Beast
J.S. Wilder
The sweet-spicy scent of an omega blooming into heat tickled my nose, and I paused mid-punch.
Fuck.
There weren’t many omegas, and the alpha wolf in me craved this one already. I grabbed the purse, removed the cash from my wallet, and stuffed it inside. Then I looked for someplace safe, like a store with security cameras or a police station, and ran across the street to a 24-hour gym. I wanted the woman with the kids to get her money back and a bit extra for having to deal with a purse snatcher.
Inside, transcendental non-Western music of some kind played over the speakers. Guess it had helped drown out the thief’s screams.
Bab Populer