Which makes me wonder how compatible I really am with these Alphas.
“I’m not an Omega,” I continue, voicing my thoughts out loud. “My pack considered me an Alpha candidate because of my trials.”
“Trials?” he repeats.
“They’re tests designed to determine the most eligible Nantahala females for mating,” I explain. “Like agility and strength exercises, as well as etiquette and the ability to teach. They groom us for motherhood, but also test our traits to find the ones they want to replicate via procreation.” It all sounds very clinical, and it is to an extent. “The purpose is to guarantee the best of the lines are continued.”
He grunts. “And I’m guessing beauty plays a part in it?”
“It does because they want the most alluring females for the mating process.”
“To appease the males,” he drawls.
I don’t comment because there’s not much I can say other than shrug. Attractiveness has always been key among my former pack. They praise it and embrace it. Part of what made me one of the most eligible females was my physical appeal. The Alphas liked that I was petite and curvy.
Canton especially so.
He praised my appearance frequently during the mating tests.
“Carnage Wolves favor power and prosperity over all else. We mate based on strength compatibility, which is why Tieran’s wolf likes your animal—you challenged him.” He grins. “It’s why we all like you.”
“I challenged him when I ran.” I vaguely remember that, my wolf having been in charge of the notion to flee. “My animal wanted to be chased.”
“That’s the Carnage Omega in you,” he says. “It’s overriding your Nantahala instincts, taking over your psyche and helping you become the wolf you were always meant to be.”
“Unless who I’m meant to be is a mixture of the two,” I say, frowning. “What if I can’t go into heat like an Omega?”
He considers me, a deep crease marring his brow. “You are an Omega, Clove. I can smell it on your skin, taste it on my tongue. You’ll go into heat like one. Today was just an appetizer to the meal to come.” He kisses me again, silencing whatever I would have said back to him.
But my mind is reeling.
While I want to believe him, I’m not sure I trust my own genetics to play out the way he says they will.
I’m a mixed breed.
And these Alphas want a proper Omega for their circle. They value them as jewels. However, how can I shine when I’m tainted with my Nantahala heritage?
“Do you want your hands-on demonstration now, angel?” he asks softly, his groin pressing into mine. “Or would you prefer to indulge in that intimate discussion after dinner?”
16
CAIUS
I can sense her hesitation. Her concern is a sour taste in the air, one that makes me want to distract her with my cock, to prove to her that she’s a Carnage Omega.
I understand she has Nantahala genetics in her as well, but the only way she could have been created is if an Alpha knotted her mother.
Which means her mother either also had Carnage Wolf ancestry or was a very unique breed of wolf.
Regardless, the Carnage part of her is going to dominate the Nantahala side. The process started when she first shifted.
She’s becoming one with her wolf.
And when that merger completes itself, she’ll very likely go into a full estrus cycle.
Which is when we’ll claim her.
Tieran already spoke to his father about it, asking if he knew of any other half-breeds that turned Omega in the past. There was only one case Alpha Umber knew about, and that female did become a full Omega once taken by her Alpha clan.
He told Tieran this is his final test—to claim the Omega. Once our clan is done, we’ll gain the required favor of the pack and Tieran will be able to return as the incoming Black Mountain Alpha.
It’s almost a circumstance of fate that we couldn’t complete the mating process with Clove. Because it means we have to protect her on an island full of eligible Alpha clans now. And not only that, we need to ensure they respect our claim without the official links in place.
It’ll be a trial of honor, one we desperately need to pass for our dreams of vengeance to come to fruition.
I’m not concerned.
Neither are Tieran or Volt.
But our little Omega needs to understand that she’s ours, that we’re going to claim her even if her mixed heritage proves to be an issue.
Which I strongly suspect it won’t.
“Volt’s in the kitchen making something spicy,” I say when she doesn’t respond to my question about dinner. “He started cooking when we sensed you waking up, and Tieran is off working on his plan for damage control. So I’m in charge of taking care of you. Now, do you want to play with my knot? Or would you prefer to eat first?”