The Alpha's Omega

CHAPTER 15: MORNING OF RECKONING

The first light of dawn began to creep into the room, filtering through the heavy drapes that clung to the windows like shadows. The golden rays touched upon the remnants of the night's passionate storm—sheets twisted in disarray, pillows strewn carelessly across the bed, and the faint lingering scent of sweat and sex that permeated the air. Vegas and Pete lay tangled together in the center of the bed, their bodies still flush from the heat they had shared.

Vegas had woken first, his mind already turning over the events of the previous days. The Rebel alphas had made their move, their betrayal striking at the heart of everything he had built. His anger was a slow, simmering thing, like embers in the dark, waiting for the right moment to ignite. But alongside that fury was something else—an unrelenting, protective need to keep Pete safe, to shield him from the storm that was brewing.

He watched Pete as he slept, his face softened in the morning light. Even in sleep, there was a certain vulnerability to him, a contrast to the fierce loyalty and strength he showed when awake. Vegas's fingers traced the line of Pete's jaw, his touch feather-light, as if he were afraid to disturb the peace that had settled over them. But Vegas knew this peace was fleeting; the world outside was waiting, and with it, the need for action.

Pete stirred under his touch, his body instinctively curling closer to Vegas's. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, there was only the soft, warm glow of morning and the comforting presence of Vegas beside him. But then reality seeped back in, and Pete's gaze sharpened as he remembered the threats looming over them.

"Morning," Pete murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, but there was an edge to it, a tension that hadn't been there the day before.

"Morning," Vegas replied, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a mixture of tenderness and the weight of unspoken plans. He tightened his grip around Pete's waist, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed together, skin to skin, the warmth of their shared bed cocooning them from the world outside. "We need to talk about what's next."

Pete nodded, his mind already racing ahead to the challenges they faced. But before he could voice his thoughts, he felt the unmistakable shift of Vegas's body against his, the way his muscles tensed and moved with a purpose that sent a thrill through Pete's spine. "What are you thinking?" Pete asked, though his voice was breathless, knowing full well what was about to happen.

Vegas's answer was nonverbal. His hand slid down Pete's back, fingers brushing over the sensitive curve of his lower spine, eliciting a shiver from Pete. Vegas leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive skin of Pete's neck, where he began to place slow, deliberate kisses that were both a promise and a demand. "We'll discuss our plans," Vegas murmured against Pete's skin, his voice thick with desire, "but not before I remind you who you belong to."

Pete's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping him as Vegas's hand gripped his hip, fingers digging in with a possessive force. "Vegas," Pete managed, his voice a mix of want and exasperation. "We really should focus—"

"We will," Vegas cut him off, his voice a growl, dark and commanding. "But first, I need you." His words were punctuated by the way his body shifted, pushing Pete onto his stomach, his hands deftly parting Pete's legs as he positioned himself between them.

Pete's mind raced, caught between the need to strategize and the overwhelming desire that surged through him in response to Vegas's touch. He could feel the heat of Vegas's body against his, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against him. Pete's hands fisted in the sheets, his heart pounding in his chest as he gave in to the moment, allowing himself to be taken over by the force of Vegas's need.

"Tell me what you want," Vegas demanded, his voice thick with command, as he leaned down to press his lips against the curve of Pete's ear. "I want to hear you say it."