To Seduce an Omega (2 page)

She wanted nothing to do with one of Zebadiah’s brought-in bullies. The quicker this strange attraction she felt toward Titus faded the better. Her hut with her makeshift dresser—more rough pieces of wood propped on stones and her pallet of moss—shouted poverty and defeat. She leaned against one of the hut’s uprights and flexed her leg, glad to take her weight off her knee. Much as she wanted Mr. Fix-It’s hand on her breasts and his lips against hers, she hated the unexpected jolt of mating heat. Her throat constricted as her libido went wild.

His presence overwhelmed her, and his sheer size made her hut seem crowded. The look on his face, as though he struggled not to gag at a bad smell, hurt more than she’d expected. Though he seemed unconcerned about Tansy’s blood dripping on his expensive clothes, Viola knew the shabbiness of her home disgusted him.

He had a good heart to tangle with a murder thorn and rescue Tansy despite his allegiance to the alpha. Just knowing he planned to join Zebadiah’s squad of mercenaries sucker punched Viola. Titus was muscle for hire, a wolf paid by Zebadiah to grind the pack into submission. She knew about the alpha’s bullyboys firsthand.

After a quick assessment of Tansy’s injuries, Viola grabbed a knife and a packet of herbs from her dresser. “What happened to her?”

Titus’s expression softened as he stared at the injured woman. “I don’t have a clue. I heard a whimper from a thicket of murder thorns, and the poor woman was lying unconscious in the center. Elves’ blood, you’ve got your gold. Get a move on. Can’t you see she’s lost so much blood she’s going into shock?”

The arrow topped Viola’s priorities. Once she’d pulled a threadbare apron over her head, she poured alcohol over Tansy’s wound. If the archer had barbed the head, pulling the arrow out would tear the flesh from Tansy’s thigh. Given that this looked like a deliberate shooting, Viola prayed the bowman hadn’t poisoned the arrowhead.

Titus laid Tansy on the moss and sweet-herb pallet, his touch so gentle Viola wondered how it would feel if he laid her down with such care. Just once, she wanted someone to be gentle with her. That or teach her about orgasms and sex.
I should be concentrating on Tansy, not drooling over Titus’s ass.

She swallowed hard and settled on the floor beside her patient, her bad leg extended in front of her. Getting up again would be hell, but Viola would manage somehow. She always did, but on bad days her knee ballooned to twice its normal size. Her gaze strayed back to Titus’s ass. She pictured herself running her hands over it or stroking it or rubbing up against him and breathing in his musky vanilla essence.

Her nipples ached, and she felt as though flames licked at her cunt—all that for one of Zebadiah’s personal army. Despite his gentle treatment of Tansy, Viola couldn’t trust Titus an inch. This stupid urge to wrap her body around his and run her fingers through his short-cropped hair would fade soon. It had to. Nothing good could come of her having a fling with a stranger, no matter how much he made her heart race.

Tansy moaned when Viola cut the remnants of her skirt and probed her wound.

Titus’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. “Do you enjoy hurting the helpless?”

Her? Hurt the helpless. Viola would have laughed if he didn’t make her so fluttery and hot. She stood on quicksand, and the only way to stay safe was to cling to Titus.
Yeah, like he’d ever offer his hand.

Her chin rose. “I’m a healer. Only an idiot would think I meant to hurt Tansy. I needed to know if the arrow had struck bone. Fortunately, the head’s embedded in her thigh muscle, but we still need to push it through rather than just yank it out. Once I’ve poulticed the entry and exit wounds, I’ll clean up her scratches.”

“Then get a move on.” Titus’s fingernails turned into claws, and he bared his fangs. At her. She should be scared or even screaming. Instead, she almost came when she pictured those fangs sinking into her flesh as she orgasmed around his cock.
No. Not feeling anything for him…really. Besides, who the hell does he think he is? Judging me as though he’s the Rock Prowler alpha.

Viola did her best with limited materials. The alpha refused to let her leave Rock Prowlers’ territory to train further even though that left the pack without a qualified healer. She’d lost her books in the fire that had destroyed her home, and she hated when she didn’t know enough to help.

If Elspeth hadn’t taken Viola in when her mother vanished and her father banished her from her home, she wouldn’t have survived. Twenty-two years later, survival was still a struggle.

Healing was all she had left. She understood difficult childbirths and kept a stock of herbal remedies for the rare occasions a wolf couldn’t heal himself by shifting. Sadly, nothing would fix her knee. Without her inner wolves, Viola would never be whole again.

