Unhinged Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 4)

As I drift up through layers of exhaustion and soreness, I find myself still curled against the Knight’s massive frame. His arm is draped protectively over me, metal claws glinting in the early morning light. The memories of the past twenty-four hours flood back, making my cheeks flush.

Well.

That happened.

My heat has finally broken, leaving me wrung out but clear-headed for the first time in days. The Knight’s fever seems to have broken too. His skin is still warmer than a normal human’s, but no longer burning hot to the touch.

Another realization hits me.

It’s the first night I didn’t dream about him.

I try to sit up, but my muscles scream in protest. Everything hurts. Places I didn’t even know could hurt are letting me know exactly how they feel about taking this beast of an alpha’s knot.

The Knight stirs at my movement.

‘Morning,’ I mutter, not sure what else to say after he fucked me through my heat.

He just watches me, silent as ever. Though his deep, broken purring picks up as I stretch, working out the kinks in my muscles.

‘We need to get moving,’ I tell him, trying to ignore how the sound makes my chest feel warm. ‘It’s not safe to stay in one place too long.’

Back when I was trapped in that tower, I’d heard about the black market a few hours away. It’s our best bet for supplies, and more importantly, for emergency contraceptive pills. My life is already complicated enough without worrying about getting impregnated by a giant mutated alpha. Pretty sure that would be deadly.

Those pills are non-negotiable.

First priority.

The Knight follows my lead as I start gathering what little we have. He moves with surprising grace for someone so massive, though I notice he keeps his distance now. Almost like he’s afraid to touch me.

Like he thinks I’ll shatter if he gets too close.

We need clothes. The remnants of my robe barely qualify as fabric at this point, and the Knight’s tattered pants aren’t much better.

Plus, his face…

He keeps turning away whenever I look at him directly, obviously uncomfortable with that, but I don’t have to see his face again to remember he doesn’t exactly look human.

I scan our surroundings, trying to get my bearings. The river flows north to south, and I remember hearing that the black market lies somewhere to the northeast. If we follow the river north for a while, we should be able to find it.

Assuming we don’t get killed first.

We’ve been walking for maybe an hour when I hear them. Engines. The rumble of motorcycles approaching fast. The Knight tenses beside me, a low growl building in his chest.

‘Hide,’ I hiss, already looking for cover.

But it’s too late.

Three bikes burst through the trees, their riders whooping and hollering as they circle us. Raiders. Because of fucking course. The Knight moves in front of me, his growl deepening until my bones vibrate.

‘Well, well,’ one of the raiders calls out, cutting his engine. ‘What do we have here?’

His companions kill their engines too, dismounting with predatory grins and whistles. They’re all alphas, of course. Big, ugly brutes with more muscle than sense. Guess that’s why they don’t realize all those leather straps and spikes make them look like they just stepped out of the world’s worst BDSM club.

I take a step back, behind the Knight. My heart’s hammering instinctively in my chest even though I doubt I’m in danger from three shitty raiders. Not after what I saw the Knight do to Nikolai’s men.

A second raider, a huge guy with a tacky leather trench coat, does a double take when he tears his gaze away from my tits and sees the Knight’s face for what’s clearly the first time. ‘Is that a giant fucking zombie?’ he asks in a weak voice, blanching.

The Knight’s growl intensifies.

‘Zombies ain’t real,’ sneers the third raider, the one with a bald eagle tattooed over the entire upper left quadrant of his face. ‘Kill it and take the bitch.’

‘Who are you calling a bitch, bird brain?’ I growl, ready to claw his eyes out if he even tries, but the Knight explodes into action first. He moves faster than an alpha his size should be able to, crossing the distance to the first raider in two massive strides. His metal hand closes around the man’s throat and… squeezes.

The wet crunch of bone and cartilage being pulverized makes me gag.

The other raiders open fire, but their bullets might as well be raindrops for all the good they do. The Knight throws the first man’s corpse aside and lunges for the second, metal claws raking across his chest. Blood sprays in an arc as the raider screams.

I’ve never seen the inside of a ribcage before.

Neat.

Hope it’s the last time.

The third raider turns to run, but he doesn’t make it three steps before those claws punch through his back and out his chest. The Knight lifts him off his feet, studying him for a moment before ripping him in half like he’s tearing a piece of paper.noveldrama

It’s over in seconds.

The forest falls silent except for the Knight’s heavy breathing and the drip of blood from his claws. He glances back at me over his shoulder, his white hair obscuring his face, but I catch a glimpse of his blue gaze.

‘Thank you,’ I say quietly.

He doesn’t move or acknowledge me, but I swear he dips his head a little.

Sighing, I glance over the shredded raiders. ‘Waste not, want not,’ I mutter under my breath, my stomach coiling at the idea of touching the corpses. But the raiders’ clothes are mostly intact, if a bit bloody. The biggest raider’s tattered black jeans fit the Knight when I have him tear them off at the knees, and the trench coat works like a cloak with the sleeves tied around his broad shoulders.

