other over me. No more back yard fights, no more claws, no more blood-letting. I know we’re all hardwired to jealousy, because we’re like, part animal, but everybody’s gonna need to just chill. Deal?”

  Tristan clenched his jaw, Caine blew hair off his face, and Daniel sucked at his lip.

  I doubled down. “If I can’t date all of you, I’ll date none of you. Is that clearer?”

  That got the men’s attentions.

  “All right,” Daniel said. “Agreed.”

  Caine nodded, and then they both looked to Tristan. Even though I planned to date each of them, and that was a personal matter, this had pack-wide consequences, which meant Tristan needed to sign off formally.

  After several moments of consideration, ones which clearly weren’t easy for him—reluctance cloaked his face like a thin veil—he spoke at last.

  “You have my word as alpha,” he intoned, his voice low. “We won’t come to blows again over you. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to the pack.”

  Daniel and Caine nodded, but then Caine seemed to have a thought. You knew when Caine had a thought, because his whole expression changed, similar to those happy/sad theatrical masks; he wore his heart on his features.

  “And,” he added, throwing another clause in Tristan’s direction, “you can’t sway her with your alpha authority.”

  Tristan sighed but agreed. “That’s frustrating … but fair. Agreed.”

  Suddenly, a palpable undercurrent of excitement shot through the circle. I get to date them all, I mentally squealed. I am so, so lucky. Wasn’t this the dream? When does a girl get the chance to date three beautiful men, simultaneously, all of whom she’s attracted to? Not very often. Possibly never.

  Caine cleared his throat. “Okay, so, who goes first?”

  Chapter 16

  In the end, we decided there wouldn’t be any ‘first’, because that would make it sound competitive, which it expressly wasn’t.

  Instead, while we were living in the house, I’d continue to just spend time with the boys; doing our lessons, helping clean up, etc. And if that ‘spending time’ turned into ‘kissing and other things’, well then, so be it. Additionally, were it ever safe enough for us to leave the house again, they were permitted to take me on real dates, though I had no idea what a date in this weird little town would look like.

  We all shook on it—or, I shook with each of them individually—and then Caine, ever ready, asked, “So, who gets to sleep in your bed tonight?”

  Tristan’s mouth opened a bit, and Daniel smirked. I smacked Caine’s shoulder.

  “No one,” I replied. “Somebody could, at some point, share my bed, if I felt like it. But not tonight. Tonight, you guys need to get cleaned up, because you all look and smell like you’ve been fighting.”

  The men glanced down at themselves, it wasn’t a pretty sight. After the conversation we’d just had, I realized, once again, that they were naked. Being a shifter, sometimes things like human nudity kind of doesn’t register. But now that I’d agreed to date the pack, trust me—I was noticing the nudity. If I ever did let them into my bed, I had plenty to look forward to.

  Daniel caught me staring, and winked.

  “You sure you don’t want to change your mind, Emma?” he asked, his voice deep and enthralling.

  Obviously, I do, I thought in reply. But aloud, I said, “I’m sure. Let’s keep it kosher, for the time being.”

  I let the unspoken words sit with the group: for the time being. As in, perhaps there’d be a time, soonish, when we could do unkosher things. Yum.

  “I’m going to bed,” I announced, excited but also exhausted from just how excited I was. It had been a long ass day, huh? Running away, fighting with Tristan, then actually running away from Brock’s bears, getting here, fighting with the boys, watching the boys fight, making up. God, it was enough to make a girl dizzy! Bed was waaaay overdue.

  “Can we get some good night kisses?” Caine inquired demurely. He really was always the devil, only one thing ever on his mind.

  I looked around at the other boys, waiting for a signal.

  “So, you’re gonna be cool if I kiss you gents in front of one another?”

  The Hell’s Wolves nodded immediately, almost so fast I wondered if a spark of arousal had flown through their telekinetic link. No words, just a desperate need and desire for my touch. Well, that would be flattering.

  I looked around the circle, and decided I would move in order.

  “Just pecks, all right?” I instructed them. “No funny business.”

