Then, when did this hatred and fear from my pack start?
“Ramos?”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I realized I’d reached my room. Marilyn had called out to me, her hands rubbing sleepily at her eyes as she yawned. I took in her scantily clad appearance, the lust I felt for her fighting against the unease that seemed to want to consume me.
“Are you done working?” she asks, hands dropping onto her lap as she looks at me with wide, sleepy eyes.
“I am,” I admit, walking towards my bed and shrugging off my clothes with each step. She watches me, her eyes locked on mine, and for a brief moment, I notice a flicker of disgust, but then it is gone. Confused, I stop just a foot from the bed, wondering if the unease is making me see things—the look of complete adoration she usually has on her face has returned.
“What’s wrong?” Marilyn asks, patting my side of the bed.
“Nothing,” I mumble, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. That’s right, nothing is wrong at all. Everything I feel is just my imagination, probably from the stress of planning an attack on Ivory Fangs.
“Nothing is wrong,” I repeat as convincingly as I can, although I’m unsure if I am trying to convince Marilyn or myself.
Climbing into bed, I pull Marilyn into my arms and breathe in her sweet honey scent. Her soft body is still clothed in a thin nightgown, one that only takes a claw to cut off her.
“Ramos!” she squeals in surprise, her breasts falling free from the now-destroyed nightgown.
“Shh, my love. I just need your touch,” I declare, my voice firm as I push her onto her back and claim her perky breast with my mouth. She lets out a short gasp as I suckle from her breast, my free hand moving to tease and pinch the other nipple.
“Ra-Ramos. It’s too late,” Marilyn protests, but I chuckle.
“No, Marilyn. It’s not too late for you to be fucked,” I state, claiming the other nipple and moving my hands down her exposed body to her little pussy that always takes me greedily. She moans beneath me, her legs spreading further apart. I can feel just how ready she is for me, how ripe her body is for the fucking.
The shrill sounds of sirens scream through the night, causing me to pull away from Marilyn with a snarl. Who the fuck would sound the alarm when there’d been no warning from those patrolling the borders? Cursing this horrid timing, I leave Marilyn in bed and grab the pants I discarded, throwing them back on.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, grabbing the arm of the first omega I see.
“We’re under attack!” she exclaims, fear in her eyes.
“By who?” I growl out, shaking with rage.
“By us,” a female voice calls, her tone so cold that it sends shivers down my spine. I turn to face the intruder.
There, at the landing of the fifth floor, stand the two wolves I didn’t expect to see for another two weeks. Lucas and Kaylee, wearing all black and smelling like the blood of my men, look like Gods of death coming to take their revenge on me. Their power, emanating in waves, makes me shiver like a weak pup.
“Hi, Dad,” Lucas says, his eyes so black that I can see my reflection in them. “I’ve come back for my pack.”
71
Kaylee
Keeping my gaze neutral as I try to fight back the laughter threatening to spill with Lucas’ greeting to Ramos, I watch the omega wiggle free of Ramos’ grasp and run down the hall towards another room.
“L-Lucas,” Ramos stutters as Lucas takes a step towards him. “What are you doing here in Oak Fur after turning your back on it?” he demands, his words becoming confident. It seems Ramos still has some bravado left after how cowardly he’s been acting.
“Like Lucas said a moment ago,” I decide to answer, leaning against the staircase railing. “As its rightful alphas, Lucas and I are back for our pack.”
My words hit their mark, and Ramos clenched his jaw in annoyance. I can’t help the smirk that grows as Ramos chooses to ignore me to focus on Lucas. He sees my mate as thebiggest threat from the two of us, and that’s fine. Having an opponent underestimate me makes the beating I give them oh-so-satisfying.
“Ramos,” a shrill voice calls from the open door. Lucas stops walking, his head cocking to the left. My smirk grows—it seems my prey has decided to present itself.
“Why is the alarm blaring?” Marilyn steps out of the room towards her mate as if on cue. She takes in Ramos’ stiff stance, the fear he tries to hide floating in the air, and the direction of his gaze as she grows closer to him, her body hastily clothed in a baggy T-shirt. I can tell that Marilyn is confused, her brows furrowed, but she hasn’t yet noticed Lucas and me.
“Marilyn, go back into the bedroom,” Ramos orders, his voice threateningly low.
“Why should I when no one is telling me, the Luna, why that alarm is blaring?” Marilyn snaps back in a bratty voice. I watch Lucas wince, regret flashing in his eyes as he stares in disgust at her. Being with her for years must have been a nightmare.
