Feral Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 1)

We’ve been walking for miles when Valek staggers into a nearby tree. I stop beside him, my brow furrowed as I examine the gash on his temple. Blood mats his light hair, trickling in steady rivulets down his high cheekbone.

The cut is deep, a vicious gash that will likely need stitches. But the bigger concern is the knot already swelling on Valek’s skull, a sickly purple marring his pale skin.

That little omega of ours packs quite the punch.

I shake my head, fighting the urge to smile at the thought of Ivy taking this ruthless killer down with nothing but her wits and a well-aimed rock. She’s proving to be full of surprises, that one.

Valek jerks his head back, fixing me with a scathing glare. ‘Enough fussing, bird boy. We need to keep moving.’

I arch a brow but say nothing. He’s embarrassed, lashing out to save face like a cornered predator. Can’t say I don’t understand the impulse—we alphas do love our pride.

Thane’s deep voice cuts through the crisp mountain air, his tone clipped with impatience. ‘We’re wasting time.’

We plunge back into the twisted maze of the forest, Valek taking point with that uncanny sense of his. The snow crunches beneath my boots, each breath a plume of frozen vapor in the chill air.

Whiskey is already long gone, and as usual, he hasn’t been answering when Thane tries to contact him. But I’m sure he’s fine. He’s nothing if not resourceful.

Or lucky. It could certainly be luck.

But some of us need to take a more measured approach, just in case she fell into the snow and her tracks have been covered up, so I scan every inch of forest consumed beneath our boots.

My gaze drifts to the looming silhouette of the mountains, those jagged peaks ripping at the slate-gray sky like the serrated edges of a blade. So much untamed wilderness, so many places for a lone omega to vanish without a trace.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold races down my spine.

We can’t lose her out here. Can’t let those twisted bureaucrats at the Council win by sacrificing her to these merciless heights on some misguided attempt to control us.

Control me.

The thought kindles a slow-burning ember of rage in my chest. How dare they use her, put her in harm’s way like some sort of…

My eyes narrow, fingers flexing at my sides.

Fuck.

Now she’s out there alone, best case scenario.

Worst case? She’s with Wraith.

My vision bleeds crimson at the edges, a snarl building in my chest. How many times have I considered ending Wraith, putting that rabid beast out of his misery before he can hurt someone? How many times have I stared at that mask, at the shredded ruin of his face, and thought about doing us all a favor?

I could do it so easily. Slip a bit of something extra into a vaccine.

He’s barely human, really. It wouldn’t even be murder.

How many times have I been tempted?

Too many to count.

And now, because of my weakness, Ivy is out here alone with that same feral alpha. Completely at his nonexistent mercy, with nothing to protect her but her own wits and a few scraps of stolen gear.

My chest constricts, each ragged breath like shards of ice in my lungs. I can’t lose her. Can’t let her slip through my fingers and be lost to this frigid hell, not when I’ve only just found her.

‘Hey.’ Valek’s harsh rasp cuts through the haze of my spiraling thoughts. ‘You still with us, Doc?’

I blink, the world snapping back into focus. Thane and the others have paused ahead, all eyes on me with varying degrees of concern and impatience etched across their features.

‘Yeah,’ I growl, forcing the tremor from my voice. ‘Just thinking.’

Valek’s brows knit, something like understanding flickering in those fathomless dark depths. ‘About what you’re gonna do if we find our rabbit torn apart by that wild dog Thane’s been letting off leash? Funny, I was thinking the same thing.’

He isn’t wrong.

‘Shut the fuck up and find her,’ Thane snarls, his voice a guttural growl one tone off from an alpha’s bark.

I grab his arm, because I can tell he’s thinking about lunging. Few subjects are more sensitive for him than his brother, and the last thing we need is him flying into one of his rages right now.

‘Enough, both of you,’ I mutter. ‘We need to move.’

They both hesitate, and I decide I’m done playing peacemaker. ‘Fine,’ I say, trudging forward. ‘Rip each other apart if you like. I’m finding her.’