She stole a quick glance at Titus, and her heart rate sped up again. His confidence and strength along with the way he took charge of a bad situation made her envy his mate—assuming he had one.

The bonded couples in town never left each other’s sides unless they had to, which made her wonder what Tansy had been doing out here alone. Jealousy hit Viola like a fiery arrow. The thought of Titus bonding with another woman turned her stomach sour. Not that she’d ever have children or a mate, but a she-wolf could dream.

Chapter Two

Viola hated the way her heart raced for one of Zebadiah’s paid bullies. Hell, unless Titus lied about being engaged to Fleur, the alpha had personally extended him an invitation. No matter how perfect Titus’s ass or how much his raspy voice made her womb clench, he was a million times worse than the thugs Zebadiah usually imported.

She hated that her body craved a mating with this newcomer. A few orgasms should wipe a monster like him from her brain—not that she wanted to forget his muscular arms, broad chest, or the way he cared about Tansy.

Despite the shocking way Fleur treated the pack, she didn’t want him anywhere near her half sisters. He’d either hurt Iris or team up with Fleur to make Viola’s life hell. Eking out an existence in the forest didn’t leave her time to be miserable, but if the oldest of her half sisters unleashed her famed sadistic streak, Viola’s life could only get worse.

Not for the first time, she wished she could flash away from her hopeless situation. Most Lykae could despite Zebadiah’s announcement that King Caleb, the hereditary king of all the Lykae packs, forbade it. Viola hadn’t given a damn. She’d tried to zip in and out of the ether, but to no avail.

Rugged and muscular, Titus looked like he was up for any fight—even one with a nonentity like her. He narrowed his eyes and snarled. “I’ll light a fire. The woman’s cold.”

“Her name’s Tansy,” Viola snapped.

She glanced at her meager pile of firewood. Usually, she gathered a few sticks a day throughout the summer, then shivered each day of the winter. Collecting wood took a harsh toll on her knee, so she saved her fires for the frostiest nights and the iciest days.

Rock Prowler territory lay so far south it abutted the impassable mountains. Winter came as a short, sharp shock that didn’t last long, but what it lacked in length it made up for in frost and ice. If a bad night hit, she wouldn’t survive.

One look at Tansy’s pale face, and she realized her patient needed heat more than Viola needed to save her limited supply of fuel. “Okay, but first I need you to hold Tansy while I remove the arrow.”

His haughty stare and stiff posture told Viola how little he rated her healing skills.
Thanks, Pops, for seeing to my education. I’m not the most knowledgeable healer out there, but I’m the best the Rock Prowlers have
. Besides, whatever Titus thought, every member of the pack—especially someone as kindhearted as Tansy—mattered to Viola.

Viola wished she’d developed a generous bosom and the broad, childbearing hips that delighted Lykae males. Around Titus, she hated being slender and slight with boyish hips and tits too small to drive any wolf wild. Her hair hung past her shoulders in a dozen different shades of brown. Sometimes, when the sun caught it, it glowed with chestnut highlights, and the blue of her eyes ran so deep it rivaled the night sky. At least that was what Elspeth had told her. Despite her surrogate mother’s compliments, she always wore her skirts long to hide her twisted knee.

Titus dismissed her as ignorant and self-centered, but he couldn’t be more wrong. She was a survivor. She’d had to be.

Another killer glance in her direction and then he nodded. “You hold her. I’ll see to the arrow.”

He didn’t give Viola chance to argue, just pulled a knife from his belt. Once he’d sliced the fletching from the shaft, Viola passed him a flat stone and hammer. He placed the stone against the raw edge of the broken shaft but disdained the hammer and slammed his fist hard into the stone. The arrowhead shot out the back of Tansy’s leg, tearing skin and setting her blood flowing again. Tansy’s eyes flew open. Her scream echoed out of Viola’s hut, scaring small animals and putting birds to flight. Viola rolled Tansy on to her side and pressed an herbal poultice to the entry wound while Titus pulled the rest of the arrow though Tansy’s leg.

Tansy screamed again. Her primal form—the violent predator that adult Lykae kept inside—flashed over her body. Her claws came out, and she slashed four parallel scratches in Viola’s arm.

Although Viola winced and stifled a yell, she kept her firm hold on Tansy’s shoulders. Ignoring the pain, Viola pressed her knees into her patient’s back and forced her to stay still while she crooned soft words and reassurance.

