“That’s an argument that’ll have to wait,” he stated. “You aren’t going.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to stay here and press a damn button.”
Oberon pointed to his bare feet. “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”
“I don’t need them,” Fenrir replied stubbornly. “Impervious to the cold, remember?”
“That may be, but you’re not impervious to my knot, and if you want it again in the near future, you’ll learn to behave and—”
“Do as I’m told?” he grumbled.
O wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him forward, crashing their mouths together in a searing kiss. He might have lost himself to it if not for the omega’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Hissing, he reared back, but he didn’t scold him.
“Gods, you’re so fucking hot.” Oberon let out a low whistle and then stepped back. “When you hit one hundred and twenty, push the button. Don’t do it any sooner than that, precious. Or,” he reconsidered, “do.”
Fenrir frowned.
“This could be your only chance to kill me.” Oberon winked and spun on his heels, darting back down the makeshift path toward the masked men he really wanted to tear apart. There was a very strong chance he’d just signed his own death warrant, but he was oddly at peace with that.
So long as his omega got away, that was all that mattered.
Was this…selflessness?
Probably not.
Oberon deviated from the path, but stuck close enough to it that he’d be able to catch if one of the Wardrobe got too close. The plan was to keep them away from Fenrir as long as possible, and the best way to do that was by taking them out.
Since they didn’t know this forest had been booby-trapped, the soldiers had spread out as soon as they’d entered. They must have thought that made them safer, since it would allow them to cover more ground and ideally locate their targets, but they were wrong.
The first to find out did so by stepping too close to the tree O was hidden behind. In one swift move, his mask was removed and tossed aside, his body flooded with dominant alpha pheromones that caused his lungs to seize and his throat to close up. He was left gasping for air and would suffocate before Fenrir was done counting.
Oberon didn’t even bother waiting around to be sure of that, stealthily moving on, slipping between the brush and ducking behind a thick bush the second he heard footsteps.
If he fired the blaster, he’d draw too much attention, so he tucked the weapon in his waistband and then peered through the gaps between branches. There were two of them together, the soldiers sticking close to each other’s sides.
Would have been more effective if they’d been standing back to back, but O wasn’t responsible for teaching them important life lessons.
His hand shot out from around the bush just as they passed, latching onto a soldier’s ankle. Holding him in place, he twisted, kicking the man across the lower back, causing him to stumble into his buddy.
One of their guns went off, the sound deafening in the otherwise silence, and Oberon cursed.
Working quickly, he unleashed his pheromones, stomping down on the neck of one of the men while they werediscombobulated. He retrieved his blaster and shot the other at point-blank range, since that cat was already out of the bag.
Forty seconds to go.
He could stay alive that long.
Assuming Fenrir wasn’t going to push the button too early.
Or too late.
Or try to time it in such a way meant to kill Oberon with them.
Fuck.
“Being mated is a trip.” He dropped his spent blaster and picked up one of the fallen soldier’s. Maybe there was merit in Levi’s parting words last week.
If Oberon wasn’t a bitch for freezing his ass out here in the cold, risking his neck to protect Fenrir, a guy he hardly knew, then what was he? Trusting the man not to betray him was simply icing on the cake.