Eventually, they follow, a grudging and noiseless truce. They don’t have to like each other. Hell, I don’t like either one of them right now.

Ivy needs us calm. Needs us focused, and sharp.

Because if Wraith has hurt her, if that rabid mutt has so much as laid a finger on her delicate flesh…

The wind picks up, slicing through my layers with icy teeth. I hunker down, bracing against the sudden onslaught as the first flurries begin to swirl through the skeletal trees.

Valek curses a blue streak in his native tongue, waving a hand to beckon us forward at a quicker pace. We press on in grim silence, the snow crunching beneath our boots the only sound save for our ragged breaths misting the frigid air.

My gaze sweeps the bleak terrain, searching for any sign of our missing omega. A scrap of fabric snagged on a branch, a wayward footprint marring the pristine powder…

But there’s nothing. Just the endless march of snow-capped peaks and gnarled trunks, the world slowly disappearing beneath a veil of swirling white.

And thanks to the suppressant, tracking her by scent isn’t an option.

At least other alphas won’t have an easy time finding her, either.

Dread coils in the pit of my stomach, icy tendrils snaking through my veins. What if we’re too late? What if the winter has already claimed her, swallowing her tiny form in its merciless maw?This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I can’t lose her. Won’t.

My fingers tighten around the strap of my med kit until the knuckles blaze white. I will tear this frozen wasteland apart with my bare hands if I have to.

Because Ivy is ours.

Valek slows to a halt, raising a fist to signal the rest of us. I tense immediately, a feral snarl building in my chest as my gaze snaps to the treeline.

A massive silhouette emerges from the swirling vortex of snow and shadow, looming and imposing even at a distance.

Wraith.

The breath freezes in my lungs, every muscle coiling with the urge to lunge forward, to tear into that twisted creature with until I’ve ripped the last shred of life from his ruined body.

Before I can react, another bulky figure comes through the blinding whiteout.

Whiskey.

And there’s a shock of auburn hair over his shoulder, waving in the wind like a flag. My throat constricts, my jaw clenching so hard it hurts.

Ivy.

The sight of her limp form draped over his back sends a spike of pure terror through me. She’s not moving.

Is she…?

No. I can’t even give voice to the thought, can’t let the possibility solidify into something real and horrifying.

Because if she’s gone…

If her light has been snuffed out by that vicious beast…

Then I might as well let the merciless cold claim me, too. Let the icy void swallow me whole.

I move forward, not stopping until I get to her.

It takes every ounce of control I possess not to lunge forward and snatch her from Whiskey, to wrap her in the protective circle of my own arms and snarl at the others to back the fuck off.

Mine, the possessive impulse roars through my skull, a primal chant that blots out all logic and reason.

The scent hits me like a sledgehammer to the sternum, cutting off my thoughts in an instant.

Blood. So much blood, thick and coppery on the crisp mountain air.

My gaze snaps to Ivy’s still form, taking in the rust-stained bandage wrapped haphazardly around her bicep. Fresh panic washes through me, a jagged shard of ice piercing my heart.

‘What happened?’ I rasp, already reaching out to probe the blood-soaked dressing with trembling fingers.

‘She’s hurt,’ Whiskey growls, the words edged with a hint of reluctant respect. ‘Took a round to the arm, by the looks of it. Lost a good bit of blood, too.’

‘Wraith…’ The name sticks in my throat like shards of glass, every protective instinct screaming at me to turn and obliterate the threat he poses.

‘He didn’t do this,’ Whiskey says, shaking his head sharply. ‘Ivy said he’s the one who bandaged her up, kept her warm through the night. Pretty sure she’d be worm food by now if he hadn’t found her first.’

I freeze, the words crashing over me in a disorienting wave.

Wraith… saved her?

Protected her instead of slaughtering her like the mindless beast he is?

