60

I turn to study her, and once again our eyes lock on the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the destroyed walls.

Are these two, mates? They must be. The omega is in heat. But her scent is weak. Alpha is meeting her needs.

His neck, however, leaves no mark. There's a dark rectangular symbol, an Outsider tattoo, but no sign of his dog's teeth.

He still hasn't tagged her.

She's still unclaimed and her heat is calling to me, sending my body into a rut. It's clouding my judgment as my blood is redirected from my brain to my hardened cock. "Orchid!" a voice growls from below.

Is this the name of the omega? Orchid? It's an odd Outsider name, but it somehow draws my desire for her.

She could be called anything, and it wouldn't matter.

All that matters is that I bury my knotted cock deep inside her and paint her womb with my hot Alpha seed.

" Orchid," the Alpha calls again from below.

The omega just stands there, brandishing her knife and gun. For a moment I think she really is going to at