An Omega's Awakening (Alpha's Woman Book 4) Read online

  An Omega’s Awakening

  The Alpha’s Woman Book Four

  Carolyn Faulkner

  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  "Spread your other leg for me, Cat," he ordered quietly, and as gently as it was issued, his command tone shone inevitably through his words.

  "Never!" she responded with nowhere near the vehemence she'd intended.

  "Your namesake is about five feet away. I wonder how many strokes it would take on the fronts of your thighs and that pretty lower belly of yours to get you to obey me? And then I would have to whip your naughty little bits, too, of course."

  Groaning and blasting air out of her mouth in deep frustration, Cat reluctantly separated her right leg from the left one he had ownership of at the moment.

  "Bend it at the knee and keep it firmly against the mattress at all times. Despite how I'm going to make you feel in a few minutes, I won't hesitate to use the cat on the very same area, and I assure you that it will hurt twice as badly if you've been pleasured beforehand."

  She almost scoffed. Pleasured. Yeah, sure. There was no such component in the proceedings for her. But when his hand rested atop that humiliatingly wide open and overwrought area, she could almost begin to believe him, but not quite. It took all she had not to raise her hips and press her most private self into that big paw of his.

  Zerk felt her check the move, though, smiling to himself and knowing that there was a good chance he was going to get exactly what he wanted from her. It would take time and probably more patience than he could rightfully claim he possessed, but in the end, he was determined that she would be his—body, mind, and soul.

  And she would be more than worth the effort and the wait, he'd already decided. What children the two of them would make, of warrior stock on both sides!

  But he tried not to get ahead of himself. Driving her out of her mind by playing up—and playing with—her own needs and desires needed to be foremost on his mind at this moment.

  So, he deliberately took his time, letting her body pave the way for him, knowing it could only help his cause. She was drenched down there, and his entire hand was slickened immediately, but he contented himself with teasing her—issuing only the most delicate of touches and never really where she wanted them—not that you would know it by her. He could tell that Cat had steeled herself against him again and was determined not to let him know that he was getting to her, but he couldn't miss the signs her body readily showed him, however subtle.

  He heard her emit another frustrated sigh that he didn't even think she knew she'd made, but he had attuned himself to everything about her. Amping up the volume and frequency of his purring earned him another, but he felt her relax almost immediately afterwards, too.

  Nothing she was trying was helping her get away from him—even if it was just into her mind. He was driving her crazy with those tentative, tepid caresses as he held her open for his exploration of her most intimate places, but she refused to let him know how he was making her feel.

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Carolyn Faulkner

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Carolyn Faulkner

  An Omega’s Awakening

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-912-1

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Carolyn Faulkner

  EBook Offer

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  Chapter 1

  "Freak!”

  The snarled insult from one of the men who was passing her in the hallway—it was impossible to tell which one—drew snickers from those around him. The thought that she could—should—dispose of the lot of them entered her mind, more out of reflex than actual desire, but she quickly dismissed it. Although that was exactly how she'd clawed her way up through the ranks, she didn't have to do that kind of thing anymore. She aspired to better things—things she'd never expected to achieve or accomplish in this miserable lifetime of hers.

  Besides, she'd heard it before, and she'd hear it again, she was quite sure, even if she ended up one day being the commander of this little bit of hell on earth. Her detractors might take a bit more care that she didn't hear it, but it would be there, regardless, and she had learned to choose her battles more carefully than she might have in the past. The likely price of retaliation wasn't worth the feeling of satisfaction that his—and his companions'—blood flowing over her hands as their eyes became lifeless would grant her.

  The commander would likely treat her in much the same fashion as she had them, and she wasn't about to lose her life for such a useless reason.

  And they weren't really wrong, either, she knew deep down, a fact that she rarely allowed herself to contemplate. She had neither the time nor the inclination to do so—she'd been too busy all her life just trying to survive, and now that she'd gotten to a better place—against all odds—she intended to stay there. Or to make an even better place for herself, preferably.

  As far as she was concerned, her only other valid option was to die in the attempt.

  She waded past the clumps of burly men who were waiting to see him, never making eye contact with any of them, either, as much more inventive and degrading—and less quietly spat—names for her met her ears. But her back remained ramrod straight as she continued to stalk by them, not about to give them the satisfaction of letting them know she'd heard them, either.

  His door was carefully nondescript—no different from any of the others down that long hall. And it was closed, but—beyond knocking brusquely—she didn't let that stop her from entering the room.

