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    Summary

    He will be a handful,” Svetlana says cooly, in step beside him. Her heels have no bother picking over the debris either.

    Ilya’s smiles again, but he imagines it is not a soft thing, carving across his face. The leash is sitting, uselessly now, on the boy’s chest, the soft rise and fall of it. From here, he is close enough that Ilya can make out the details of his freckles scattered across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. Ilya could bury his nose in the omega’s hair, if he wanted. He doesn’t, not because he does not want.

    He is perfect,” he replies. The beast in Ilya’s chest snaps its jaws once, twice, at the shadows that extend their sharpened claws towards them. The night presses in but does not touch the boy in his arms.

    Or, Ilya Rozanov is told to find an omega to further his family's legacy. Ilya does it the way he knows best: with blood. But, after winning omega Shane in a fight, and finding something worth protecting, Ilya may have to learn to tame the beast.

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