Manuscript Monday Omega Untamed (Lost Wolves Book Five): Playing Pretend Feels Damn Real

Yay! Another Monday is here, and I'm actually posting this on time. Well, the book is with my beta readers and editor, and I'm still working out a few kinks on my own. Endings are hard, imo.

Especially when I sort of like the villain. I mean, he's a total asshole (and he's pretty terrible), but he's also interesting. Writer's dilemma. I want to write something from his POV, but I know he shouldn't get a happy ending. And he *might* be dead at the end of this book. Or not. I haven't decided yet. That's another dilemma altogether. . . . .

Oh, but I do have more from Haikyuu! I should focus on another ship sometime. Or another anime/manga, but for now we have more Noya/Asahi love. Because the cuteness overwhelms me. Also, Noya is amazing. I love him.

Aren't we all?

I feel like these pics sum up how their relationship progresses. ^_^

And now more from the next Lost Wolves book! This is sort of a long one, almost 2k! Abel and Dagz play pretend to rile up a group of hunters for reasons. Also, sexiness. 

Abel glanced at the group of seven hunters, all male. Only one of them hadn’t joined in the game of talking about Jovana and her figure and what they’d like to do with her if alone. That hunter sipped his beer in silence and scowled at the men around him.

“I’m listening.”

Dagz scratched the back of his head. Rubbed the mark on his neck. “I think he really loves her. Or did. He always tried to talk to her alone, and they thought I was asleep so they talked in front of me.”

Abel stilled. “About what?”

“Dinner. Sometimes they argued about work. Movie shows. Human things.”

A predatory smile spread across Abel’s lips, and if those hunters hadn’t already killed Jacqueline, Dagz might’ve felt sorry for them.

His stomach tightened in the brightness of the alpha’s smile and the way Abel rose with such easy grace. Dagz felt like a lumbering elephant most of the time. Someone like Abel probably couldn’t stand to see the way he moved.

Dagz remained seated, and the alpha offered him a hand. His fingers were tapered and medium length, his palms squared, and he hadn’t touched Dagz with one of those hands very often since the day he agreed to let Dagz follow him.

Even though they moved together on a daily basis. Ate meals. Slept in the same room (with twin beds and scratchy sheets). Jerked off in the shower –well, Dagz did because the way Abel looked at him woke up that need regularly. Abel had several times as well, and Dagz felt the ghost of his hand move over Dagz’s own cock. He’d fisted his hands and didn’t touch himself for fear Abel would feel it and retaliate.

Painfully.

So, this really was unprecedented.

The omega stared, and tentatively reached out to take it.

“You’re supposed to stand up,” Abel said and tugged.

Dagz didn’t need the help, but he didn’t mention that. He liked the way his palm tingled when it came into contact with Abel’s, the warmth welcome. It happened more and more lately—as if Yue meant for them to meet. Like Abel’s hand belonged inside Dagz’s own, but he was probably the only one who felt that way.

A smile still shone in Abel’s face, not the least bit subdued, but it had an edge to it now. Like a mask slipped over his perfect features and made them sharper.

A jester’s smile.

No.

The Jester’s smile.

Abel got that expression when he was going to hurt someone.

“Come on. Let’s go make some new friends.”

Dagz didn’t know how to make friends, but he figured the alpha wasn’t going to bake those hunters a cake.

Abel slipped out of the building, his gray coat buttoned and the collar popped against the weather, and held out his hand. “Take my hand and pretend. Can you do that?”

Dagz swallowed the lump that engorged his throat and nodded. “Pretend to hold your hand or be your lover?”

The alpha’s fingers interlocked with his own, and the lump moved into his chest and ached. “Lovers. What the hell good would pretending to hold hands do? Don’t worry. I’m very much into consent, so if you’re not comfortable—”

“It’s fine. I’m comfortable,” Dagz hummed under his breath, and let his grip on Abel’s hand tighten just a bit. The cuff pressed against his arm, cool in the air, and his wrist tensed under it.

Pretend to be an alpha’s lover? He’d never had that sort of order before. And it wouldn’t be difficult at all. Not with Abel. Or the Jester, who was really the one who looked into his face right now and studied him with narrowed violet eyes.

“Good to hear. We’re going to play lovers at this bar and get these hunter’s attention. Let’s make a scene.”

“Will they recognize me?” Dagz asked, and stood still.

The Jester gave him the once over. “I hardly recognize you. Those men saw an animal when they saw you. Nothing more. Now, they’ll see a man they want to reduce to an animal.”

A shudder trailed up Dagz’s back. Abel said it with such certainty, and Dagz knew how true it was, not only for humans (hunters), but for shifters as well. He nodded.

Abel pulled him across the street without any further instructions. As they neared the bar, Abel let out a laugh at some joke Dagz never told, but it was sweet enough that the omega didn’t have to pretend to smile. He just did.

That caught the hunter’s attention. Dagz felt the sudden heat of it, though he didn’t bother looking at them.

Not yet.

“I’m thirsty,” Abel said and nudged Dagz’s shoulder. His French was perfect. There wasn’t even a hint of the accent he had while speaking English.

