Omega Mine

Chapter Seven

Diskant was scraping the last remnants of pancake batter into the frying pan when he heard the door to the garage creak open. Only one person had the key to his place, and he wasn’t surprised Trey would want the 4-1-1 on what went down after he left the club with Ava.

Alphas, as a general rule, weren’t known for their patience.

“Get out of here, Oscar.”

Sidestepping the groveling mutt crowding his legs, Diskant managed to toss the now-empty bowl into the sink and retrieve the spatula just as Trey strolled into the kitchen with a smug grin on his face. His conceited smile only broadened when he caught sight of the smorgasbord waiting on a breakfast tray. He walked directly to the table, snagged a sausage link and popped it into his mouth.

“Take anything else,” Diskant threatened, “and I’m coming after it.”

“There’s no way she’ll eat all of this.” Trey motioned at the mile-high stack of pancakes, mounds of sausage and pile of eggs.

“Don’t fuck with me. I’m not in the mood.”

Trey arched an eyebrow and backed away from the food. “Are you still pissed about last night? I only won the lap dance to keep you from ripping some dumb schmuck a new one. I didn’t think you’d want to ruin her birthday completely.”

He whipped around, abandoning the steaming pancake. “Her what?”

“Her birthday.” Trey went silent, studying him. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, damn it,” he confessed guiltily and returned to the thin confection of flour, milk and eggs. “We didn’t waste a helluva lot of time talking.”

“Things must have gone well. It’s obvious you gave her the first mark. Your mating scent is all over the place.”

The innocent remark brought on his foul temper again, and he removed the flapjack so carelessly it almost landed on the floor.

The first mark.

Fuck if that wasn’t one of the worst things he’d ever had to experience. He’d been aware the process was painful and knew of some mates who put off the second and third marks because of it. For the longest time he couldn’t understand why a male wouldn’t force compliance and claim his mate with or without her consent. It was what was expected, what they had to do to guarantee the longevity, safety and strength of the shifter race. The second stage of the bloodbond wasn’t as draining, although it was as excruciating. It was the third mark mates dreaded most, the final stage that cemented the union, when the animal within the shifter became a part of the human.

He’d planned to bloodbond Ava to right away, to ensure she would always remain at his side.

But now… Now he didn’t want to imagine Ava suffering like that again.

How the mighty have fallen.

Trey slid into an empty chair at the table. “So how did she take the news?”

“The news?”

“About shifters.”

Diskant hesitated before he answered, “She already knew about us.”

Trey got very quiet, which wasn’t a good thing. Diskant knew what he was thinking, because he’d had the same concern when he learned Ava wasn’t as naïve as he believed. Few humans knew of about the existence of supernatural creatures, and the majority who did was comprised of people who studied them out of curiosity or hunted them down to kill them off.

“Did she happen to explain how?”

“No.” He shook his head and walked to the fridge to retrieve the orange juice.

“D, this isn’t something you can pussyfoot around. If she’s involved with the Villati, she’ll have to make a clean break.”

“She’s not involved.”

“How do you know that?”

Diskant plopped the orange juice on the table, braced his hands on either side of the carton and leveled with Trey. “Brett McGovern would never allow a member of the Villati to work for him. He’s better at blending in and likes to keep appearances but wouldn’t take the risk. He does a full background on his employees and from what I gathered,” he growled at the memory of the warlocke’s eyes on Ava and stood tall, “he knows my mate better than he should.”

“You need to talk to her.” Trey patted his leg and Oscar obediently scrambled over for attention. “There are rules and protocol to follow. Does she realize just how much her life is going to change?” Trey stopped lavishing attention on the dog and sat up when Diskant didn’t respond, narrowed amber eyes glowing honey-gold. “Tell me that you told her what was going to happen before you marked her.”

“What does it matter? It’s not like it would change anything.” He snatched the small glass from the tray and plopped it down in front of him. “You know how this works. We find, we mate, we claim. All of the discussion in the world won’t change shit. It is what it is.”

“And do you think she’s going to be fine with quitting her job, turning her back on her old life and embracing the pack as her family? What if she has a family of her own? Did you think about that? What are you going to do if she refuses to play along and begin the painful process of cutting them out of her life before they begin to notice she’s not aging?”

