Tangled

35 Clayton: Overcome (II)

CLAYTON

I tear at the hands restraining me, snarling with a fury that nearly chokes me. The scent of my mate–my omega–still clings to my skin, an intoxicating perfume that drives me to the brink of madness.

“Let me go!” I roar, thrashing against the iron grip of my beta and the guards I’d assigned to Ava’s room–all mated, all safe from her heat. They hold fast, dragging me further from the room where she lies. Further from

the sweet siren song of her scent.

“Alpha, you must control yourself,” Rowan grits out, his voice strained with the effort of containing my rage. But control is a distant memory, shattered the moment. I caught her scent. The moment I knew she was mine.

“She needs me,” I growl, the words tearing from my throat like shards of glass. Every fiber of my being screams to go to her, to claim what is mine by right. To sink my teeth into the soft curve of her neck and mark her as my own. To fuck her, to breed her, to

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35 Clayton: Overcome (II)

claim her so no one else can. So my scent is all over

her. So she’s mine. All mine.”

But they don’t understand. They can’t feel the primal pull, the all–consuming need that sets my blood on fire. She’s my mate, the other half of my soul. And they dare to keep me from her?

I lunge forward, a savage roar building in my chest. But more hands grasp at me, holding me back. I can hear their voices, a distant buzz drowned out by the pounding of my own heart.

“Alpha, please. You’re not in your right mind.”

“She’s in heat, Clayton. You know what that means.” Rowan grunts. “Fuck, you might have to hold me back, too. I can smell her. Shit. I need her.”

deal with the

Wake

fucking omega heat is bullshit. Fuck. Fuck! This is killing me. Clayton! Wake the fuck up! Hey, you–hit me. Hit me once

words, along with a

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Clayton: Overcome

I’m going to need to

restrained.”

are meaningless. All that matters

doorway, her face flushed and eyes glazed with need. Need for me. The sight sends a bolt of pure, primal desire shooting through

vengeance.

the fucking door!” I hear someone yell, and then the door

name a prayer and a curse on my

“Ava!”

and further from her intoxicating presence. The scent

against the restraints holding me back. The hands grappling at my arms, my shoulders, are nothing more than infuriating obstacles keeping me from what is mine. From

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Clayton: Overcome

you!” I snarl, my wolf raging just

clawing to be set free. To

cuts through the red haze of need clouding my mind. “You have to

clutch at me, their grips like iron shackles, but I shake them off with a

to get

salivating with want. With need. My wolf howls inside me, a savage, possessive thing that demands to be sated. To claim its mate in the most primal

it anymore. I

me. The door to her room is so close now, just a few strides away. I can almost taste her on

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Overcome

intoxicating.

then, as if by some cosmic twist of fate, the door swings open. There she is, framed in the doorway