Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance by Callie Rhodes (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) 📗

down, black-market traders were the only source of supplies from the outside world and the only buyers for the alphas’ goods.

In no mood for company, Vonn still had to walk past the crowd to get to somewhere more private. At least everyone present, alpha and beta, was still sober enough to give Vonn room as he passed by along the weathered walkway. He took the path that led from the roadhouse to the shed where Trace stored empty kegs and bottles. There was a bench there that would do just fine while Vonn made his way to the bottom of the bottle.

He sipped like he was on the clock, steadily and with purpose, but no matter how much liquor he downed, it still wasn't enough to stamp out the memory that burned in his head day and night.

With a few inches left in the bottle, Vonn let out a hair-raising string of curses that scared off a few birds unlucky enough to have bedded down in the branches above him. He'd sworn he wasn't going to do this again, wasn't going to come all the way down here just to spend the night trying to escape things he couldn't change, mistakes that couldn't be undone.

Gray's advice echoed in his head, though his 'good exercise in self-control' wouldn't do a damn thing to drive out Vonn's demons. Still, the old son of a bitch had a point.

Plain common sense should have kept Vonn from doing what he'd done on a dozen other nights like these and expecting a different result. Alcohol rarely helped, and right now, it seemed to be making things worse. His liquor-soaked brain was no match for the memories that began to flood his mind now that he was alone.

From the moment he'd laid eyes on that beta almost three months ago, Vonn had known there was something special about her. Scratch that—he'd sensed it from the moment he heard her footfalls in the loamy underbrush as she approached the edge of the woods where Vonn had been banging one of Miss Daisy's girls.

If he hadn't been balls-deep in the lovely Candy, Vonn might have stopped to wonder where the unusual, intoxicating note in her scent came from. As it was, he attributed it to sheer horniness. Whatever it was, having an audience while he was laying pipe with a cheerful working girl only heightened his pleasure. He drank in the scent of her arousal while he rode Candy harder, wild with lust, eliciting the kind of moans that couldn't be scripted even by a pro. As she got more and more turned on, the stranger’s desire was balanced by an equally strong vein of submission, and she began to take shape in his mind, this delectably shy beta girl who liked to watch.

She didn't know that he'd spotted her, of course. Otherwise, a girl like her, ashamed of what she couldn't deny, would have run away like a scared little rabbit. Vonn wasn't about to spook her, not when he could sense what the sight of him and Candy screwing was doing to her.

As Vonn gave her one hell of a show, taking Candy in one position after another and making her come like a Mack truck while also making sure his little voyeur got a good view of his huge cock plunging in and out, he realized that he wouldn't be content just to tease her like this. While his cock was happy enough in the talented, professional pussy of a Boundarylands prostitute, what it really wanted—needed—was hiding in the trees not ten feet away.

He should have known she was a dormant omega. How else to explain that extraordinary scent, the strange pull he'd felt? But by the time Vonn realized what his little voyeur really was, his closest alpha brother had already touched her, igniting her dormant omega nature and claiming her for his own.

Vonn was left destroyed, both unbearably empty and filled with a howling rage. As it happened, he was buried deep inside Miss Daisy herself when the change had happened, pounding her on a barstool while his brother Trace entertained the lady in the storeroom he used for an office. If he'd known she was a dormant omega…if he'd realized what Trace was about to do—well, that was a crap pile of useless bullshit shoulda, woulda, couldas. All that mattered was that a primal switch had been flipped inside Vonn that night.

Once he realized what was happening—and Vonn would never forget the electric jolt he felt as the new omega's nature took root—he'd jumped off Miss Daisy and tried to break into the storeroom, driven by pure instinct and need. It was a good thing that the door held because if Vonn could have pounded it down, he would have.

And blood would have been spilled. It was likely that only one of them, he or Trace, would have survived to claim the little omega with the shiny gold hair and the delicate features.

Vonn had been struggling to turn back that switch ever since that night, to no avail.

Since it happened, Vonn couldn't bear to be around Trace or his omega. The urge to take her was still in his blood—not her exactly, but the omega in her. He didn't actually know anything about the woman that couldn’t be learned from her scent.

'Submissive voyeur' was only part of her personality; contrary to the lies the beta government spread, the omegas that Vonn had met were as diverse and independent as any beta women. Trace's omega might be funny or serious; creative or analytical, cautious or impulsive. Hell, she and Vonn might not even like each other if they ever got to know each other.

But none of that mattered. Now that he'd breathed in that scent, tasted it on his tongue, felt that fire igniting in his veins, he hadn't found a second of satisfaction in anything. Work, sex, drink, Vonn had thrown himself into all of them, but none had helped.

And the feeling