Diskant turned from Trey and stomped to the pantry. There wasn’t much he could say. Eventually Pinkie’s friends and family would begin to notice the subtle changes that signified the marks between them. Aging was the most apparent physical system her friends and family would notice, but her accelerated rate of healing and enhanced senses would inform Ava something was different.

Trey wisely changed the subject. “How did she come through the first mark?”

“With a hell of a lot of pain,” he grumbled and swiped the bottle of syrup from the top shelf.

“Did she pass out after?”

He closed his eyes at the vision of Ava resting peacefully in his arms. She was beautiful when she slept, her small blonde head nestling perfectly into the crook of his arm. He must have lain there for an hour taking her in, enjoying the feel of her shallow exhalation against his skin, the rightness of her body pressed against him.

Opening his eyes and turning around, he nodded. “She didn’t even stir when I climbed out of bed.”

“That’s good. She needs the rest.”

The men lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as Diskant dressed the tray. The situation was fucked up, and they both knew it. Trey was twice as old and had been waiting twice as long for his mate. Pretending it wasn’t an issue was like ignoring a rabid, child-eating circus elephant dressed in a pink tutu that was coming right at you.

As Diskant was placing the glass of orange juice in the only space remaining on the serving dish, Trey breached the quiet. “What did Kinsley have to say about the missing cat? Did they find anything?”

Relieved for the change in subject, he asked, “Aside from the vehicle?” Diskant peered up and at Trey’s affirming nod answered, “No.”

“Damn.” Trey’s thick brows came together as he frowned.

Diskant understood the concern. This was the ninth shifter to go missing in three weeks. Each case was eerily similar—abandoned vehicles and no trace of the occupant.

“It’s probably best to send a few of our best noses over to see if they can pick up a scent as a precaution.”

“We won’t find anything,” Trey said. “Whoever is responsible cleans house like a pro.”

“All the more reason to send someone. I wanted to spend the morning with Ava, but I can take the trip after we have the opportunity to talk. I’m sure she’ll want to retrieve some of her things to make herself comfortable here, so I can stop by while she packs.”

Trey didn’t bother masking a grin. “Are you sure she’s looking to relocate?”

“Does it sound like I’m giving her a choice?”

“Fair enough.” Trey pushed Oscar aside and rose from the chair. “Don’t worry about Kinsley. I’ll take care of it.” The Alpha combed his fingers through his hair and sighed, shifting his feet. “I guess its best you hear this from me before word gets out. Emory showed up on Minxy’s doorstep this morning. She called after he crashed in the guest bedroom. I wanted to stop by before I made my way over there. I’ll borrow his nose while we work out our issues.”

Diskant knew his shock at the revelation was obvious. “Emory’s back?”

“Don’t ask me, man.” Trey shrugged. “Something bad must’ve gone down for him to show up here. I can’t exactly turn my back on him. It’s not like he’s a mutt.”

No, Emory wasn’t a mutt. Not by any stretch. Trey’s younger brother was a powerful Alpha in his own right—which was one of the many reasons he’d left New York in the first place.

The sound of water traveling through the pipes upstairs had Trey glancing at the ceiling as Diskant’s entire body came to life. His blood rushed from one head to the other.

Finally, she was awake.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Trey walked to the kitchen entrance and stopped. Meeting Diskant’s eyes, he grinned. “Take it easy on her. It’s your job to make sure she doesn’t wear herself down.”

Diskant snagged the tray and ignored the comment. “You know the way out.”

“That I do.” Trey smirked before he vanished around the corner.

When Ava roused from sleep, she braced herself to experience some level of shame or remorse for her behavior when sultry images of the night before flashed through her head. How would she explain herself in the light of day? Would Diskant want another one for the road? If so, would she give it to him?

Her body hummed with sexual fulfillment and satiation, answering her question.

There was no way she could pass up the opportunity to partake in the greatest sex she’d ever had in her life, only this time she fully intended to explore his body as thoroughly as he had hers.

A chill shot down her spine as another, less appealing thought surfaced.

What should she say if he wasn’t interested and told her to get the hell out?

