Omega’s Hope Read online

  And no omega was more integral than the Prime Omega, who watched out for the pack as a whole and guided the other omegas.

  Timothy wasn't connecting enough with the other cadets to be nurturing, nor was he offering himself up as a source of sexual relief. He was, however, offering up comedic relief. Every time he tripped and fell, every time he made an utter fool of himself, the pack laughed. His cheeks grew red and his posture showed shame, but he was relieving the stress of the pack. Every time he was bullied or pushed around, he was submitting to the betas, allowing them to safely get out their aggressions in the act of innocently subduing another.

  Timothy didn't look like he enjoyed his role, but it suited him perfectly. Christopher didn't think he even realized how quickly and easily he slipped into it, or what he was doing. But it was clear to Christopher that the young omega was perfect for Prime Omega of their pack.

  Christopher was proud of him for that, and he admired the strength with which the omega held himself. He endured it all with a lifted chin, even as his lip wavered. He was perfect for Prime Omega.

  Which was why, when Christopher felt his lips quirk into a small amused smile as Timothy tripped over himself attempting to leap the highest hurdles on the track after Christopher himself had done so, and he felt the strange and eerie sensation of bubbling fondness fill his chest, it was immediately chased away by the chill of ice in his veins.

  In that brief moment where he’d been watching Timothy get to his feet, scowling at the fallen hurdle like it had personally leapt out to attack him, hearing the soft laughter of the other alphas around him, Christopher had felt the eerie and traitorous sensation of his wolf whispering to him.

  Whispering the word mate.

  And that startled him enough that he turned his back on the omega, sprinting back down the track as if he might be able to outrun the sensation percolating deep within his chest.

  * * *

  Christopher wasn't a fool. He was hyper aware of the pack forming around him and those he might be chosen to lead. As such, he was fully aware of the fact that beyond the cluster of alphas and distinguished betas that followed him around, Timothy hovered just within his shadow.

  The omega followed him everywhere, trying to copy any sort of feat he undertook, despite clearly being incapable of replicating it. He tried feats of strength and agility, not at all deterred when he stumbled and fell, no doubt hurting himself in the process.

  Christopher wasn't sure exactly what he hoped to get out of the stunts, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the omega to stop. There was something strangely charming about his bumbling clumsiness and ceaseless stubbornness.

  While he wished Timothy would simply settle down and accept his role as an omega, and while he believed the boy's life would be infinitely easier if he just accepted his wolf and his role, he couldn't help but admire him a little. There was something about that spark and that flare of defiance that reminded Christopher of himself. It was stubbornness and strength in the face of adversity that he wished his parents had when he was growing up. And perhaps that's the reason he couldn't bring himself to stop Timothy's futile attempts to be more than he was.

  He blamed his wolf's increasing fondness on the festering sentimentality of the situation. That had to be it. Nothing more.

  No matter how much his wolf whispered mate in the back of his mind whenever a bubble of warm fondness dared to well up in his chest. No matter how much his wolf whimpered and whined softly in the shadows whenever Timothy hurt himself. No matter how much it silently snarled whenever others sneered at him or looked him up and down with lust in their eyes. No matter how much his wolf bristled whenever Timothy was yelled at or reprimanded.

  No matter how restless his wolf became, Christopher knew it had to be wrong.

  Alphas were destined to be with other alphas, especially Prime Alphas chosen to lead packs. They needed strong alpha mates to lead by their sides. An alpha might take an omega as a concubine or have their fun to relieve some tension, but to take an omega as a lifetime mate? Especially a Prime Alpha and a Prime Omega?

  It was unheard of, and extremely taboo. There were far too many political ramifications.

  He trusted in their inherent dynamics and the way of the pack, but he also trusted his wolf, too. Instinct had gotten him this far in life, but pack intuition and wolf instinct had always been in line with each other.

  Now they were at odds, and it left Christopher uneasy. It was a subtle nausea building in his gut, making his stomach churn and his chest feel tight at times. He could often ignore it, but it always crept back up. And each time with a newfound strength.

  Still, he knew his wolf had to be wrong. Timothy as his life-mate just wasn't right. It made no sense.

  If the pack chose him as Prime Alpha, it would be his role to designate the Prime Omega in a show of strength. As the only omega among them, Timothy was the obvious choice. But if Timothy was his life-mate, and Christopher was fated to protect him, how could he designate his mate to a life of humiliation and submission to the entire pack?

  He couldn't do that, but he would have to.

  Timothy couldn't be his mate.

  He just admired the omega. He was sentimental and somewhat proud of his strength in the face of weakness. Perhaps he was even a little attached because he was the son of Christopher's hero. Perhaps it was just because he'd been in the military since he was sixteen and hadn't really spent much time around omegas. That had to be it. He was simply young and sexually frustrated, leaving his wolf restless and eager.

  His wolf must simply want to take Timothy as a lover. He could do that, and it wouldn't be strange. Besides, as the Prime Alpha, it was his job to watch over the Prime Omega, to make sure they were always safe and healthy. An alpha wolf always saved a piece of meat for the omega before the rest of the pack dug in. It was their natural order.

