Carnage Island (Reject Island)(62)

My skin still tingles now with the memory of the pleasure chasing away the pain.

A logical part of me is aware that I should be pissed at him for pulling a knife on me, but my wolf is too intrigued to allow that logical part to gain purpose.

Not once did I feel threatened beneath him. The tension in his body told me he was very much in control.

And the hardness pressed up against my core told me he was also very aroused by the position.

The whole display of power somehow kept me grounded. It made me feel safe despite the lethal blade against my skin.

He didn’t use silver on me, just steel.

Maybe I would have felt more fear had it been the latter.

Regardless, I’m fascinated by the way my body responded to his. There was no fear, only mild interest.

And a hell of a lot of anger over the punishment they gave me for “lying.”

However, I understand the reason behind their reaction—they value honesty. And saying I was fine qualified as a lie because emotionally, I’m not fine. I’m scared that I won’t go into heat the way they need me to.

They’ve introduced me to a world I never knew existed.

It would be just my luck for my Nantahala heritage to prevent me from truly embracing this new existence.

Volt brings a fork to my lips, telling me to “Open.”

I comply, allowing him to feed me.

I’m not sure if he’s apologizing for his knife or demonstrating the benefits of healing pain with pleasure. Likely the latter.

There’s a heat to his gaze that’s been there since I shifted back into human form. It intensified when he placed his weapon at my throat. And it’s simmering now, like he can’t wait for whatever he has planned for dessert.

Tieran is thoughtful and quiet beside him, his focus on our meal. He hasn’t spoken much since agreeing with Volt that we should eat.

We’re all sitting on the bed, but there are only two plates.

Tieran isn’t eating.

Neither is Volt since he’s too busy feeding me. Although, he sneaks in a few bites here and there.

These males confuse me. They were angry before, doing their best to punish me for being dishonest. But the moment I explained my view, Tieran softened with understanding.

It seems we both have a lot to learn about each other.

Which isn’t surprising considering the short time we’ve spent together. However, my wolf feels as though she’s known them for years.

Tieran gently strokes my ankle, drawing my attention to him as Volt brings another piece of fruit to my mouth. The whole plate is littered with grapes, berries, and cheese. There’s a smattering of some sort of seafood dip beside it that Volt uses to decorate crackers before bringing them to my lips.

It’s delicious.

But my stomach churns with the residual effects of Volt’s touch, the way his body pinned me to the bed while Tieran moved my chin.

Anger hums in my veins, emboldened by need.

It’s an intoxicating combination of sensation, one that leaves me a little breathless as Volt gives me a piece of cheese.

They showed me a dominant side of them tonight that left me craving more.

I want their brand of punishment.

I want to play with Volt’s knife.

It makes me question my sanity. These are the types of things I should fight, not accept. But knowing their reasoning for being upset somehow dampens my ability to feel fury.

Because deep down, I know they’ll never hurt me.

They’ll be harsh when they need to be, but never to the point of true damage. Just a teasing ache that they’ll quickly soothe with their touch.

I swallow again, blindly accepting whatever Volt puts in my mouth.

I trust him.

That’s the key lesson I learned today—I don’t fear him at all.

And I want them to trust me, which means being open and discussing my feelings. I’m not sure I can always do that. But for them, I’ll try.

“You need an heir,” I prompt, looking at Tieran. “And if I can’t go into a proper Omega heat, then I can’t provide that for you.”

There. I said it. The real issue threatening my future—the potential for me to be an incompatible host for his future child.

He swallows and nods. “Yes.” He takes a cracker this time, covers it in more of that seafood spread and brings it to my mouth before Volt can feed me another berry.

Volt doesn’t seem to mind. He just pops the strawberry into his own mouth and chews, the cords along his muscular neck flexing with him. He has a few tattoos decorating his throat and the pattern bleeds into his chest. However, his torso is mostly bare below his pecs, leaving the skin along his abdomen untouched. I idly wonder if he intends to fill that space with more designs some day.

“Alphas can only procreate with an Omega while she’s in heat. It’s why Alphas fall into the rut—they feel an intense desire to spread their seed and sate the Omega’s lust. Only the strongest of our kind can fight the impulse,” Tieran says, repeating some of what I’ve already learned from Caius.

“However,” he continues, “that pull dissipates when an Omega is mated. It’s a subtle change in scent that allows us to ignore the desire. Unless the Alphas are part of her clan, in which case, they’re slaves to the rut.”

“So we can’t properly mate if I’m unable to experience a full estrus,” I say, reiterating what I already know.