“Thanks for the great lay.” She envisioned herself stammering in embarrassment as she stumbled out the door. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

Her worry over dealing with the morning-after song and dance was short-lived when she opened her eyes and discovered she was alone. She was surprised at the hurt that arose at Diskant’s absence but immediately chastised herself for it. She had never engaged in a one-night stand but was certain the protocol with shifter and human men was the same.

Shifter or no, Diskant was a man, and men always made sure they were the first to flee from the scene of a possible commitment. Now that the lust had left the building, he could happily admit what had happened between them was nothing more than another meaningless sexual encounter. It was a damn shame too, because the man had rocked her world in so many ways he would become the unachievable standard every other hapless suitor would be held to.

A flicker of the nightmare she’d had appeared in her head—darkness, pain, odd odors and sensations—and she tried to recall what had happened after that final mind-blowing orgasm that sent her into a deep, unshakable sleep. The dream and the reality seemed to merge at that point but she was so exhausted she couldn’t piece when one vanished and became the other.

“Maybe it was the wine,” she murmured and sat upright.

Holding her breath, she extended her limbs and stretched, bringing the sore muscles to life. To her shock, the world didn’t tilt or spin. In fact, she felt absolutely fantastic. Apparently a night of excellent sex was just what the doctor ordered.

She hadn’t felt so good in years.

Shoving aside the toasty-warm sheets and comforter, she climbed from the bed, retrieved her strewn clothing minus her savaged undergarments and walked to the open door next to what she already knew was the closet. A large master bathroom beckoned, the beautiful whitewash tile gleaming when she flipped the light switch. A clawed tub was situated against the far wall, a walk-in shower stall was at the right and a small matching sink was to the left.

Placing her clothing on the counter, she made a beeline for the walk-in. A quick shower to wash away the events from the night before and she’d be on her way. She waited until the heavy stream from the showerhead was good and hot before she stepped inside. The sensation of the scorching water against her skin caused her to gasp and then groan in pleasure. Tilting her chin back, she drenched her hair under the spray, keeping her eyes closed.

First things first.

She would finish taking a shower, get dressed, bid adieu to her host and take her ass home. No sense in delaying the inevitable. Besides, the trip to Tennessee was still a go. She had to meet with Thomas, get the deed and keys to the cabin and then…

Cold air brought her back to reality as the stall door was opened. Swiping the water from her eyes, she yipped in alarm when a pair of large hands wrapped around her stomach and brought her back against a very hard, warm and nude body.

Diskant’s head came down until his hair brushed against her shoulder. “You ruined my plans, Ava mine,” he breathed into her ear.

“Plans?” She wanted to cringe at how husky her voice was.

“Breakfast in bed, for starters.”

Her legs quaked and her pussy moistened at the mention of the word bed.

So he does want one for the road.

“That’s okay.” She cleared her throat and attempted to regain her composure. “I’ll pick something up on the way home.”

“You are home.”

He nipped at her ear and a floodgate opened between her thighs. The world seemed to shift and distort, eyes seeing everything yet nothing at all. Desire overcame logic, the need to feel the thick, heavy length of his cock buried inside her eradicating rational thought. Her nipples hardened, throbbing as the skin went taut and the areolas pebbled.

Diskant’s hands surrounded the mounds and he began plucking the peaks, pressing his body flush against her until his cock was nestled at the cleft of her ass. “Do you want something, Ava?”

“I don’t…I need…I want…” She tried to clear her head. She was drowning in this man. If she didn’t do something soon, she wouldn’t be able to deny him or herself.

“To come?” he offered, licking her nape. “I’d love to make you come. Just tell me how you want it.”

Nothing made sense. There was only a haze of sexual frenzy. She plopped her hands onto the tile in front of her and wriggled her ass in invitation. Heaven help her, she wanted nothing more than him lodged inside her.

Hard, fast, frenzied. No foreplay, no warm-up.

Just him.

He released her breasts and wrapped an arm around her waist. He lifted her easily and used his free hand to guide the head of his cock to the drenched folds of her pussy, which felt both electrified and impossibly sensitive.

“Like this?” he asked and pressed into her wet heat, stretching and possessing her, inch by maddening inch.

“Yes. Oh god, yes.”

“How does that feel, baby?”

She whimpered and leaned forward as he pressed her closer to the wall, placing her forehead against the tile and taking shelter from the water as he blanketed her from above.

