Untouched Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 4), V.T. Bonds [best books to read for success .txt] 📗

I pass her another jar.

Fracturing noises scrape through the room as she chucks it at the opposite wall.

One vase sits alone, occupying the furthest place on the shelf. It held her first child. The catalyst for so many emotions, she stares at it for a long moment before extending her palm in demand.

I lift it from the shelf and offer it to her, meeting her stormy eyes.

Her lips tighten, the expression of sternness stirring my tired loins with lust borne of respect.

She flings the jar upward, hitting the shelf with satisfying accuracy. Tiny shards cascade toward the floor, this breakage amplified by its finality. As the last pieces hit the floor and the resounding tinkles of glass on concrete fade, she throws her head back and screams.

When the walls begin to warp with her fury, she digs her nails into my hand in silent demand.

She sucks in a fresh lungful of air and roars.

The tops of the walls begin to crumble, the flexing of concrete ruining any structure the room holds. Large chunks of ceiling smash onto the floor.

She digs her nails deeper into my skin.

I join her, roaring out my hate and helping her destroy this room of misery.

We eviscerate every portion of the bleak space, releasing years of grief and torment.

Standing in the wasteland, she turns to me and wraps me in her arms, trapping my elbows to my side.

A scary yet pride-inducing realization settles over me as she presses her cheek to my sternum.

She didn’t need my strength or my help.

She wanted me here.

My purr rattles us both as the ruins fade and softness surrounds us.

She lifts my wrist and places my palm over her abdomen where our babe grows.

Too exhausted to do more than purr, we relax into sleep.

Together.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Anastasia

It doesn’t seem real, but it’s the most authentic situation I’ve ever faced.

Jumoke’s features hold zero worry, sleep holding his troubles at bay. His handsome eyebrows lay arched over closed eyes, my inability to see his ever-changing irises the only nuisance this moment brings.

I am exhausted but cannot fall back asleep.

For the first time in my life, the future doesn’t seem like something to dread. A lightness of my soul pervades my existence, the heaviness of my past less weighty than I ever thought possible.

I don’t have to choose between mourning my dead and moving on with my life.

Even in slumber, Jumoke’s heart coos and rains adoration on my lost loves.

The knowledge of his unwavering devotion brings assurance deeper than words ever could. Watching him caress and cuddle the tiny bundles fills my soul with awe and hope.

I want to see him fulfill such acts in real life.

I will.

Soon.

His child already grows in my womb, too tiny to sense except for the alteration of my scent.

It’s still so new and monumental I can’t grasp the reality, even though there’s undeniable proof.

He helped me demolish the darkest memory I held, yet anger plagues him. Barely leashed fury hovers within him, the savage need to destroy the ones responsible for my sorrow aching to be given permission to create a hell catered to their demise.

Vengeance isn’t the answer, yet I doubt my lifemate will agree with such a sentiment.

My stomach lets out a sudden rumble. The once peaceful male jerks awake, his fingers digging into my skin. His huge hand covers the expanse of my lower abdomen, giving him the ability to experience my hunger almost before I sense it.

Not a trace of sleep lingers in his face, his entire body snapping to full alertness within the span of a blink.

His mouth scrambles my brain as he darts forward and invades mine, the kiss over before I respond.

“Build a nest. I’ll get food,” he demands, a mixture of emotions whirling in his eyes.

Despite all we’ve been through, a bit of trepidation creeps into my mind.

His backside as he walks across the room steals my attention. When he looks over his shoulder at me, slick gathers along my folds as his raised eyebrow makes my heart flutter.

His deep voice and playful tone make me shudder.

“Nest, Omega, before I rut you on the hard floor again to teach you a lesson.”

The arousal coursing through my veins indicates his proposition may be loads of fun, but the smirk pulling at his lips makes me think of his most recent prank.

I do not wish to vomit today.

Yet I cannot resist the opportunity he's given me.

“I’ll make a nest, Alpha, and deny you entrance should you make empty promises.”

The wicked gleam in his eyes is the exact response I expect, yet my heart rate doubles.

Half his lip pulls up further, revealing his sharp white teeth.

“Challenge accepted, you greedy little thing. Make a nest so I can wreck you on the floor after we eat.”

He turns away with a satisfied, devilish smirk on his face. Another step brings him within range of the food storage, and when he reaches out to grab a meal, his hips twist and reveal how eager he is to follow through with his threat.

His absolute belief in my ability to build a proper nest not only pummels me from his side of the bond, but also shows in his languid movements and unrelenting demand.

My initial movement causes pain to spear through my body. A gasp catches in my throat.

Thick masculine fingers grasp my chin before I manage to exhale through the pain.

“Where are you hurt?” His growly voice sounds angry, but the worry emanating from him softens the blow.

I hold still as I dissect the pain. My bruised shoulder hurts down to the marrow of my bones, the stiffness throbbing inward and making my ribs and lungs hurt. His bite marks no longer ache, but the tugging of freshly knit skin does not feel comfortable. Everything below my ribs feels as though I ran a million miles. Sore, swollen, and heavy, my lower back, abdomen, hips, and intimates throbs with overuse. My leg muscles cramp as the tendons and joints creak and complain.

I breathe