Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

LUCAS

I don't know what's worse, thinking of Ronan as our pack alpha in this situation or my big brother, whom I will forever idolize and look up to. He's feral and isn't showing signs of getting better. That is until the basement door is thrown wide and Elliott is escorted through with a look of complete horror on his tear-stained face.

It takes a moment for Ronan to react, but soon his furrowed brows shoot up, his eyes widen, and he snaps his head over to me.

I hardly hear Casey's broken cry at seeing his alpha in such a state. I'm too focused on the overwhelming chaos surrounding me and having nobody to guide me in the right direction.

What the fuck am I supposed to be doing?!

"Luc-Lucas listen to me," Ronan growls out, having to clear his throat. "She wants you. Freya wants you even if she can't explicitly say it. Fuck, I should have told Eli the same thing," he mumbles.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest, but I'm saved from having to say something when my brother shakes his head and continues. "You have to take care of her. Do everything she asks. Soothe our omega, okay? It's gonna be just fine. She needs us. She needs you to help her even if she isn't lucid."

"I—" I choke. "What?"

Elliott's door is slammed closed, but the big bastard doesn't even move. He just stares off into the distance with anguish rolling off him in waves, making my anxiety so much worse. Then my cage rattles, and I'm being grabbed by the group of enforcers.

"Lucas! Listen to me!" Ronan shoots forward, grabbing my shirt through the bars. "Treat her like a queen. Ignore everything else but our mate. Please, take care of her. It's the only way!"

Ronan's feral, Elliott's a shell of himself, and it looks like I'm next.

--

Ignore everything else. That's what Ronan said, right? He knew what he was asking of me. He fucking knew it! And yet, he didn't warn me about what exactly I'd have to ignore.

My mate is in chains. Not only is Freya trapped to the wall, but she's completely bare besides what I am assuming is Elliott's shirt in her lap. No bed, no blankets, not even a goddamn pillow.

Honestly, I'm shocked she got to keep the big shirt since it looks like these bastards are doing everything to keep Freya uncomfortable.

How... how the absolute fuck am I supposed to ignore this?! It's wrong. Everything is so wrong.

The circumstances I might be able to get past, but not the behavior of my omega. From the moment I stepped in this room with Ken and the enforcers at my back, my omega hasn't moved.

Freya's tantalizing scent spiked as the door swung closed behind me. Now there is no sign she's aware of anything around her. On bare knees, my omega sits hunched over her thighs, the only sign of movement being her shallow breaths.

"Ah, so we can learn," Ken praises, going so far as to give her a big smile.

Who the hell is this guy?!

I know what these people are after now thanks to Beckett and his big mouth, but Ken seriously needs to get checked out. Everything about him screams delusional.

"Alright, so here's the deal, ball boy." I snarl at the fucker's nickname for me. I am more than football . "Your little mate needs a cock and a bond to survive the next spike, which is starting right about... now!"

Okay, I knew that . I knew this was happening, but there is no way to prepare for it as I'm left locked alone in a hospital looking room with my mate. My mate who lets out the longest, most heartbreaking whine once the lock clicks and we're officially alone.

I gulp, feeling my jaw tick and all my muscles bunch. "Freya, sweetheart. Can you look at me?"

She shuffles on her knees. If I had known it would take something as small as seeing my girl's knees bright red against the fucking tile to set my alpha off, I would have had a tighter grip on my instincts.

But I didn't and I don't.

Faster than I've ever run for a football, I burst toward my mate with a snarl ripping from my throat. Black spots force my focus on my omega, who's now in my arms and pinned between my heaving chest and the walls.

Chains. Wrists. Ankles.

Must fix.

"Alpha," my sweetheart pleads and wiggles.

I blink, shaking my head loose of the alpha urges trying to distract me from what Freya truly needs. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

Speaking is like forcing gravel through my throat, but I'll suppress my murderous and protective urges for her.

"You. You, Alpha. Knot, knot, knot." With each word, her hot little pussy grinds against me, her slick soaking through my pants. " BITE !"

Do everything she asks.

Chains. Bruises. Cold. Fever. Shivers.

Ignore everything else.

Needs a cock and bond to survive.

It's the only way.

I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my head against Freya's overheated shoulders. Just one moment. I just need a second. So many voices are roaring through my brain, but only one matters.

"Luke."

I snap my head up, eyes widening at my name on her lips. Locking my gaze on hers, I watch fascinated and terrified as her eyes flicker between lucidity and a sexy, lusty haze.

A half smile graces her lips. "Please, Lucas. I want you." Then a fire lights in her eyes and her lips curls in a snarl. " Need you! "

At her pure omega snarl, I descend into madness. Madness coated in slick and love bites. My knees slam to the ground, finally giving my mate the leeway with the chains to wrap her legs around my waist.

The dark spots are back and my alpha surges forward, vicious with the need to please our mate. To soothe her. Give her orgasms, force her pert little body to writhe on mine until she's wrung so far out that nothing matters but every fevered touch I give her.

My cock is out and bobbing with need. Perky, pale breasts are arched to the ceiling. Her pussy fucking convulses and tries to suck my three fingers deeper, then slick coats my entire hand.

Vanilla chocolate explodes on my tongue, the urge to taste her explosive cunt too hard to ignore.

Why would I ignore it? She's mine. This omega in mine .

My omega!

"MINE!"

Throbbing warmth soothes the furious ache in my cock. Heels dig into my ass, driving me further, deeper, harder. More, more, more.

"BITE!" my omega screeches, her teeth flashing.

That. That's the more we need.

Like my knot locking itself inside my mate, my canines and gums are coated with a rush of hot blood, soothing the urgent need to bite. To bond.

And as that tether snaps into place like a strike of fucking lightning, connecting us forever, I feel the hum of my claim and my mate's matching possessiveness.

Mine.

My omega.

My sweetheart.