A deft rotation of his hips and he was pumping into her in smooth steady strokes, pulling out until only the tip remained inside before plunging back in, slow and even, so wonderful yet not enough. Situated as she was, there was no way to assist the movement, to find the position that would send her over.

“Please.” She moaned, desperate for release.

“Is this what you need?” His free hand came around and dipped past her stomach, his middle finger finding and manipulating her clit. Crying out, she arched her back and lifted her head, pushing her shoulders against him.

“Diskant.” She was so close.

So damn close…

“This time we’ll take the edge off. But next time I want all of you, Ava. Inside and out. Last night was only the beginning.” The heat of his breath caressed her nape and she felt the sharp scrape of teeth against her flesh. “Come for me.”

She screamed when his fangs pierced her skin and convulsed as he pinned her to the wall as an orgasm tore through her. Trapped, she had no choice but to ride out the sensations, to take what he wanted to give her. Both hands were on her hips now, forcing her back as he drove forward. His thrusts were borderline violent, his grip becoming painful as the tips of his claws extended and broke the surface of her skin.

“Going to come so hard,” he snarled around her shoulder, the words garbled. “Your cunt feels so fucking good gripping my cock.”

Then he was spilling inside her, the heat of his seed bathing and coating her womb. Exotic scents of male, musk and animal suffused the air and she shivered as another, smaller climax washed over her and she lost her grip on the wall, her water-slick torso sliding limply against the ceramic tile. Diskant’s hand came around to hold her steady as he continued to pump his hips and release into her, the head of his penis pressing into the softness of her cervix once—then again—before finally going still.

His teeth slid free of her ravaged skin at the same time his shaft slid from her body.

“That’s so good,” he groaned and began lapping at the area he’d bitten, soothing the aching burn with his tongue.

A nod of acquiescence was all she could manage. Her entire body was soaring, floating off the high gained by a rip-roaringly good orgasm. He lowered her feet to the floor and though she worried she might stumble, her legs somehow managed to remain steady. Two good twists of the faucets, courtesy of Diskant, and the flow of the shower ebbed and stopped, leaving them coated in nothing more than a thick steam and cooling beads of water.

Grasping her shoulders tenderly with now claw-free fingers, he turned her around and dropped to a knee. Wrapping his hand around her upper thighs, he drew her close and began lavishing the same attention on the thin scratches along her hips and abdomen as he had the punctures at her throat. She shivered at the contact of his tongue, closing her eyes and basking the afterglow of climax.

“Let’s get some food in you.” He pressed a kiss to her navel before rising to his full height. She lifted her chin, following the line of his muscular thighs, drifting past the sinewy six-pack and wide chest with a scattering of hair until she gazed into his face.

He was huge—huge and impressive. The eyes that met hers were their usual tawny-gold color, his dark brows drawn down as he observed her closely.

“What?” she asked self-consciously and forced herself to remain still.

“How do you feel?” He lifted both his hands and cradled her biceps, stroking her arms with tender fingers.

She grinned, playful despite the unfamiliar calm that blanketed her. “Fishing for compliments?”

The serious expression evaporated and he returned her grin. “What if I am?”

She shrugged, enjoying the way his still-moist fingers felt against her steamy skin. “I wouldn’t suggest holding your breath.”

“Minx.”

He snagged her under the knees with one hand, placed the other around her back and lifted her effortlessly into his chest. The heat from his skin surrounded her, providing a barrier from the chill of the bathroom that wafted toward them when he opened the shower door and stepped out.

Brushing aside her protests, he toweled her body dry and didn’t move away until she began the tedious task of sliding into her cigarette-reeking clothes, starting with her slacks sans underwear. She held her breath as she reached for her shirt, trying not to choke. Normally the smell wasn’t so obvious or so offensive. As if he sensed her discomfort, Diskant moved in front of her and hoisted his sweatshirt over her head.

“Arms up,” he instructed and slid the garment down her torso when she did as he asked. Her head popped through the collar and he grinned as her hair scattered in all directions, a few wisps falling across her forehead.

“What are you grinning at?” She scowled, shoved the too-long sleeves to her elbows and combed her fingers through her mop of hair.

“Not a thing,” he answered evasively and slid into a pair of well-worn jeans, going commando.

