Untouched Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 4) by V.T. Bonds (books you have to read .TXT) 📕

“Shya.”

The surprisingly strong yet gentle voice comes from the corner of the room. Dirk pivots so Shya may see Anastasia, but tightens his hold on the leaning Omega.

“You have helped me. Thank you, sweet soul. Listen to your lifemate. Distance your body from mine. I am not safe.”

Dirk’s stillness sharpens my senses, and when I turn my attention to the invisible bonds between them, I stand as stationary as Dirk.

Shya’s eyes snap from pink to grey, the agitation in her emotions flatlining.

The pain-riddled, miserable Omega forcing herself to stand as regal as a queen soothes Shya with such gentle love a lump forms in my throat.

A lump forms in my throat.

What the fucking hell.

Her tender, motherly comfort makes me want to weep at its pure beauty.

Locking the emotions into a dense ball, I swallow it down and force myself to analyze the situation.

She’s dangerous, yes, but her current actions aren’t feigned. Her calm assurance pulls Shya from her angst, which settles her into a malleable bundle of Omega. Dirk scoops his lifemate into his arms. He turns wide blue eyes to Anastasia, perusing her face for a moment before the startled look fades from his expression.

“Thank you, Anastasia.”

“My pleasure. She’s precious, Dirk. I’m glad she found such a fierce protector.”

Dirk opens his mouth to say something, the emotions rolling from him a jumbled mess, but he only nods and moves down the hall.

Turning back to Anastasia, I understand his decision. Her usual stern expression has returned, the aura of dark misery hidden behind a look of disapproval. “I am prepared to speak with everyone,” she claims, despite the shaking of her body.

I can’t stop the scoff any more than I can help her stand.

“How about you take another moment? Either sit back on the floor or settle in this chair,” I say, snatching up the empty seat, walking across the room, and placing it a few feet from her. Scooting it with my foot, it stops sliding just before it hits her knees.

Glancing from the chair to me, she says nothing. After a moment, she reaches out with her uninjured arm and turns the seat, lowering herself with an unnatural amount of grace.

The wave of pain wafting from her makes me grit my teeth, causing my head to throb.

Fucking Jumoke. I clobbered my head on the floor when he tackled me. My entire chest pounds from being squished between him and the hard surface, plus my nose hurts like hell.

On that note, I should clean up before heading to the cockpit.

When she shifts to sit further back in the chair, a pathetic noise slips from her lips. My feet lurch forward, my instincts driving me to help her, while another odd sensation spears through me.

As though scrambled by an outside source, my heart goes haywire, things turning upside down and confusing the hell out of me.

Halting in place, I search for the reason, the almost painful tugging snapping my attention to the unseen.

Damn it, she picks now to fuck with me?

As quickly as it began, the sensation fades, leaving a vague disgust at my actions. Stepping back to where I was before almost giving in to my instincts, I blink a few times, trying to find my bearings.

Eyes with weary creases at the edges stare up at me as she watches me with an unreadable look. I get the impression she guards important knowledge, yet I also know her defenses won’t budge.

A warm drop of liquid lands on my arm, blood dripping off my chin. I weigh my options before I speak.

“Don’t move until I come back.”

Not bothering to wait for her response, I stalk from the room, working the pain from my joints with each step. The throbbing in my chest lessens as I make my way down the hallway, but the pain in my head and nose increase.

The weird, upended feeling in my heart still lingers, making me sharpen my attention on my surroundings, my hackles riding high.

Opening my door as softly as I can despite my agitation, knowing several females on board wouldn’t react well to loud, sudden noises, I cross my dark room to the hygiene bay. Turning on the light, I look in the mirror and survey the damage.

Cracking my nose back into place, I let the flood of crimson gush into the sink. Breathing through the agony pulsing through my head, I wait for the bleeding to stop. It doesn’t take but a moment, so I turn on the water and wash my face.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Flinging water across the room, I spin and check the dark corners.

No one.

The feeling of being watched lingers, even as my eyes prove I’m the only one here. With quiet steps I move along the wall until I’ve touched every corner in the room. My face and hands drip, the water no longer warm. Confirming there aren’t any hidden people or electronics, I return to the sink and finish washing.

It’s her, messing with our lifemating bond again.

Drying my face, I steady my breaths and firm my resolve.

One problem at a time.

Compartmentalize. This experience needs to be filed away so I can focus on more pressing matters. It goes in the box of weird happenings.

Prioritize. Our position has been protected against spying. Between putting the Sky-Flyer in stealth mode and setting out the blockers, no electronic communication can reach here.

Whatever just happened wasn’t a threat. The Omega in the other room needs to be dealt with first.

Checking my clothes for any stains, I decide to change even though there aren’t any. Jumoke’s scent clings to me, which means my aggression probably lingers too.

Dressed in clean clothes, I head back to Jumoke’s den, hoping the hothead has gotten his shit together.

Anastasia sits where I left her. Color has returned to her face, the white pallor of shock faded. She still holds her arm to her, but not as stiff as before.

She meets my gaze.

“Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll follow you.”

It hurts