The Billionaire’s Scavenger Omega

Chapter 7: The Pull of the Moon

The penthouse was too quiet. After the screaming drones and the crashing glass of the cathedral, the soft hum of the air conditioning felt like a physical weight on Astra’s eardrums.

Leo was asleep in the medical wing, hooked up to a glowing blue IV that was steadily pumping life back into his lungs. The doctors had looked at Astra with a new kind of fear in their eyes, the kind of look usually reserved for Dante.

Astra stood in the center of the master bedroom, her fingers trembling as she tried to reach the zipper of the purple silk dress. Her muscles felt like they had been shredded and glued back together. Every time she moved, the silver moon on her palm pulsed with a dull, rhythmic ache.

"Let me."

The voice came from the shadows near the balcony. Dante was leaning against the doorframe, his silhouette cut sharp against the neon city lights behind him. He had stripped off his dress shirt, leaving him in a dark undershirt that clung to the heavy muscle of his shoulders.

Astra froze. "I can do it."

"You can barely stand, Astra," Dante said, his voice dropping into that low, sandpaper rasp. He walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the thick rug.

He stopped just behind her. The heat radiating off his body was like a physical wall, making the back of Astra’s neck prickle. She could smell him, the woodsmoke was gone, replaced by a raw, heavy scent of Alpha and ancient forest. It was the scent of a predator who had finally cornered his prize.

His fingers brushed against her spine. Astra let out a sharp, jagged breath. Where his skin touched hers, the "itch" of the mate bond turned into a searing, electric current.

"Your heart is racing," he murmured. He gripped the zipper and pulled it down, the sound of the silk parting feeling unnervingly loud in the quiet room.

The dress loosened, sliding down her shoulders. Astra clutched the fabric to her chest, her skin flushed. She turned around to face him, her eyes wide and defiant even as her knees threatened to buckle.

"Is this part of the contract too?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Now that I’ve proven I’m a 'High Omega,' do you get to claim the trophy?"

Dante’s eyes flared a solid, molten gold. He stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup her jaw. His thumb traced the line of her bottom lip, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man who had just threatened to tear a pack apart.

"The contract burned the moment you shattered those windows, Astra," he said, his voice vibrating in his chest. "I don't want a trophy. I want the girl who looked at a Billionaire Alpha and told him his world was a cage."

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "My wolf hasn't stopped howling since we left the cathedral. He wants to mark you. He wants the whole city to smell that you're his. And God help me, I’m running out of reasons to stop him."

Astra’s breath hitched. She should have pushed him away. She should have reminded him that he’d bought her life with a serum. But as his thumb brushed over her pulse point, she felt her own wolf, the Lunar wolf, leaning into his touch.

"I’m not a queen, Dante," she breathed, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I’m a scavenger. I have dirt under my nails and scars on my back."

"Then I’ll be the king of the dirt," Dante growled.

He didn't wait for her to answer. He tilted her head back and kissed her.

It wasn't a "billionaire" kiss, polished and polite. It was a wolf’s kiss. It was hungry, desperate, and filled with a decade of loneliness. It tasted like salt and heat. Astra’s world narrowed down to the feeling of his lips on hers and the massive, crushing power of the bond finally snapping into place.

The silver moon on her palm flared with a blinding light, and for the first time in her life, Astra didn't feel broken. She felt like she was home.

She pulled back just an inch, her lungs burning. "If we do this... if I stay... I’m not going to be a secret. I’m not going to be 'protected' in a glass tower while my people rot in the Grey Zone."

Dante looked at her, his expression a mixture of agony and adoration. "You’re going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

"Probably," Astra whispered, a small, tired smile touching her lips.

"Fine," Dante said, lifting her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. "Then we’ll burn the city down together. But tonight... tonight, you’re just mine."