  It was likely that his wolf was taking that sentiment too far, confusing it for something it wasn't.

  He felt far more comfortable with that thought, and ignored the way his wolf growled and snapped, paying no mind to the continuing whisper and insistent rumble of mate.

  * * *

  As hyper aware of Timothy as he’d been, constantly aware of where he was at all times, both consciously and subconsciously, Christopher hadn't missed the way the omega would sneak out at night.

  Movement in their barracks caught his attention, snapping him awake when the whiff of the omega's scent passed by him. He would watch, eyes adjusted to the dark, as Timothy would creep out of their barracks and into the night. At first he’d been wary, perhaps even a little enraged at something he refused to admit might be jealousy because his first thought had been that the man was meeting someone.

  However, from his bed, Christopher could see the track, and it didn't take him long to realize what the man was doing.

  On the day Christopher sprinted the track, setting new records and being heavily praised, he watched Timothy run the track at night. On the day he’d shown a feat of strength by lifting several heavy logs in the forest, he watched Timothy disappear into that same forest. On the day he’d beaten the rest at push-ups, he watched from his bed, through the window, as Timothy attempted the same feat.

  He never got far. His form was terrible, and his endurance was awful. He was always out of breath, stumbling and limping, dragging his feet back into the barracks like he was in pain.

  But he always did it, no matter how long it took or how painful it was, and that stirred a foreign sense of pride within Christopher's wolf.

  He never slept until Timothy came back.

  And when Timothy was caught sneaking out at night and yelled at by the sergeant, Christopher hovered nearby. He didn't intervene. He never did when Timothy was being bullied by the others or reprimanded by their superiors. But he watched from nearby, feeling restless and anxious. His wolf snapped and snarled, and he forced himself to bite his tongue as Timothy wilted under the sharp words and brutal truths.

&n
bsp; It wasn't his fault he was physically weaker than the rest of them. It wasn't his fault he couldn't keep up with the exercises he was subjected to. He was just an omega and couldn't be expected to keep up with alphas and betas. But still he tried, more forcefully and stubbornly than the others, and he kept trying despite one miserable failure after another. That had to count for something, right?

  When Timothy was assigned to cleaning the bathrooms for two weeks as punishment, much to the amusement and glee of the other cadets, Christopher couldn't help the stirring of pity in his gut.

  Timothy cleaned them during the hours when the rest of the cadets were busy, either late at night, during free hours, or during dinner. It allowed him peace and privacy. It also allowed Christopher to sneak into the bathrooms to offer help without the others knowing he would sink so low.

  He didn't know why he bothered or why he cared, but the shy and bright smile Timothy sent him as he dropped to his knees to help scrub the floor sent Christopher's heart racing and his head spinning. And he knew he couldn't stop.

  He still kept his distance from the omega around the others. He still didn't interfere when he was being picked on or yelled at. He still didn't approach him or acknowledge him among their budding pack.

  But they occasionally shared smiles, and that made Christopher's heart clench.

  He still occasionally snuck away to help Timothy with his punishments.

  When the sergeant asked if Timothy was still sneaking out, Christopher said no, despite the fact that he was continuing his late-night exercise routines.

  He told himself it was his job to look out for the pack's omega, and he was taking that duty seriously. As long as no one knew, it would be fine.

  * * *

  "Next time, I'm kicking your ass, Perkins," Lopez said, head tilted back and fingers pressing against his nostrils. Blood was no longer dripping, but red still crusted along the edges.

  Perkins scoffed, hands deep in his pockets as he smirked. "Yeah, sure, bud. I'd like to see you try. You're just lucky you were sparring with me and not Watts over here." He bumped into Christopher, nudging him with his elbow. "Did you see the way he laid out that beta? Fucking annihilated."

  "I didn't hurt him," Christopher said, brushing off Perkins.

  The man just shrugged. "Bruises count. And his ego is probably demolished."

  "Remind me never to spar against you, Watts," Lopez said, lowering his head but still gingerly touching his swollen nose. It was broken, but it would heal quickly.

  "Not gonna happen. If I want any sort of challenge, I need to spar with you two."

  "Was that a compliment? Because it sounded like a compliment," Perkins said, grinning.

  Christopher rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of giving out compliments when they're…" He froze mid step, nostrils flaring as a scent hit him like a tidal wave, crashing into him and rolling over him, dragging him down and threatening to drown him.

  Omega.

  It was sweet and rich, dark and temping. It rolled through him, causing his body to shudder. Heat surged through his veins like a wildfire, settling low in his gut as desire unfurled, quick and sudden. His wolf snapped awake, howling in his mind, crawling beneath his skin.

  Mine.

  He'd been aroused before, of course. He'd smelled alluring scents before. But nothing like this. Never like this. Never something that gripped him this hard, tugging him forward as his wolf demanded action.

  "Dude, you okay?"

  Perkins' voice snapped him out of the haze, and it was only then he realized he’d already taken several steps forward. He looked between his two companions, feeling restless and frantic. Perkins and Lopez were two alphas that had distinguished themselves from the pack, able to keep up with Christopher far better than most. As such, they’d become his right-hand men.

