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In many ways, the end of the world came as a blessing. Sure, there was a lot that had to be given up– most of the creature comforts of the internet age– but there was a lot to be gained, too. Violet, for her part, took it all in stride.
When people started dying en masse and their corpses started to walk like the living, the resulting chaos brutally and efficiently created a new world order. The city she lived in was turned into a Quarantine Zone after the larger neighboring city was bombed and after that, Violet and her then-boyfriend got the hell out of dodge before the government set up fail safes to prevent people from leaving and entering.
Looking back on it, her boyfriend was always kind of a knothead.
She started dating him in the first place because she thought he was a good guy, and she was determined not to be one of those omegas who end up in relationships like her mother’s, married to an alpha who pretends to see you as an equal but secretly wishes it was still legal to own you. It was her boyfriend’s idea to leave the city, claiming he wasn’t going to tolerate being controlled by the government any longer. That should have been her first sign, really. What would he, an alpha privileged on all counts, know about having no autonomy?
At any rate, Violet made herself a promise: never again would she allow someone else to tell her what to do. For the most part, she’s stuck by that rule. She’s alone now because of that, but it’s better that way. It’s safer and more practical to only ever have to worry about yourself.
She has a house to herself, a whole neighborhood even, and most of a town, too. Living in the mountains has its perks, the main one being there’s little traffic now that most of the world is dead. So, when people come through, she takes notice.
The beta couple who lived near her for a few months moved along after the snow melted. Before they left, Violet treated them to a farewell breakfast, and they left her all the contents of their house that they couldn’t take with them. It was nice to have an amicable relationship with a neighbor, though they rarely saw each other.
To Violet’s knowledge, they were the only other people living near her. Except for the old man, she supposes, but he lives even farther up the hill than she does and he rarely comes into town on account of the walk. Besides, there’s too many bodies for him to have done this.
The street is littered with them– the zombies. Many of them are dead, killed for good, their unmoving forms sprawled and slumped over wherever they met their final end. Judging by the gashes in their heads, it was to a blade of some sort, perhaps an ax.
The rest of the dead, the ones still up and moving, linger around the site of the slaughter. Undoubtedly, they were attracted to the sound of the struggle and came to catch a chance at a meal. Most of them stand around, staring into space, swaying on their feet. Others wander around aimlessly. The rest crouch on their knees, ripping at their fallen brethren with their hands and teeth, ignoring the vultures circling near for the time being.
It’s likely multiple people were involved unless one person was capable of killing that many zombies alone without ammunition. That aside, the dead were drawn over deliberately, if Violet had to guess. Probably they killed as many as they could before the crowd got too big, thinking culling the herd would make navigating through town easier. Whatever the reason, it pisses Violet off– someone is in town and they’re killing the zombies.
Violet likes to leave the dead to their own devices whenever possible. They provide some amount of defense for the town against outsiders, though these ones are old and slow, no longer fresh enough to be dangerous unless you’re not being careful. And, if you smell like them, they’re unlikely to attack so long as they don’t realize you’re not one of the pack.
Violet, clad in her blood smeared jacket and stinking of rot, passes by the herd slowly. She makes no sudden movements, making no more noise than the zombies make themselves. They don’t pay her any mind, save for a few who stare at her with foggy eyes, lifting their faces to sniff the air.
Violet breathes in slowly, gritting her teeth. Her irritation is leaking into her scent, and if she doesn’t get that under control, the dead will come investigate. Fucking outsiders fucking up her peaceful trip to town.
Fucking outsiders, coming into town, into her territory, killing her zombies.
Not for the first time, she wishes she could scentmark the place, marking the town and the surrounding area leading up to her house as hers. If she were an alpha, she could, but she knows that no matter how much her scentmark says stay away, this is mine, there’s people who only see an omega’s scent as an invitation.
She takes care not to leave her scentmark around carelessly and always wears gloves when she touches anything outside her house. It’s comforting to know that her scent would have faded since the last time she was in town. Whoever has come into her territory doesn’t know she’s around. Good.
The last people she knew passed through a couple months ago– a pack of four, two alphas and two betas. Violet quickly decided she didn’t want them around and left traps for them, blowing off one of their faces with a firework in the process. They left after that, but now she’s out of fireworks.
Violet sniffs the air again, trying to catch the hint of a scent. All she gets is blood, the putrid stench of rotting flesh, and faint traces of her own omega sweetness, sharp with anger.
She adjusts the shotgun on her shoulder, then decides she better have it in her hands in case she runs into anyone. Shooting someone isn’t ideal seeing that it’s noisy and she has limited ammunition, but she wouldn’t say it’s her last resort. It’s better to be safe than sorry, and at least she’s not in the city.
Violet proceeds to her destination with caution, heading toward a specific house on the edge of town that she uses as a safe zone whenever she’s here. She stores supplies and sleeps in the attic on occasion. The attic window faces a fence and the forest, providing an escape route should she need it.
The moment she enters the house, Violet knows someone else has been inside. Alpha musk clings to the space, faint but noticeable when it’s the only scent of a living person other than herself that she’s smelled in months. She takes a moment to determine what exactly she’s smelling-- definitely two distinct alpha notes, but there could be more. There could be betas, too. Her nose might not be sharp enough to pick them up. So, two people or more are somewhere near her. Great. That’s just what she fucking needed.
Violet checks all of the rooms, breathing in slowly and rhythmically to calm herself down and steady her hands. All of the rooms are empty, thankfully, and when she pulls open the hatch that leads to the attic, finds that all of the stuff she left behind is still there and untouched. Too bad those alphas missed the only useful supplies left in this neighborhood. Violet’s scavenged the entirety of this part of town, too.