She watched the teeth of the zipper slide past tanned skin and the thatch of ebony hair and experienced a fresh wave of desire. That zipper was going in the wrong direction entirely. In fact, she’d love nothing more than to rip the denim off his hips, fall to her knees and give him a proper good morning…

“I hope you’re hungry. I made breakfast for lunch.”

“Breakfast for lunch?” She shook her head clear of the sexual fog. “What time is it?”

“It was a quarter to two when I came upstairs.”

Her stomach sank and all sexual thought dissipated.

Two o’clock? Damn!

She rushed out of the bathroom, chanting “shoes, shoes, shoes”, aware of Diskant’s baffled expression, which quickly became impatient. After she retrieved her socks and sneakers, she perched on the edge of the mattress and hurriedly put them on. She never slept late, always able to rely on the inner cuckoo clock that roused her just after seven each morning. It figured she’d break from the norm when it came to something important. If she was late to sign the papers, Thomas wouldn’t stick around. He would take the deed to the cabin and shop it elsewhere.

Thomas waited for no one—including family and especially her.

One hour was all she had to travel from the Upper East Side to Maybelle’s Diner in Queens. There was a slim chance she could make it if she got a taxi, paid extra for a bit of speed and went directly there. She started to look for her purse and cursed. Her cell was in her pants, as were her keys, but her money was inside her locker at work. She didn’t have the fare to pay for the trip.

“Do you think you’re going somewhere?” Diskant didn’t pose the question in a manner that implied he would accept anything less than an answer.

She quickly tied the laces. “I’m supposed to meet someone in less than an hour.”

“Can you call and postpone?” Damn he sounded intense when he was annoyed, like a wild bear coming across a lone hunter in the woods.

Shaking her head, she stood. “No. Thomas won’t stick around if I’m not there when I promised to be, and he won’t answer his cell just to spite me. I need to call a cab. Do you think you can spot me the fare? I can pay you—”

“Who the fuck is Thomas?”

That got her attention.

She turned and focused on Diskant. His gold irises were like liquid metal, shining so brightly she couldn’t help the instinctive reaction to place a hand to her throat and take a cautionary step back. He’d sworn that shifters wouldn’t hurt their mates—if, in fact, that was what she was to him—but considering the way he looked right now, primed and ready to kill, that fact didn’t reassure her much.

Swallowing convulsively, she squared her shoulders, managed to summon some courage and narrowed her eyes in turn. “Don’t be a Neanderthal. Thomas is my brother.”

The tension in the room eased as the glow in his eyes faded and the harsh lines around his lips and eyes receded. He started walking toward her and it took every ounce of pride and determination not to shy away when he reached out. His fingers were gentle on her elbows, palms barely cupping her forearms.

When he spoke, his voice was strained. “I apologize. I’m still struggling for control when it comes to you, and when you mentioned another male… You’re going to have to be patient with me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one to share.” His right hand traveled up her arm, coming to a stop as he draped his hand possessively around her nape and twined his fingers in the damp strands of hair. “Where are you supposed to meet him?”

Licking her suddenly parched lips, she whispered, “Maybelle’s Diner.”

“The Cajun place in Queens?” She nodded and he pulled her forward, bent at the waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let me finish getting dressed and we’ll go. We can make it if we take the bike.”

“But—” She started to argue and he placed a firm finger against her lips.

“No buts. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not until we are fully bonded. You might as well get used to the idea of having me around.”

Another “but” lingered on the tip of her tongue, along with a multitude of questions, but she chose to nod instead. Now wasn’t the time to discuss their relationship or delve into the complexities of what he referred to as bonding. Her parents’ cabin was the last thing she had left from her childhood and there was no way in hell she was letting that slip away. Thomas would hate the fact that she’d brought someone along for the meeting but he’d just have to get over it.

Diskant released her and turned, muscles in his shoulders and waist flexing seamlessly as he strode to the closet. Tearing her eyes away before she gave in to the temptation to follow, she glanced at her reflection in the large mirror hanging above the dresser and grimaced.

Her swollen lips, whisker-burned chin and neck and unruly appearance screamed, “I just had the best sex of my life.”

Not only would Thomas know she’d found a new man, so would the rest of the world.

So much for keeping her personal life personal.