When Tansy settled, tears ran down Viola’s cheeks. Rather than complain, she gritted her teeth and wiped her arm with a clean rag. Finally, she held a second herbal poultice to the exit wounds and bandaged both pads in place. Again she turned her gaze on Titus. “If you didn’t hurt her, who did? And where on earth is Daniel, her mate?”

Titus’s eyes narrowed, and his voice whipped over her like the North wind. “No idea. You were an idiot not to turn primal when you held her. Your stupidity cost you those scratches, so don’t even think about upping your bill. Clean her wounds while I build the fire.”

Despite his harsh words, he exuded alpha pheromones that made her womb clench. Liquid heat flooded her cunt. Arrogant and cruel, he was the worst sort of bully, but she still wanted him in her bed.
Damn it, I’ve never craved a man so badly.

She wanted to nestle in his arms and let him kiss her until the world stopped turning. His hand on her breasts would be good too, as long as he didn’t linger too long and ignore her damp pussy.

Shoulders stiff, fists curled, Titus bared his fangs. “When I marry the alpha’s daughter, Zebadiah will stand aside in my favor. Believe me, your days as pack healer are numbered. Now, hedgewitch, where’s your woodpile?”

Apparently Zebadiah had traded Fleur off to Titus. The alpha often talked of standing down, but Viola didn’t believe it for an instant. If he bound Titus to him by marriage, Zebadiah could use Titus’s muscle to continue his harsh rule over the Rock Prowler pack. She hated the alpha for the way, two years back, his so-called bodyguards ruined her life. They’d killed Elspeth, and they’d meant to kill Viola too—or so she supposed.

Knowing the man she’d once called father wanted her dead didn’t hurt as much as losing her surrogate mother. The way Zebadiah ran the pack was a scandal King Caleb should have long since addressed. Clearly squashing the spirit out the packs was a power game to men like them—and that included Titus. Sadly, she’d wanted him to be her hero, not another villain.

Once she’d adored Zebadiah; then her perfect family fell apart. Her mother vanished, but rather than mourn her, Zebadiah chased every she-wolf in Rock Prowler territory. Although he’d told the pack his second wife was his true-mate, Viola had overheard wolves gossip as they visited Elspeth’s mill. Apparently, Zebadiah had bragged that alphas had a duty to share their genes with the pack and made no effort to rein in his libido.

With her mother out of the picture, it hadn’t taken him long to turn against Viola, but she’d been too young to understand. When Zebadiah rejected her six-year-old self, her world had turned inside out. As she approached puberty, she’d kept her head down for Elspeth’s sake.
Yeah, but that didn’t work out well. His soldiers still beat me almost to death and left me crippled.

Zebadiah’s cruel punishments and the way women disappeared from any family who opposed him sapped the heart out of the Rock Prowler pack. Now, this Titus arrived to take over. The only thing worse than having Zebadiah as alpha was having the hots for his successor.

No Lykae would want a broken mate like Viola, even if she’d been willing. Only, as she stared at Titus, a small part of her whispered,
Mine
. Pride made her stand taller, but she’d never let one of Zebadiah’s thugs into her bed.

She turned away, crushed by the scorn in Titus’s eyes. Why he cared so much about Tansy puzzled Viola. Men like him—the ones without a conscience and eyes colder than the Tundra Tough’s territory—didn’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. They came with fists made for pounding and insults that cut deeper than any knife. Worse, they lived to strike terror into the Rock Prowlers’ hearts.

Most of all, she hated that he called her a hedgewitch, especially since the description rang true. Her lack of knowledge frustrated her, but as a solitary practitioner, she did the best she could. Not that Titus would understand.

He condemned her—just like the rest of the Rock Prowler pack. Head high, she pointed at the pile of kindling. “That’s all the wood I have.”

He growled and flashed his fangs in her direction. “Bloody useless woman. Don’t you want your patients to recover?”

There he went, judging her again. His eyes might shimmer with startling gold flecks, but his heart must be carved from solid granite. Of course she wanted the best for her patients, but thanks to Zebadiah’s cutthroat army, she had restrictions. The alpha would never make the good-parenting centerfold, not when he treated her the way he did.

Worse, Titus planned to marry her half sister. Viola’s future spiraled downhill, and she didn’t know how she’d cope if he brought in a new healer. He glanced toward the door and raised an eyebrow at the small bow and a quiver of arrows alongside a homemade flint ax. With a shrug, he hefted the ax over his shoulder, but since Viola had made it to suit her smaller frame, it looked ridiculous. Lip curled, he let it dangle from his huge hand.