Alpha Omega

When worlds collide

Kiya P.O.V

I never claimed Alex was smart. In fact, right now, I'm seriously considering denouncing him as a friend before his stupidity wears off on me. 

However, we've been together since way past the expiry date for friendship, so looks like I'm stuck with him. Alex has this habit of picking fights with people much bigger than himself. Lucky for him, he's always got at last one of us around to back him up and make sure he leaves with that pretty face of his intact. Lucky or stupid? I really don't think there's much of a difference, but this time he's practically begging for a crooked nose. 

I jump out of Dominic's arms. He growls at me, but I quickly spin around, placing one hand on each of their chests. 

"Hurt him you hurt me," I say, shoving as much of my sincerity into my words as possible. 

Ty is snarling. He levels his glare on me, "What?" The word is more of a growl than a word. 

I look over my shoulder at my friends,giving Alec the stink eye, "He's my brother. Not by blood but... if you hurt any one of them, all bets are off. I couldn't forgive you for attacking them if they say something stupid in some fucked up attempt at defending my honor." 

Dom is staring straight at me, gaze never wavering. Ty's eyes are roaming from me to the boys behind me. I turn to them and, sure enough, the three of them are standing, watching me, ready to jump to my defense. My heart swells with love for them at the same time it sinks. 

Suirvival 101: When in close quarters with the two of the most dominant wolves in the hemisphere, don't try to be a damn hero or make yourself seem intimidating. I mentally groan, stupid-ass-idiots.

I lock eyes with Dom, begging him with my eyes.  He nods almost imperceptibly. I don't think it means he likes them, but at least he won't rip their throats out, yet. 

I take my hand away and place both palms against Ty. When he's still glaring at the boys behind me, I almost panic. I don't know what to do. I've never really seen a mated pair before. The last Omega's to be mated were my parents, all the rest married for love or just got together and had kids. Most Omega's don't mate because we rarely get to leave the basement to find our mates or we get rejected. However, I do remember one time seeing a mated pair in the courtyard when I was running laundry and one of the tunnels was flooded. They were a young pair to be mated, probably only new to shifting, and the female was pissed off and fighting for control. Her mate was trying to talk her down and he wrapped his arms around his waist. Wolves can't survive without touch. Even amoung Omega's it's a way of assuring ourselves that we aren't alone, that we are accepted, that, if we mouth off at alpha twins, we'll have someone to stand with us. Even in a room full of people, a wolf needs touch to feel connected. I suppose the touch of a mate would probably be like that, if not more potent. 

Unfortunately, my hands against his chest don't seem to be working. I'm hesitant to keep going like I saw the wolf do with his mate. I mean, the few times we've been intimate haven't exactly been planned acts of passionate devotion or anything, more like animalistic lust and then an outlet for the twins' anger and assurance that I didn't get myself killed. 

But, it's that or let him chew out my best friends, literally. Time to take one for the team I guess. Slowly, my hands begin their ascent up his chest. I'm staring up at his face, daring him to make eye contact. Under my hands, his chest is so deliciously solid and I can feel his heart beating under my palms, feel his breathing as he tries to control his anger, feel the rumble of his growling from his chest. 

I hear my own low growl of approval. At least on a skin-deep level, both my wolf and I love the feel of how strong our mate is, how delicious his muscled pecks feel under my hands. When he hears me, his head jerks down. I link my hands behind his neck, absentmindedly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His hair is cut shorter than Doms so that it's shortish on the sides and a long, black, wavy mess on the top.