  The boys agreed, though I wasn’t sure I believed them.

  “Okay, here we go.”

  I began at Tristan, ducking my head toward his, and finding his lips with my own. He kissed by the book, respectfully, like a man trying to hold himself back, for fear of what he would do if he freed his inhibitions. It was a sweet kiss, a chaste one. Certainly not anything that might upset his pack.

  He pulled away, and murmured, both to me and the pack, “And I’m sorry, everyone, for trusting Pelt. It was an error, and I regret it deeply.”

  “We know,” Daniel replied.

  Caine, much to my surprise, said, “And it’s okay.”

  That easily, the feud over Pelt and Tristan’s decision making was put to bed. I recalled something, perhaps a thing I’d gleaned from Sun Tzu: the minute a leader takes responsibility, he gains far more leeway with his followers. That means they respect him, I thought with pride.

  But I couldn’t get too absorbed with Tristan, because I had the promise of more kisses from Daniel and Caine awaiting me.

  So, with a wink, I moved on to Daniel, the next in the circle.

  “This is familiar,” he joked as his face rose to meet mine.

  I laughed. “Oh, so you’re a comedian now?”

  “For you? Could be.”

  Daniel initiated the kiss, and I fell backward into a pool of stars and comets, the kiss was that electric. With him, kissing felt like an exchange of secrets, like pushing open a door into a mysterious universe all of its own devising. It was an invitation, one that was rarely granted. I wanted to pry his mouth open further, plunge my tongue inside, and uncover his depths.

  This was only spurred on when Daniel grabbed my hands, which were hanging at my sides (what? I was trying not to get too flagrant), and with one of his larger hands, clasped them together behind my back, binding me. I sighed with pleasure, hoping that this was a hint of things to come.

  It was with great effort that I broke away, and was greeted by Tristan and Caine, looking on with ill-masked jealousy.

  “Now, now, boys,” I said, waggling a finger. “What did we agree on?”

  “I know, I know,” Caine muttered.

  “No envy,” Tristan agreed, though the words were not easily pried from his mouth. “Easier said than done. You’ll have to excuse us if we, ah, slip a little. It takes practice, with a woman like you. Forgive us.”

  I flushed at the compliment and replied flitatiously, “You’re forgiven. Only because that was such a charming apology.”

  Oh my God, who am I? Since when did I talk to an alpha like that? If I’d said even a fraction of that to Brock, he would’ve—well, I’d rather not go into what he would’ve done. Not when things were going so well with the Hell’s Wolves. Maybe the time for dwelling on my troubled past had lapsed.

  With that encouraging thought in mind, I shifted from Daniel to Caine, ready to bestow the final kiss. I took a step toward him, tentative and demure, but he grabbed me and grinned.

  “Don’t get modest now,” he guffawed, before planting a wet kiss on my mouth.

  We kissed the way teenagers did, sloppily, with more passion than we knew what to do with. It was eager, frantic, and fun as hell.

  I broke it off with a laugh, wiping my mouth free from his spit.

  “Were you trying to eat her face off?” Daniel asked him with amusement.

&
nbsp; “Nah,” Caine snickered. “Just givin’ Emma something to remember.”

  “We can discuss, ahem, techniques later,” Tristan said, trying to maintain his normal composure and pretty much failing. “In the meantime, I think Emma wants to get to bed.”

  I nodded, grateful for his intervention. I was so, so overdue for some shut-eye.

  “Good night, gentlemen,” I said with a smile, flicking my eyes over their bare bodies and delighted faces once more before turning on my heel.

  “I think you mean Wolves,” Caine called out.

  I padded back into the house, laughter bubbling in my chest. Wolves, indeed.

  No sooner had I entered the glass door and walked onto the hardwood floor than I remembered that I actually had no idea where to sleep in this place. Maybe I should’ve taken one of them up on the offer of a bed, I thought guiltily, before recalling that no rooms in this house appeared claimed−after all, it’s not like they’d been here any longer than I had. In other words, as the first one in, I had my pick of the rooms. Booyah.

