His Omega's Keeper

“I’m fine,” I said, lifting my chin and trying to look unfazed. “Jake killed our kidnappers before they could really do anything to me.”

I hoped my voice sounded strong and convincing. The room was filled with men in combat gear and all eyes turned towards me as I exited the bathroom.

“Where are your clothes?” the one with the deep, grating voice—a grizzled looking veteran who sounded like he smoked three packs a day—demanded.

“Do you take a bath in your clothes?” I countered, frowning haughtily at him. I was a Royal Were, I reminded myself. I was going to act like Royalty and dare them to question me.

It wasn’t lost on me that I might be acting for my life.

“Leave my little sister alone,” Jake growled at him. “She’s been through a fucking lot these past few days.”

“Oh yeah?” The grizzled guy narrowed his eyes at Jake and then looked at me. “What exactly has she been through? We know what the Worshipers of the Moon wanted from you two—we know all about their crazy prophecy that the line of the First Wolf must be continued.”

For a moment, a look of guilt crossed Jake’s face and I could see him trying to think how to respond.

“Yes, well, we know all about it, too,” I said, taking another step forward. “They’ve been doing nothing for the past few days but preaching to Jake and me non-stop, trying to indoctrinate us into their crazy cult. I’ve been bored stiff.” I yawned elaborately and then glared at the veteran guy. “What took you so long to come for us anyway?”

He stiffened, put on the defensive by my demand.

“We started searching as soon as the Royal Alpha called us,” he said, frowning. “But that wasn’t until twenty-four hours after you went missing, we estimate. Your parents were drugged, you see, Miss Wulven,” he added, speaking to me with considerably more respect, now that I had asserted my “Royal” lineage. “As soon as they woke up, they realized what had happened and called us. We’ve been tracking you ever since.”

“Well thank goodness you finally got here—though you’re a bit late,” I said, frowning at him. “Jake had to do all the dirty work, as you can see.” I pointed to the corpses on the floor and shivered dramatically.

“Yes, Miss Wulven. We’re sorry about that,” the grizzled veteran guy said. “We came as soon as we could.”

“Well now you can take us home, at least,” I said. “Is my mother, the First Royal Omega all right?” I added, a bit anxiously.

“She’s very well, just worried to death about you and your big brother,” the veteran said.

“Good.” I nodded regally. “The sooner I get home to her, the better. Take us right away!”

“Er…” The grizzled veteran coughed. “Would…do you want to get dressed first, Miss Wulven? It’s, uh, kind of cold out there.”

“No,” I said coolly. “My clothes were absolutely covered in blood—a complete loss. I’d rather go in a sheet and be a little chilly than put those gory things on again.” I shivered again, dramatically.

Jake caught my eye and I saw him give me a look of admiration, I let the corner of my mouth twitch up in a bare half-smile but inside I felt more like crying than laughing.

Tonight had been a lot and I knew I was probably going to break down later or maybe even have some kind of horrible PTSD from everything Jake and I had been through. But right now I had to hold it together, just a little while longer. Just until we could get home.

“You heard my sister,” Jake told the combat squad. “We need to get home to our parents. I’m sure our father and mother will be anxious to see us.”

The grizzled guy nodded his head respectfully.

“Yes, your Royal Highness,” he said, in a tone that was quite different from the one he’d first used to address Jake. It was a good thing my “haughty, Royal brat” attitude had worked. “We’ll see that you get home immediately. Private Rames!” he barked at one of the men, who jumped to attention.

“Yes, Sir!” he said, snapping a salute.

“Bring the Royal Heir and the Second Royal Omega back home to their family compound at once!” he barked. “But first…here, Miss Wulven.” Turning to me, he shrugged out of his combat jacket, which was camo and starched stiff. “Put that on over your, uh, sheet,” he told me. “I can come get it later when I brief your father, the Royal Alpha.”

“Thank you,” I said, nodding my head graciously. “That’s very kind of you…”

“Oh, Sergeant Sterns. At your service, Miss Wulven.” He nodded respectfully to me—a motion that was almost but not quite a bow.

“You’re most kind, Sergeant Sterns. I’ll be sure to tell my stepfather, the Royal Alpha, when I see him again,” I told him.