Chapter 13 Syra

Little one.

As soon as I hear those words, my mind goes back to that night nine years ago when I fell through the ceiling of the ritual chamber. "Little one" is what Thorus called me after he caught me.

Are you okay, little one?

For the past few minutes, I've been wondering if he recognized me. I was kind of hoping he didn't, considering the shameful state I'm in, naked and knotted to Markus in the middle of a graveyard. But the fact that he just called me "little one" makes me think that he does remember.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence.

I can tell you what's not a coincidence—the way Thorus is making me feel right now. The big, stern alpha knows exactly what he's doing.

He is kneeling behind me on the grass, with his hard muscles pressing into my back, and his strong hands kneading my naked breasts. I probably shouldn't be letting him touch me like that. I hardly know him, after all, and the last time I saw him was nine years ago, when I was still a little girl, but the way he's massaging me right now feels too good to resist.

And the way he's purring feels even better.

I've heard alphas purr before. When I was little, my fathers used to purr for me at night to help me fall asleep. What Thorus is doing now is similar to that, but it's so much more intense. The pitch of his purring is low, more sensation than sound. I can feel it vibrating deep within my own chest, like an invisible hand gently squeezing my heart while two very real hands squeeze my naked breasts. I feel more aroused than I've ever felt in my life, but at the same time I feel totally relaxed. I let my head fall back against Thorus's shoulder with a moan.

In front of me, Markus watches with a strange expression on his handsome face. He looks concerned, and perhaps a little jealous, but more than anything, he seems fascinated by what Thorus is doing to me.

He's also turned on. I know this, because his cock and his knot are still inside me, and I can feel both of them getting even bigger and harder as he watches me moan and melt under the older alpha's spell.

If Thorus's goal is to separate my body from Markus's, I think he's going about it the wrong way.

But I don't tell him to stop. Hell no. It feels way too good.

Gradually, the focus of his purring seems to shift away from my chest and down into my solar plexus. I'm not sure how Thorus is doing that, but apparently he is able to direct his purring into different parts of my body. That discovery only serves to intensify my arousal. Without really thinking about what I'm doing, I raise my arms and reach back to run my fingers through the silvered hair at his temples.

"Thorus," I murmur. "What are you doing to me?"

"Hush," the alpha says softly, speaking and purring at the same time. "Just relax for me, little one. Surrender yourself, like a good little omega."

There's that phrase again. Little one. It ought to piss me off to be spoken to in that way, but there's something about the way Thorus says it—something in the dark, rich timbre of his voice—that makes me hunger for his approval.

I want to be good for him. I want to be his good little omega.

The focus of his purring shifts again, sliding gradually downward to my stomach, then to my lower abdomen, slowly approaching the place where my body is joined with Markus's. I wonder if the younger alpha can feel the vibrations now too.

"Oh Source," Markus groans suddenly as his eyes roll back in his head. "Oh Source…"

Yup, he feels it.

"You relax too, boy," Thorus says over my shoulder. "We need both of you good and relaxed if we're going to get this knot untied."

The purring moves lower, into my vagina, and it feels as if the vibrations are coming from the very center of Markus's hard knot. I come almost instantly, but it is not the sudden climax I experienced earlier when I was riding Markus in the mausoleum. This is a slow burn that gradually spreads and permeates every fiber of my being until it feels like pure pleasure is seeping out of my pores, leaking from my eyes, spilling down my cheeks in warm rivulets. It probably lasts for less than a minute, but it seems to go on forever, until it feels like I will die from coming.

"Please," I whimper. "Please, Thorus… I can't take any more."

"Shhh. You're doing such a good job, Syra. Just hang on a little longer."

The alpha's words of praise give me the fuel I need to endure. I surrender myself completely to the sensations of pleasure happening down between my legs, and all through the rest of my body as well.

So does Markus. He's already come inside me three times this morning, twice in the mausoleum, and once more while we were running from the Farlanders. Now he does it again, and the surge of fluid that comes spurting out of him feels as big as his previous three releases combined. It's as if Thorus is milking Markus with his voice, using the vibrations of his purring to wring every last drop of semen from the young alpha's balls.