The very notion is so antithetical to everything I know about that twisted wreck of an alpha that I can scarcely process it. My gaze drifts to where he looms a few paces back, silent and impassive as ever behind that mask.

Those ice-blue eyes bore into me, daring me to say something, to challenge Whiskey’s story.

It doesn’t make sense.

But I can’t find the words, can’t muster the anger and outrage that should be blazing through me at the mere thought of anyone laying hands on my obsession.

Because those same destructive hands seem to have saved her life. To have sheltered her from this frozen hell in whatever twisted way they could.

I take a steadying breath, ruthlessly shoving aside the roiling tempest of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Confusion, relief, the lingering tendrils of terror… all of it is secondary right now. Ivy needs me focused, needs my skills as a healer more than she needs me as her obsessed alpha.

For now.

‘We need to get her inside,’ I growl, already scanning our surroundings. ‘The mansion has a small clinic. I’ll be able to treat her properly there.’

Thane wastes no time, already turning on his heel and forging a path back toward the mansion. I trail close on his heels, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and take Ivy from Whiskey’s back.

She’s mine, goddammit. Only I should be allowed to touch her, to carry her precious form.

The thought is pure possession, the ravenous hunger of alpha instincts given rein to devour every last shred of reason and logic.

Get a grip, Plague.

I force myself to look away from her, to focus on the path ahead instead of the intoxicating curve of her throat, the swell of those full lips slightly parted on each shallow exhale.

Wraith follows a few paces behind, that hulking silhouette swallowed by the swirling snow. I can feel the weight of his stare, those pale eyes boring into the back of my skull. Watching, always watching with that disturbing intensity.

It’s unnerving, the way that monster seems to orbit Ivy now. Like she’s the sun around which his fractured mind revolves, grounding him in a way I’ve never seen before.

The thought should terrify me. This is Wraith, after all. The monster whose violent outbursts have nearly gotten us all killed more times than I can count.

And now he’s fixated on Ivy with that same single-minded intensity.

It should make me want to turn and tear him apart with my bare hands, to eliminate the threat before he can so much as breathe the same air as my omega.

But he protected her when the rest of us failed.

The realization is a bitter pill to swallow, an admission that the very monster I’ve deemed too dangerous to allow to live may not be entirely devoid of worth after all.

A low growl rumbles in my chest, equal parts confusion and reluctant acceptance.

Maybe there’s more to the brute than I realized. More than just a raging beast driven by bloodlust and the need to destroy.

The thought is almost… reassuring, in a twisted way.

Almost.

We finally reach the mansion’s rear entrance, a heavy steel door set into the concrete foundation. Thane wrenches it open, the hinges screaming in protest as frigid gusts swirl inside. I duck through the entrance and follow Thane down a series of stark, featureless corridors.

At last, we reach a heavy metal door marked with a faded red cross. The clinic, no doubt purposed for triage and emergency care back when this place was still in active use.

I push through without hesitation, already scanning the space with a critical eye. Dim fluorescent lights flicker to life, bathing the room in a sickly glow that only accentuates the drab monotony of steel and concrete.

Not exactly a five-star medical facility. But it’ll have to do.

‘Put her on the exam table,’ I say, already striding toward the locked supply cabinets lining one wall. I rip them open with ruthless efficiency, rifling through the meager contents in search of anything I can use.

Bandages, antiseptic, sterile gauze… all present and accounted for, if in short supply. But no IV drips or blood packs, no heavy-duty antibiotics or other advanced treatments.

I’ll have to make do with what I’ve got in my field kit. Pray that it’s enough to stabilize Ivy until we can get her somewhere with real facilities.

A soft creak of metal on metal draws my attention. I turn to find Whiskey gently lowering Ivy’s limp form onto the exam table, those big hands surprisingly tender as he tucks Wraith’s bloodied coat around her.

I fight back a possessive snarl at the sight, forcing myself to remain calm and detached. This isn’t about me and my twisted desires. It’s about saving her life, pure and simple.