  I wandered upstairs, reasoning that, in upscale houses like this one, bedrooms are usually upstairs, lending them an extra layer of imagined privacy. Sure enough, I was met by a hallway of doors, behind each of which was a bed. Though the concept was similar to the previous den—lots of bedrooms, little personality—even the basics of this house were a bit nicer: the sheets looked cleaner, it was painted all white as opposed to the opposing black, and there was clearly some kind of AC system. Not to mention, these rooms each had windows, a welcome departure from my more recent bedroom.

  After some light examination, I settled on the bedroom at the end of the hall. It had light pine floors, a four-poster bed with silky sheets, and gauzy cream curtains in front of a picture window, which led onto a small balcony. Maybe I can finally get back on a normal schedule, I thought with relief. No more losing track of hours, not knowing when was night, when was day. My circadian rhythm needed some kind of consistency.

  Oh, and did I mention that the room had its own private bathroom?

  As I hopped in the shower, letting the hot water run through my hair and down my shoulders, it occurred to me that this was probably supposed to be the alpha’s room. That is to say, Tristan’s. But after the hell I’d been through that day, I figured we could all make an exception to the normal hierarchy. Besides, said pack organization would usually dictate that I belonged to Tristan, that I was his property. Now, though, when it came to love, I was writing the rules.

  So, yeah—I took the bedroom.

  The steam fogged up the glass partition as I thought with wonderment about just how damn lucky I was. You’re living the dream, my inner voice admitted. Having it all.

  Three men, three Wolves. All mine. One a mysterious artist, another a bad boy with a quick laugh, and last but not least, an intimidating alpha. What more could a girl, and an omega, ask for? I imagined their hands on my body as the water slipped over my flesh; Caine’s domineering movements, Daniel’s subtle but powerful touch, Tristan’s surprisingly gentle fingers.

  I’d agreed to date them, to see who I felt more attracted to. What if the truth was that I couldn’t decide, because they were each special in their own way, and each brought out a different side in me that had been suppressed by Brock’s rule?

  But there was time to think about that in the morning, or whenever I woke up. I decided I was going to sleep in as long as necessary, training be (temporarily) damned. Stepping out of the shower, I quickly toweled off, then found a fluffy white robe in a nearby cupboard. Um, what? Since when did the Hell’s Wolves have nice robes for house guests? Since when did they have bathrobes, period? I wondered if, perhaps, the pack wasn’t as rough and tumble as the shifter world thought them to be. It stood to reason that there would be families among them.

  Or, I thought with surprise, maybe this is the perfect cover. After all, who would come looking for the shifter world’s most dangerous pack in a colonial house in a nearly abandoned former retirement community? The realization filled me with admiration. These guys weren’t just professionally terrifying; they were also smart.

  A renewed confidence in their protection flooded my heart. Besides, Daniel and Caine alone had managed to evade Brock’s bears, who were equally tough and far more lethal. Sure, Tristan miscalculated when he spoke with Pelt, but on the whole, I was feeling pretty safe with the men. Maybe I could finally get a good night’s sleep, enveloped with this trust and excitement.

  That thought in mind, I wrapped myself in the robe and strode out of the bathroom, where I collapsed, face first, on the bed. As was my new normal, my dreams were filled with Daniel, Caine and Tristan. Only, this time, I wasn’t plagued or anxious at the sight of their faces, torn apart by what moves to make, or if to make them at all.

  No, this time … Well, this time, I wanted the dreams to stretch on into forever. Me and my Wolves, a pack.

  Chapter 17

  When I awoke the following morning, the sun was blazing through the curtain, almost supernaturally bright, as though it threatened to burn up the whole world.

  My eyes adjusted (not without a little trouble), and I stretched my arms wide, letting them fall back on the pillows. Oh, it’d been a good night indeed. Those dreams … so vivid. So graphic. I smiled to myself amidst the sheets.