And every last drop of pleasure from my own body.

Finally, just as the ecstasy is becoming too much to bear, I feel something let go inside me. Every muscle in my body seems to relax in unison. My sex doesn't just loosen its deathgrip on Markus's cock—it gapes.

At the same instant, Markus's knot shrinks, and his cock slides out of me, chased by a gush of shameful proportions, a waterfall of pale cream that pours out of me and puddles on the ground between my open legs.

"Holy Source!" says a voice from somewhere nearby.

The other young alpha, the one named Brik, is staring in wide-eyed amazement at the sheer amount of semen that just came flowing out of me. My head feels like it might explode from the amount of blood and heat that is suddenly rushing into my face. I've never been so mortified in all my life.

"Quiet, Brik," Thorus snaps at his companion. "Make yourself useful and give Markus a hand up."

Brik complies, though he's clearly reluctant about it. As he helps Markus to his feet, the two young alphas eye each other warily.

It is Thorus who helps me to my own feet. I manage to stand up, but my legs feel a bit wobbly after everything Thorus just did to me, and everything I did to Markus before that. It's been an eventful morning, to say the least. I look around at the dead and dismembered Farlanders scattered around us.

"Source," I whisper.

"Indeed," says Thorus, in his deep rumbling baritone. "It is time for us to leave this place."

"Wait!" I cry, covering my breasts and genitals with my hands. I suppose it's a little silly to do that, considering that all three of these alphas have already seen everything my body has to offer. Still, I'm not used to being naked around males like this, and I'm eager to hide the private parts of my body from their eyes. "My clothes are in the mausoleum—"

"And that's where they're going to stay," Thorus says.

"But—"

"No buts," Thorus growls. "We're not going back inside that cursed place. This cemetery is the realm of the dead ancestors, and we've already disturbed them enough with our intrusion. I'm still not clear on what the two of you were doing here to begin with, but we can delay that discussion until we are someplace safe."

"The Central Ruins?" I ask fearfully.

"In your state? Not a chance. You're still in heat, omega, and you will be for some time. I wouldn't dare take you back there and leave you to the mercy of all those alphas."

That answer brings me relief, but only a little.

"Where then?" I ask.

"Brik and I have a hideout we sometimes use when we need to rest. It is not far from here. If we hurry, we can reach it by this afternoon." He glances over at his companion. "Brik will carry you."

Before I have a chance to refuse the offer, I am lifted off the ground and slung over the young alpha's shoulder like some prey he is bringing home from a hunting trip.

"Hey!" I shout, "Put me down! I don't need to be carried."

My protest is answered with a sharp smack to my backside, which is shamefully exposed and bent over Brik's muscular shoulder. At first, I think Brik is the one who smacked me, but I quickly realize it was Thorus. The older alpha moves around behind his sidekick so he can look me in the eye. The gentle caretaker has transformed into a stern disciplinarian.

"Don't shout," he says in a quiet growl. "Do you wish to draw the attention of every alpha in the Zone?"

I scowl defiantly, but I keep my voice low, lest I should receive another smack on my bottom.

"I don't need to be carried."

"Oh yes you do, omega. How do you think the Farlanders found you here? How do you think Brik and I found you? It was your scent, woman. You left a scent trail even an Outsider could have followed. Carrying you won't eliminate your scent trail completely, but it will help."

"Then let me carry her," Markus says, eyeing Brik jealously.

"No," Thorus says. "You're in no state to be carrying anybody at the moment. You've taken a nasty crack on your jaw, and you've lost a lot of fluids too. You'll be lucky if you can keep your legs under you til we get to our hideout."

"But—"

Thorus cuts him off with a low growl that says he's in no mood to argue.

"You had your chance to carry the omega. Maybe if you'd carried her here instead of letting her walk, you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. Now shut up and follow me."

Thorus turns and starts to jog across the graveyard, weaving in and out between the stones. Markus looks slightly abashed after his scolding, but he follows after the older alpha. A moment later, Brik starts to follow them too, with me draped over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, omega," the young alpha says. "I will take good care of you."