Striding to the table, I lean over her pale form and begin my assessment with cold, clinical precision. Her pulse is thready but present, her breathing shallow but even. Good signs, all things considered.

The bandage is another story. I peel back the sodden fabric with careful movements, revealing the ugly furrow gouged into her upper arm. The flesh is inflamed and oozing, streaks of red already radiating out in the telltale signs of infection setting in.

‘Shit,’ I mutter, probing the wound with gloved fingers. ‘This is going to need more than just a few stitches and some antiseptic.’

‘Well, get on with it then,’ Valek snaps from the corner where he lounges, somehow managing to look bored despite the tension thrumming through the room.

I level a scathing glare in his direction, the sudden urge to throttle the smirking bastard nearly overpowering me. ‘This is serious, Valek,’ I bite out through gritted teeth. ‘She’s lost a lot of blood, and the infection is already raging through her system. If I don’t get some antibiotics and a transfusion set up soon…’

I trail off, unable to give voice to the unthinkable possibility. Losing her now, after everything, after she somehow managed to survive the impossible out there…

It’s not an option. Not for me.

‘A transfusion?’ Thane rumbles, already shrugging out of his tac vest and rolling up the sleeve of his thermal shirt. ‘Take what you need from me.’

‘I can’t,’ I say with a shake of my head, the words like ash on my tongue. ‘You’re AB positive. It would trigger a rejection.’

Thane’s jaw tightens, frustration flickering across those harsh features. ‘Then who⁠—’

‘I’m O negative,’ Valek cuts in, already unzipping his jacket and crossing to the supply cabinets without waiting for me to ask. ‘Universal donor and all that shit. Better start prepping, Doc.’

I stare at him for a heartbeat, stunned into silence by the uncharacteristic display of… what? Concern? Compassion?

From Valek, of all people?

But there’s no mistaking the grim set of his mouth, the tightness around those frigid eyes as he retrieves the tubing and bags needed to set up a direct transfusion line.

Gritting my teeth, I give a terse nod and turn back to Ivy, already reaching for a fresh roll of bandages. I work in tense silence, my movements sure and precise as I redress the wound and hang the first bag of Valek’s blood.

I try not to think about it too hard, try not to dwell on the implications of having this twisted killer’s lifeblood flowing through Ivy’s veins. Because it’s for her own good, a necessary evil to keep her from slipping away into the abyss.

That’s all it is. All it can be.

And yet…

I glance over to where Valek slouches against the wall, arm outstretched as his ruby essence slowly fills the second bag hooked to the slender needle embedded in his vein.

My eyes linger on the viscous liquid, tracking the slow drip as it flows down the length of tubing and disappears beneath the crisp white dressing now swaddling Ivy’s wounded arm.

An irrational flare of possessiveness surges through me, a snarl building in my chest as I watch that tainted essence mingling with hers.

Mine, a voice in the back of my skull howls, a primal cry that blots out all reason. My omega, my wildfire, mine alone to claim and⁠—

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the twisted impulse down with every ounce of willpower I possess. This is about saving her life, nothing more. About preserving that precious flame until I can tend to it properly, shelter it and keep it safely banked until the moment is right.

Nothing else matters beyond that singular goal. Not the feral beast lurking in the hallway, not the twisted obsession churning in my veins.

Just Ivy.

I lose track of how long I work, my world narrowing to the steady beep of the heart monitor and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. At some point, Valek disappears, replaced by Whiskey.

I don’t acknowledge him, don’t acknowledge any of them. Just continue my silent vigil, monitoring her vitals with an intensity that borders on reverence.

Eventually, the furrow of her brow eases, the harsh lines of pain smoothing into something more peaceful. Her color improves, the waxy pallor giving way to a healthier flush as the infection begins to purge from her system.

Only then do I finally allow myself to slump back on my heels, exhaustion crashing over me in a dizzying wave. My gaze drifts to the window, to where the first pale rays of dawn are just beginning to chase away the shadows.

A new day.

And she’ll live to see it.