The Alpha's Resurrection (The AfterEnd Omegaverse Book 3) by Marlowe Roy

Author:Marlowe Roy [Roy, Marlowe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Jake

He woke, as he always did, surprised that he'd fallen asleep. With no idea of the time, the dark of night loomed outside the door, and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. In an instant, the knife he kept near for protection was in his hand, and he stood in readiness for who knew what. An ominous foreboding enveloped him. He was awake, but why?

Rain showered down, slapping against the crinkled material of the tarp slung over the roof. In the past week, he and Colt had finished the roof, but attached a tarp until he could waterproof everything. Jake listened deeply, straining his ears to hear over the wind and through the rustle of the trees and beyond the clattering raindrops on the plastic above him. It hit him then: a low, animal sound.

His groin reacted before his brain did, tightening as if to veer him toward the source. The noise wasn't a hum of discomfort or distress at all but a soft, keening cry of another type altogether. His Alpha nature charged back to the forefront of his mind, and without a single thought, he blasted through the doorframe, oblivious to anything but tracking the sound to its origin. Another muffled cry drifted up the hill and confirmed the location.

The lake.

Who would be at the lake in the middle of the night in the middle of a storm? His legs pumped harder, all hesitancy erased, all focus attuned to his destination. The air, thick with precipitation, clouded his olfaction, frustrating him with the hindrance. If it was her, was she okay? Was she alone, or were the noises he heard of a coupling nature? His Alpha roared, enraged at the suggestion. Now that he'd touched her, tasted her, and felt the solid softness of her body pinned under his, that knowledge belonged to him. And him alone.

He cut a rough path through the woods, the wet leaves and grass slippery under his feet and turning to mud. It squished between his toes, and he lost his footing once or twice, but each sultry whimper propelled him forward, and the absence of any answering Alpha-timbre tone did not fail to escape his notice either.

The edges of the beach opened up, and he skittered onto the well-trudged path, recalling the many nights he'd walked this same course toward their clandestine lessons.

Close now, Zorah's distinctive scent raced up his nose and exploded into his awareness. Holy shit. Her bright citrus had transformed into something thick and sensual. He caught the clear tang of slick, and it twisted his stomach with need. He was losing control and didn't know what he'd do when he found her.

It didn't take long. Tucked away on the edge of the beach, as far away as possible from the trail, Zorah knelt on hands and knees, naked, her body undulating and rocking in an unmistakably erotic rhythm. Well, on her knees and one hand, that was. Her other hand worked between her legs,

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