  "Commander." She stood at attention, not meeting his eyes, either.

  He looked up at her, closing and putting aside the ledger he had been working on. "You're late."

  She paled at his pronouncement, but, unlike many in her position, didn't try to make excuses or whine or beg. In fact, he watched with not a little admiration as she raised her chin and agreed calmly, "Yes, sir," remaining starkly still—and at attention—for him to issue whatever punishment he chose.

  And Zerk knew from prior experience that, no matter what he settled on—how harsh it was—she would endure it as quietly and with as much dignity as she could muster—unlike a lot of men under his command who were three times her weight and had years more experience at it than she did.

  For the first time, he took a long moment to really examine her. She was a small female, laughably so in comparison to the size of himself and his men, of whom he was indisputably the largest—and yet she had proven herself to be fiercer than most in battle. She used her size to her advantage, able to move more quickly and get to places that larger men—laden with a
rmor—couldn't.

  He had been skeptical of her at first—as had everyone else around him, most of whom he knew thought he was crazy when he allowed her into his army—and then began to promote her rather rapidly, purely based on her performance. Zerk also knew that many of those he surrounded himself with thought that he'd had her, but that was a lie. In truth, he had wondered about her at times, this woman amongst ruthless, barbarian alpha males. She could have been an Alpha female, he supposed. But as far as he—or anyone else—knew, she had never made any move towards taking any kind of a mate, which, as far as he—and those whose opinions he respected—was concerned, was one of the biggest tenets of being an Alpha, although he'd had no experience with female Alphas and couldn't be certain that that was true for them, also.

  In fact, he'd always considered her to be an Alpha, really, based on her behavior and since he had no other way to categorize her.

  And, frankly, it didn't matter to him in the least what the hell she was, as long as she continued to fight for him—and with him—as she had, despite the eyebrows it raised for him to have allowed a female not just into the ranks of his soldiers, but promoting her ahead of others and into a position that was only two below his.

  She was a strange one; that was true. But she—like he—was a force to be reckoned with, and he had always had an eye for those with talent and loyalty, and she had a surplus of both.

  A rare, fanciful thought entered his mind that he didn't really know what she looked like under her armor. He'd never seen any hint of hair, so he knew she kept it short, but that was the fashion of all of his men, as it could easily be used as a weapon against them in battle. He didn't think he'd ever seen a woman with short hair, and that made him wonder what her face looked like under that large, close fitting helmet.

  Zerk ruthlessly shoved those unwanted thoughts out of his head.

  "I have a job for you. It's very dangerous, and you likely won't be able to complete it before you're caught and killed…or worse," he added, knowing without ever having talked to her about it that the idea of becoming a sexual slave, which was quite likely if she was captured, would be a fate much worse than death to her. "But our survival could depend on it. I've sent out several others with the exact same orders, but, for some reason, I think you're the only one who's going to be able to—"

  Suddenly, his mouth snapped loudly shut as he took an impossibly deep breath, his nostrils filling with an unmistakable odor that flooded his brain with potent memories of his past. Granted, it wasn't exactly the same, but it was close enough that he knew exactly what its cause and origin was. He rose without a thought and came to stand in front of her, all nearly seven feet tall, shoulders nearly three feet wide of him, easily dwarfing her entirely without any effort on his part whatsoever.

  No wonder the men—if they weren't calling him "Berzerker", safely behind his back, they thought, for his wild, predictably ruthless moves in battle, so much so that it's diminutive had become his de facto name—were calling him "Neverest", referring both to his resemblance to the mountain, as well as the fact that he fought till the very end and then some of every fight he'd ever entered. He had a reputation for always being in the middle of the front line at the start, and one of the very last men to leave the battlefield, lending his hand to a duty that most leaders shirked as beneath him—helping to cart away the bodies of their dead. Zerk always busy, always moving, always thinking ahead.

  He was their commander, as well as the unelected governor of what passed for the small city—which wasn't really much more than the remnants of a military base from Before when he found it—that he had overtaken merely because it had been in his way, at first. But then, he had gotten drawn into the logistics of actually trying to run the place, his quick mind intrigued by the idea of finding solutions to the myriad problems that presented themselves to him on a daily basis.

  Zerk still went out with them on patrols and raids as he always had and likely always would, deliberately keeping his fingers in everyone's pies, keeping himself as involved as possible in every aspect of ruthlessly holding and maintaining his rule, defending it against threats from both within and without.