  It was slow going, getting out of that insanely comfy bed, but my stomach was reminding me that, much to my chagrin, I had not eaten a dang bite yesterday. Could that be possible? I went back in my mind, trying to recollect the last time I’d had even a morsel of food. Came up totally blank. Apparently, between the fear and running, and then the excitement and kissing, I hadn’t fed myself.

  Oh man, I groaned internally. There’s no way we’re going to have any food.

  Daniel was in charge of food runs, and he’d only gotten in last night—and then, after getting the shit kicked out of him... Did this mean I’d have to go out on my own, and forage in this tiny town? Or would I just have to grin and bear it until he was able to make the journey? My stomach growled at this.

  With a deep sigh, I stood up and unsteadily found my footing, holding my arms out to my sides for balance. It’d been so long since I’d gotten a good sleep that it’d made me a bit woozy. Or, err, I guess by so long I mean … like, maybe a week and a half? Or whenever I’d arrived at the Hell’s Wolves’ den, at which point, I’d promptly passed out for days. But that wasn’t really pleasure sleep so much as my body shutting down to prevent imminent death. Not exactly a relaxing experience. Plus, there’d been no silk sheets, which were a game changer.

  I made my way downstairs, carefully finding one step at a time, worried I might wake the boys. That wouldn’t be fair, after what they’d been through yesterday.

  But then, at the bottom of the steps, I was met by Caine, who seemed to be lounging there amicably. As soon as he saw me, bundled in my little robe, his brows shot up and a grin spread across his face.

  “Emma!” he crowed. “You’re awake!”

  I rubbed my mused up hair, and groaned, “Yeah, just barely.”

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like someone who needed it.”

  He laughed. “I figured. You were in bed for, oh, I’d guess fourteen hours.”

  “Jesus, really?”

  Caine nodded, blonde strands falling past his blue eyes. “Yup. Didn’t wanna wake you. But now that you’re up…”

  He stretched out an arm, indicating that I should take hold of it.

  “What’s that about?” I asked, gesturing toward his forearm. Caine wasn’t a big ‘chivalrous escort’ kinda guy.

  “I’m being a gentleman,” he sniffed, mock-offended by my words.

  I giggled at the thought of Caine as a gentleman, top hat and all, but took his arm nevertheless. It was thick and veiny beneath my small fingers, which splayed across his downy arm hair.

  “Lead the way,” I said with a smile.

  He walked me slowly down the hall, as if he didn’t
want to let me go—taking short, shuffling steps that were totally at odds with his normal loping gait. At last, after many long seconds of him dragging this walk out, we arrived at the kitchen.

  Oh, the world had heard my prayers, and by world, I meant the Wolves.

  Because there was an absolute feast spread out across the marble countertops.

  My mouth waters even recounting it. There were pancakes, bowls of fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, a veritable mountain of bacon, coffee, tea, on and on and on.

  “What’s this?” I asked, voice shaking with shock and glee.

  “We made you breakfast,” Tristan said, as though I were slow on the pickup due to tons of sleep.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, I got that much. But, why? I don’t deserve this.”

  “Of course, you do,” Daniel exclaimed.

  Caine nodded along in agreement. “You deserve this, and then some.”

  “Plus,” Tristan added, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Daniel and I handled breakfast.”

  That was code for Caine didn’t make it, so it was going to be edible. Oh, would wonders never cease?

  Caine growled, “Hey, I’m a great cook.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I said unconvincingly, and patted his shoulder. “Best of the best.”

  Daniel and Tristan, who’d been restraining laughter, finally erupted in fits. Caine looked pissed for a moment, but he couldn’t resist a good laugh. In a moment, all four of us were nearly rolling on the floor, wiping tears from our eyes and trying to catch our breaths.

  “Insults aside,” Caine said finally, getting his wind back, “you gotta eat this stuff. Turns out, the boys have been hiding some pretty massive skillsets.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I sat down at the counter and Tristan served me, piling some of each thing on a plate, pouring me cups of every liquid.

  “Okay,” I said, as he set down a trembling mountain of food before me. “I’m hungry, but this is about three whole meals for me. You guys know I’m, like, five foot nothing, right? I can’t eat all of this.”