  Right now, they were both staring at him with brows furrowed, lips pressed in confusion, heads cocked to the side. Neither of them looked particularly disturbed or affected by the potent scent, which…that shouldn't have been the case. They were both alphas. Their noses were better than most, and they sure as hell should've been able to scent an omega. Especially one that smelled that sweet.

  Heat surged beneath his skin. He felt it rising up the back of his neck, prickling as it seeped out across his cheeks and sank low in his gut. He felt…flustered. He never felt flustered. What was happening?

  A bark of laughter caught his attention, and the three of them turned toward the barracks. With his wolf so close to the surface, his other senses became sharper. He could hear uproar within the building. Voices, sharp and loud. Laughter, biting with a sardonic edge that had him bristling.

  He started for the barracks, feet moving in long, quick strides long before he made the decision to do so. Instinct drove him forward, and Christopher rarely disobeyed his wolf. He could hear Perkins and Lopez following at his heels, but his attention was forward, on the barracks, on that sweet scent.

  He threw open the door, hearing it crash against the wall behind him. The sight that greeted him had his blood boiling.

  Timothy was laid out on his bed in just a t-shirt and boxers, skin flushed red and glistening with sweat. His eyes were squeezed shut, pouty lips parted and wet as his body writhed, fingers clenched into the sheets below him.

  Omega.

  Desire hit him hard, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Heat flared in his gut, causing his skin to tingle as he felt himself harden. The omega was beautiful, erotic as he writhed, lips parted in a silent plea.

  And surrounded by the other cadets, watching him in a mixed state of arousal and mockery, glee lighting up their faces, biting laughter on their lips, and hands rubbing themselves through their pants without shame.

  Mine.

  Desire turned to rage, colliding and mixing into a cacophony of emotion that Christopher couldn't control. His wolf, already so close to the surface, pushed through the last of his barriers. Fur sprouted from his heated skin, jaw cracking and reforming to a muzzle filled with snapping teeth. His ears stung as they lengthened, and his fingers burned as his claws tore through his nail beds.

  His mind was hazy as he rushed across the room. Rage burned in his veins as he snarled and snapped at everyone, a growl in his throat and a howl on his curled lips. His wolf chased the other cadets from the barracks, fury foaming at his teeth. He was certain he caught flesh a couple of times, but he wasn't sure who. He chased them all from Timothy's bedside, and then from the barracks without mercy. Though few protested when their chosen Prime Alpha came snarling and snapping toward them.

  Once the room was cleared, Christopher grabbed the closest bed and dragged it toward the door, a feat of strength that felt like nothing in the midst of his rage. Once the door was blocked, he allowed himself a moment to calm down.

  Eyes closed, he forced himself to slow his breathing. He prided himself on being able to snap in and out of his wolf shape. His force of will was impeccable. But he found this time, with Timothy's heat scent muddling his mind and filling his senses, it was difficult to get his wolf to subside long enough to change back.

  Once his wolf features had receded, he finally opened his eyes and turned.

  He knew he should go. He'd already decided to put space between himself and the omega. Nothing good could come of this. Yet he couldn't walk away. Instead, he found himself moving toward Timothy's bedside. The younger man watched him approach through half lidded eyes, lips parted as he panted. Skin flushed and dewy, back arching beautifully off the bed, Christopher wasn't sure how anyone would have been able to resist him.

  His hand reached out of its own accord. He watched it with a sense of hazy slow motion, unable and unwilling to stop it as he laid his hand on the bare flesh of Timothy's stomach, right where his shirt was riding up, revealing his slim waist. His wolf was certain, vibrating and eager to touch, but his mind hesitated.

  That hesitation, however, quickly melted away and dissolved into a thrill of adrenaline that surged through h
is veins the moment Timothy responded to his touch. His back arched, pressing himself into Christopher's palm. A soft gasp escaped his lips and his eyes rolled closed. Small, soft hands wrapped around Christopher's wrist, dragging his large, calloused hand up Timothy's stomach and chest, pushing his shirt aside as it went.

  The omega writhed beneath his touch, and Christopher burned.

  He pressed a knee to the bed, crawling onto it to lean over the smaller man. Hand still on his chest, fingers spread and thumb flicking lightly at a nipple, he leaned down to press his lips to Timothy's collarbone. Then his neck. Timothy gasped, breath caught in his throat as his body shuddered beneath Christopher's touch, breath escaping in a soft, barely there moan that had desire tingling beneath Christopher's skin.

  He dragged his mouth up the omega's neck to his jaw, moving to capture his lips. His mouth was small, but his lips were full, wet and pouty and oh so eager beneath Christopher's own. He tilted his head, capturing them fully, running his tongue along their seam until Timothy's mouth opened with a soft gasp. Christopher pushed his tongue past those sweet, tempting lips, tasting that sinful mouth.

  Christopher wasn't new to this. He was far from a blushing virgin, and he'd taken his fair share of betas and omegas in his time. Yet none of them had ever felt like this, tasted like this, smelled like this. One kiss and he was already spiraling, body alight and sparking where they touched.