  But here was a situation he hadn't expected to encounter among his men.

  She was trembling, he noted. They were fine tremors that she was obviously trying to suppress, but he had meticulously trained himself to be watchful of others. Most were ridiculously easy to read, but not her.

  Not until now. Oh, once she'd brought herself to his attention by her brave actions and ability to reason within the heat of battle, he'd observed her carefully, but usually from afar or as they were both fighting. They hadn't really begun to come into contact with each other until he'd promoted her, up several ranks at once—despite how unpopular the move had been, a few days ago.

  But she wasn't just scared, he noted; she was terrified.

  As well she should be, considering that she'd earned a punishment from him for her lateness. But he had already surmised that it was more—much more—than that.

  When he stood before her, legs planted well apart, arms crossed over his impressive chest, he bent down so that his nose was next to her ear, as if he was her mate and he was going to nibble that very tender area as a prelude to taking her.

  But instead, what he did was inhale, as long and as deeply and as slowly as he could, allowing his eyes to drift closed for the briefest of moments before they snapped open again and he reared back, schooling his face to careful neutrality before he said the words he knew she least wanted to hear.

  But that couldn't have been a surprise to her, regardless.

  "You're…coming into heat." He said the words with at least as much incredulity as she would have. As he did so, though, his mind was full of her scent—worse than that, his dick and balls were, too, one having immediately gathered close, the other at painful attention, just like she still was in front of him.

  If she opened her mouth right now, she knew she'd sound like every other female, and she loathed the idea of becoming some blathering idiot who had no control over herself. And yet that was exactly what her body was doing to her at this very moment.

  She'd begun to see the first signs during the day he'd leveled her up so suddenly, and thus, she'd begun to be included in all of the meetings he had with his small cadre of sub-commanders that she'd never attended before. She'd almost immediately felt her breasts becoming tender and much more sensitive, swelling beneath the bindings she imposed on herself so that she would look as sexless as possible around her fellow soldiers, whom she knew would have absolutely no qualms about ripping her apart if they even began to suspect what she was refusing to believe about what her body was beginning to tell her about herself.

  And—because her body had remained relatively sexless except for a few telltale outward signs—she had managed to pass most of the time.

  She'd already determined that it was only when she was around him that the signs had first developed—she'd noticed the first tingling of a change, which she thoroughly ignored—when she'd been accepted into this—his—military force and he had given her her first uniform. That had only taken a matter of minutes, but it was enough, apparently, to start her down a road she didn't want to travel.

  She'd been okay for quite a while, being a plebe and not really having any kind of interaction with him, but it had only gotten noticeably worse lately, because the higher she rose, the more time she spent around him, even though she had carefully kept accepting dangerous assignments that put her out in the wasteland, just to avoid him. Having achieved the rank she had—having attained the rank she'd fought so hard for just a few days ago, had led to her not being able to avoid being in his presence—and, even though it had really only been hours, it was more than enough to stir her long dormant body.

  That was why she had been late this morning. She'd been scrubbing herself—especially down there—as rigorously as she could, hoping to rid herself of her own scent long enough to get through a—
hopefully—short meeting alone with him. But it seemed all of her attempts were in vain.

  And the longer she stood in front of him, the worse it was getting. She didn't know what it was about him in particular. She'd passed by innumerable men on her way to him, but they hadn't inspired the deep ache she was feeling at his nearness, the one that made her want to cross her legs against the juices she knew were already seeping into the rags that passed for her underwear.

  Now, though, he was bringing the internal battle she had only just begun to fight to the fore, and it appeared that her own body was siding firmly with an unusual enemy—him.

  "At ease. How long have you known?" he asked shrewdly.

  Her eyes immediately downcast, she swallowed hard but didn't say anything, knowing she was tempting fate—as his soldier, and, more startlingly, more alarmingly, as a female in his presence.

  "Answer me!" he snapped, although he hadn't raised his voice in the least.

  "N-not long, sir," she replied, sounding much more tentative than she intended—than she ever had before—since she was an obscenely young child on the streets of this very same small town.

  "Are you lying to me, little girl?" he growled threateningly, voice still low and surprisingly soft.

  Her head wanted to snap up at that to meet his eyes, but she refused to do so, realizing starkly that it was the first time he'd ever called her anything but her proper title and knowing that he'd probably chosen that particular phrase carefully, deliberately reducing her—in two seemingly innocuous word—to her lowest common denominators, to the only role she would now be fit for, as far as he and any other Alpha was concerned.