Dagz smiled and pushed open the little wrought iron gate that led to the bar’s patio seating, keeping their hands locked together. The patio curled along the building, one side blocked by potted plants and the other by the painted brick of the bar itself. The paint was pale blue and chipping.

The days were getting longer though the chill of spring bit the air. In the falling dusk, the streetlamps flickered on one by one, and the yellow warmth from the inside of the bar beckoned them. Still, it wouldn’t have done any good. They had to be close to the hunters to rouse them.

And Dagz had an idea how to rouse them.

Abel understood humans well.

They settled at a table, tucked next to the brick wall and an alley that led behind the bar. There wasn’t anyone else on the patio besides the group of hunters, and the street was nearly deserted.

A few of the hunters mumbled something rude, but none of them said anything outright. Not yet.

Abel put up a hand and hailed a waiter. He ordered two beers and threw a charming grin at Dagz that did something to the omega’s insides that shouldn’t happen when they were playing pretend. It felt like a flock of sparrows took off in his stomach and launched for his heart, but they had no where to go so they fluttered around inside.

After the waiter brought their drinks, Abel started a spirited discussion about their apartment and buying a bigger bed. His eyes twinkled dangerously, and his voice pitched so the hunters had to hear him. It’d be impossible not to, even for a human.

“I like our bed. It means you have to sleep close to me, no matter what,” Dagz said, since this was pretend and they’d only ever really slept together (in the same bed) once. Plus, if he agreed with Abel straight out, he’d have to come up with a way to steer their conversation about a fake apartment. Dagz had never even lived in an apartment. Or owned anything more than the clothes on his back.

To his surprise, Abel’s cheeks flushed slightly, but it was probably due to the weather and nothing else.

“Tell me how much you like our bed,” Abel purred and took a sip of his beer. The foam stuck to his lips, and he licked it off slowly. Deliberately. Taunting Dagz with all the things it could do.

A charge shot through Dagz’s system, almost like the battle fury, but it started in his groin instead of his brain. He took a long gulp of his own beer to counter it. Or maybe he should use it. For their game. It was just pretend, and it didn’t take long for him to think of what to say.

“I like the way you look when you’re lying in it. When you’re naked, and it’s too hot to sleep with any clothes on. I like the way you feel when you’re pressed against me and your sweat is sticky on my skin, and it smells just like you. Like your musk.”

The Jester’s mask cracked at the edge. It was merely a hairline fracture, but it was enough that Dagz noticed the difference in the way the alpha took a sharp breath and his cheeks flared in the failing light.

A hand slipped over his knee, and Dagz jolted at the touch—the nearness. Abel leaned close, his breath brushing the omega’s ear. “You’re good at this. Keep an eye on them. Let me know when they look ready to do something. Nuzzle my neck.”

Dagz obliged and shot a glance at the table of hunters. Most of them ignored the scene, however blatant, though the one who loved Jovana scowled at them from time to time.

That’s probably what Abel wanted.

Abel let out a low moan as Dagz’s mouth brushed the sensitive flesh along his neck, lightly, and his body trembled just enough that the omega felt it through his bones too.

“Well?” Abel asked, breath hot on Dagz’s ear.

Dagz’s hands burned at his sides. A lover wouldn’t sit like that, he figured, and brought one hand up to cradle the back of Abel’s head, his fingers rough against the smooth hair. What was the question again?

Right.

The hunters.

“No reaction.”

He felt more than saw the frown on Abel’s lips.

Dagz took another sip of beer an planted a kiss on Abel’s forehead, something a lover would do, he figured.

Abel slumped back into his chair and finished his own. He looked almost ready to pull out a knife and start a fight with all seven of the hunters when the party started to disperse.

That wasn’t good.

If they left, Abel would be mad (Dagz figured) and they wouldn’t know anything about the white coats or the active bases.

The hunters stood and started putting out money for the bill when the idea struck him. Too bad he didn’t have time to explain. The Jester probably wouldn’t kill him for it. “Pay and get up,” Dagz said, his voice low.

Abel didn’t even question him, which was amazing for an alpha. He slapped ten Euros on the table and stood.

A few of the hunters eyed them now.

Dagz pulled Abel into him so they were pressed together, chest to chest, and bent down. This is what lovers would do. At least, he thought so, based on years of observation. What Dagz would do if he had a lover—if Abel was his lover. Though, that seemed more impossible than controlling the battle fury. His kind didn’t get lovers.

The Jester’s mask considered him for a moment, but Abel didn’t shove him away or break his hold. That meant this was all right. Or Dagz would be punished for it later. He could live with that.

He kissed Abel quickly so he didn’t have to focus on the sudden breath Abel took or the way his lips looked too perfect to disrupt. When their mouths met, Dagz ignored the sensation that rocketed through his veins and the impossible heat of those lips as they surged against his. Or the way Abel’s tongue pressed into Dagz’s mouth and tasted him, licked his teeth gently and took his breath away.

It was all pretend.

A game.

To fool the hunters.

And Abel was the best actor in the world. His fingers tangled in Dagz’s jacket, and he leaned up, probably on his toes, to draw out the kiss that much longer.