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Summary
Shane’s cut off from his tirade of frantic internal dialogue by a low snarl across from him.
Ilya is baring his teeth, the sound ripping out of him vicious enough to send kits running. Gone is the carefree persona he shows the public and in its place is a man reduced to his baser instincts. His eyes flash pure gold, just for an instant, and the Russian’s scent swells impossibly into the air, cloying Shane’s lungs.
“Ya chuvstvuyu zapakh meda, kotoryy stekayet s tebya.”
The words are spit through clenched teeth and Ilya’s nostrils flare. Shane has no idea what the other player said but it’s obvious that he knows, oh god, the Alpha knows that the Omega is wet for him.
—
Shane is an Omega who can’t afford to let his instincts drive him. Ilya is an Alpha purely driven by instinct. Against the Omega’s knowledge, Shane’s scent is slowly driving the Alpha insane.
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