Sort of.

He’s beyond huge, even in comparison to that brick wall of a raider. I’m almost impressed with myself for taking his cock last night without dying. Especially when I let my mind wander back to what I just saw him do with those claws. Good thing he isn’t completely feral and is clearly aware he could filet me like a damn fish without much effort.

For myself, I grab a relatively clean pair of pants—the other pair had piss in them—and a shirt that’s way too big but better than nothing. Tied around my waist with a belt, it’s sort of a dress. It’s sure better than the robe.

I’m surprised clothes stolen from the corpses of raiders isn’t a trendy style yet. Maybe I’ll be a fashion pioneer when I get back to my normal life.

When I turn back around, the Knight is gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Which is… strangely endearing, considering I know I’ve never looked like more of a mess in my life. But when I offer him a little smile, he looks away quickly so I can’t see his face. My heart sinks.

‘Wait here,’ I tell him before going over to one of the bikes.

Raiders always have saddlebags full of useful shit. Sure enough, I find what I’m looking for. A long scarf, probably stolen from some merchant caravan. It’s dark gray and surprisingly clean. Although my standards for ‘clean’ have admittedly dropped lately.

‘This’ll work,’ I say, turning around just in time to see him picking up one of the dismembered arms like he’s about to take a bite out of a chicken wing. His long tongue curls out through his sharp teeth.

‘Hey!’ I yell.

The Knight freezes.

‘Leave it! Unless you never want to lick my pussy again.’

He drops the arm into the dirt with a low growl, slouching in clear shame. I feel a twinge of guilt, but after digging through raider corpses for food, I can’t stomach him taking ‘waste not, want not’ to that level. If he wants to eat raiders, he can do it when I’m not watching.

Once I’m sure I’m not going to get sick, I hold up the scarf. ‘Come here.’

The Knight approaches cautiously. I have to gesture for him to bend down so I can reach, but once he does, I carefully wrap the scarf around his head and face, covering everything except his eyes and what remains of the upper corner of his mask. The fabric settles over his lower face, hiding the worst of the damage.

‘There,’ I say, stepping back to examine my work. ‘That should help. At least until we can find you a new mask.’

He reaches up to touch the scarf with his human hand, something almost like wonder in his eyes. Then he dips his head again, but this time it feels less like hiding and more like he’s grateful for some reason. Why? Because I’m being nice to him and treating him like a person?

‘Don’t mention it,’ I mutter, suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze. ‘We should get moving. Someone might have heard the gunshots.’

I eye the motorcycles, but they’re too small for the Knight’s massive frame. Plus, the noise would just draw more attention. On foot it is.

I grab a few more supplies from the saddlebags. All the money the raiders had on them, a flask of water, some dried meat jerky that looks edible and hopefully isn’t human, and most importantly, a bottle of what appears to be the world’s most offensive cologne. The scent makes my eyes water, but that’s the point. Combined with the Knight’s alpha musk all over me, it should help mask my omega scent.

I douse myself in the cologne, grimacing at the smell. ‘Sorry about this,’ I tell the Knight when he recoils slightly, looking like I’ve done something grievously offensive to him on a personal level. ‘But it’s better than advertising my presence to every alpha within ten miles.’

He makes a sound that might be agreement, or might just be disgust at the cologne. Hard to tell.

We start walking again, following the river north. The Knight stays close, but not too close, like he’s trying to give me space while still being near enough to protect me if needed. It should be weird, having the monster I’ve always been terrified of acting as my personal bodyguard.

But somehow, it just feels… right.

Like this is how it was always supposed to be.

My legs and feet are killing me, but I’m trying not to make it too obvious so he doesn’t worry. Can’t complain, really, when the Knight is trudging along beside me without a word despite his injuries.

Some of the bandages I applied yesterday have come loose or fallen off entirely. The wounds beneath are already starting to heal, but they still look painful. His incredible healing factor seems to be working overtime. Injuries that should have killed him are now just angry red cuts and dents in his skin.

I wonder what other modifications they made to him, besides the obvious metal parts. How much of him is still human? How much was changed in whatever facility made him this way?

And what happens when we reach the black market?

I can’t exactly walk around with an eight-foot-tall killing machine forever. Someone’s bound to recognize him eventually. And then what? Do we fight our way out? Run again?

Or maybe…

Maybe he’ll just disappear.

Like my nightmares always do when dawn comes.

The thought makes my chest tight in a way I don’t want to examine too closely. I push it aside, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

For now, we just need to survive.

I glance at the Knight, watching as he scans our surroundings with predatory focus. His metal arm gleams in the sunlight filtering through the gray clouds, a constant reminder of what was done to him. What he is.

But also what he isn’t.

He isn’t a mindless beast anymore. He’s something else. Something that chose to protect rather than destroy. Something that held me through my heat with a gentleness I never would have thought possible from hands made for killing.

Something that makes me feel safe in a world that’s anything but.

I don’t know what that means.

I’m not sure I want to know.