And I would have taken my plate down to my room to ignore them all.
Yet here we sit around this table, captivated by this pretty little wolf when we don’t even know what she looks like yet in human form.
Her scent is a big part of the allure.
But it’s also the innate sweetness to her aura and the fighter we can all see lurking in her eyes.
This female is going to be fun once she shifts back into her human self.
“Are you tired, little one?” Tieran asks when Clove yawns.
She leans into him a little more, seeking the comfort of his Alpha touch—another thing only an Omega would ever truly do.
It’s possible this is the result of whatever trauma led up to her killing her mother, or perhaps the trauma of that specific event.
But I suspect it’s so much more.
Because her aroma is intoxicating and a drug to our senses.
Unless she’s been sent here as some sort of glorified trap. Pheromones can be altered, after all.
And if that’s the case, she’ll die. Painfully.
“Hmm, I’m translating that as a yes,” Tieran muses as she yawns again. “I don’t suppose you want to sleep in the guest room?”
She seems to consider it, but the shiver in her fur tells us everything we need to know—she won’t feel safe there.
“Just let her have her nest,” I say, taking the decisions away from her. I’m not trying to be cruel or pushy, I just want to make it easier on her. Somehow I just know she’ll opt for the guest room and then not sleep a wink.
Tieran’s expression says he suspected the same.
It’s the fighter beneath her skin, and now that she has control of her wolf, she’ll try to be independent. But her wolf knows what she needs—Alphas capable of protecting her from the predators outside.
Besides, it’ll be easier having her sequestered at the back of the den. That scent of hers is a beacon, and someone may just be stupid enough to try to follow it in here.
I would prefer to be the one to properly welcome whatever idiot is suicidal enough to enter, and not leave Clove upstairs to defend for herself. While that leap at Jack’s throat was impressive, it would not be enough to take down a determined Carnage Wolf.
And especially not a Carnage Wolf Alpha.
Clove doesn’t protest, instead choosing to follow Tieran as he leads her to the stairs. “I believe you know the rest of the way,” he tells her. “I’ll take the guest room for tonight so you can have your space.”
She seems to pause at that, the female inside thinking.
But a little nudge to her rump with his palm has her scurrying down the stairs.
He waits a beat, likely listening for her to do as she was told, then returns to the living area to start picking up dishes.
“She has to be an Omega,” I say conversationally as I help carry several empty plates to the sink.
“No shit,” Volt agrees, helping as well. “T just gave up his room to her. Only an Omega could accomplish that.”
Tieran snorts. “She’s fragile and I don’t want to risk her wolf taking complete control again.”
“You really think that’s why she can’t shift?” I wonder aloud. “Or is it the Alpha dick who did this to her?”
“We’ll know in the morning.” He starts scrubbing plates, telling me he’s even more distracted than he cares to let on. Because Tieran only cleans when he’s thinking seriously about something.
Volt and I share a look, then clear the rest of the living room while Tieran takes on the domestic chores in the kitchen.
By the time he’s done, I know he has a plan because there’s a strategic glint in his blue eyes. “We’ll test her in the morning, see if she’s ready to take back complete control. If she’s not, we’ll give her another day or two under our protection to see if that helps.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I prompt.
“Then I’ll do what needs to be done.” He doesn’t sound happy about it. I don’t blame him. Commanding a shift hurts the other wolf, and that’s the very last thing any of us would want to do to an Omega.
But part of being an Alpha is knowing when to take charge and force situations for the betterment of the other party.
And, in this case, it’ll be to Clove’s benefit to learn how to shift back.
She’ll hate him for it at first.
However, she’ll eventually forgive him.
Probably around the time he knots her.
No Omega can resist an Alpha’s cock.
Perhaps that’ll be her final test to see if those pheromones are real or not. If she dies, she lied. If she survives, she’s ours.
Tieran’s wrist begins to vibrate, his watch warning him of an incoming call. “It’s my father,” he says, turning off the water. “I’ll let you know what he says about the girl.”
He disappears from view, heading down to his office.
Volt and I share yet another look—something we seem to be doing frequently tonight.
“Want to take bets on which idiot tries to find her first?” I ask him, referring to the Carnage Wolves.
“A bet against you?” He snorts. “They better be good stakes.”
“Winner knots the Omega first?” I suggest. It doesn’t have to apply to Clove, just whoever our future Omega may be. It just happens to be her presence here today that gives me the idea for the bet.
“I think she’ll be choosing T for that,” Volt replies, confirming that he agrees Clove isn’t just an Omega, but our intended Omega. “Her wolf picked his bed, after all.”
“A given. I meant the winner between us knots her first—after T.” Because we’re an Alpha circle. If T mates her, we all mate her. And given how comfortable she seemed with us tonight, I doubt that’ll be much of an issue for her. However, again, this bet applies to whoever the Omega of our future is—which I very much hope is sweet little Clove.
Volt considers it. “All right.” He makes his pick.
I make mine.
And the bet is on.
9
CLOVE
Roughly two days in a den with three Carnage Wolf Alphas has turned everything I know about their kind upside down.