Violet fills her backpack with cans of food to take back to her house. Another time, she would carry bags to take up with her as well, but she wants to keep her hands free since there are people poking their filthy noses into her territory.
When she exits the house, she catches a whiff of alpha in the air. If she can smell it, the dead will be sure to smell it, too. Violet can work with that.
She pauses to take two kitchen timers out of her bag, shoving one into each pocket of her coat. She positions her shotgun in her hands, and weaves through town.
Once the alpha stench grows stronger, Violet stops and winds one of the timers until it’s set to thirty minutes. She sets it on the ground and retraces her steps. Along the way, she sets the other timer down and sets it to twenty.
Back at the scene of the slaughtered zombies, Violet pauses to refresh the blood on her coat. She wrinkles her nose as she dips her gloved hands into the torn open throat of a zombie. The consistency of congealed blood is always disgusting.
When she looks up, one of the dead is looking at her. Its eyes are filmy white, its skin rotten and coming off its body like a snake shedding its skin. It makes a groaning, whistling sound and clicks its teeth. Whatever designation it had in life is gone from its scent, replaced only by the stench of decomposition that’s slowed by the virus inside it.
Violet no longer wonders if there’s anything left of the person from before. Zombies are corpses animated by a virus, fueled only by hunger. That’s all they are. They’re certainly not human, not anymore. They’re wild animals, really– to be respected in their own right– but they’re not people.
The zombie continues to stare at her, sniffing the air. The older zombies can’t see very well, so she doesn’t know how much of her it actually processes. It’s likely it can tell when she moves, but she doubts it can see her features.
Violet backs away slowly and the zombie doesn’t follow her. She passed the scent test.
She makes her way back home, strips off her going-out clothes and puts on a pair of lounge clothes. It’s macaroni and bean soup for dinner, along with the last of the canned bread and a cup of tea. Tomorrow, maybe, she will forage for dandelion leaves and make herself a salad for breakfast.
All of the windows that can be reached without a ladder are barricaded, and these are the ones where she makes sure the curtains are completely shut. She’s thankful for the deck and the row of windows along it, which allow her to have light during the day. It’s one of the reasons she chose this house over the others– that and the view of the winding road over the treetops.
It’s not until after eating dinner when she’s trying to unwind for the rest of the evening that Violet realizes how tense she is. She shouldn’t relax when there’s strangers out there in her territory.
She forcibly unclenches her jaw and lights herself a cigarette as a treat. She doesn’t smoke often, only allowing herself one every now and again when she needs to destress. It’s not something she would have done before the apocalypse, but lung cancer is the least of her worries now.
Violet rolls her shoulders and takes a drag of her cigarette. She has a good life here, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. She’s made that choice before, and she’ll do it again.
The next day passes without interruption. The one after that does not.
Violet’s petunias need deadheading, so she’s out on the deck, soaking up the sun, when she sees movement on the road. She pauses, snippers in hand, and watches.
The figures on the road could be mistaken for zombies, but Violet knows better. While the dead do sometimes make it up to her house, living people move in a way that the dead do not. They stick to the middle of the road, not shambling or straying from the path. The dead only look like they know where they’re going if they hear something to follow or smell something they’d like to make a meal of. Violet reckons she would have heard any loud noises that might attract the ones from town.
Violet can be civil when it suits her, but when she tallies up a total of four people, she knows she’s going to be anything but. One person could be tolerable, but there’s no way she’s going to allow herself to be outnumbered if she can help it. They’re going to have to go, just like the others.
Someone laughs, and their laughter echoes through the trees. Violet grits her teeth. She sets her snippers down and walks inside, the hem of her pink sundress fluttering around her ankles. She puts on some boots and her worn brown leather jacket. Then, she grabs her shotgun.
There are two ways to go on the road. This group might continue straight ahead and never cross paths with her, but if they make it to her house, she’ll be ready to greet them.
Violet killed her alpha, and she’ll gladly kill a couple more if that’s what she has to do. She’s not losing everything she has just because some asshole thinks they can take it from her.
She watches and waits. She writes in her journal and for a while, she thinks she’s in the clear– and then she hears screaming.
The perimeter of her house is trip wired. It’s nothing lethal, but it’s noisy. Violet knows where to step to avoid setting them off, but unless you look, they’re easy to miss. She’s been doing a lot of reading on how to set traps for animals. They work on people, too.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck oh fuck. Fuck!” someone screeches and Violet smirks.
“Stop moving, dumbass,” another person snaps.
Violet grabs her gun and peeks through the slats in the windows. Three people stand around a man whose foot is caught in a bear trap, the metal clamped down neatly in his flesh. He triggered another trap, too, and whenever he moves his arm, a cluster of cans jangles from where it’s suspended in the tree. A woman, the one in the plaid shirt with the vest, takes out a switchblade and kneels on the ground so she can saw at the rope around the other man’s wrist.
“We’re going to have to pry that motherfucker open,” the man who’s still standing says, hands on his hips, gaze imperious. That’s one of the alphas Violet smelled earlier. She can smell him from here, his abrasive scent like sniffing gasoline. Some people like that. She doesn’t.
The fourth person stands stiffly to the side, eyes darting all around. She’s of medium build and is carrying a backpack, clearly encumbered if the hunch in her back is anything to go by. Her wrists are handcuffed behind her back, the cuffs attached to the straps of the backpack.
If Violet didn’t already know what she had to do, she does now. At worst, these people are slavers. At best, they’re the kind of people who see fit to take others hostage. Whatever the case, Violet knows she can’t let them get the upper hand.
The floor of her house is creaky, the door even more so, and she’ll have to tread carefully in order to get this right. She leans her whole weight against the door to soften the sound of the lock as she opens it, waiting until the suspended cans clatter as they hit the ground.
“We need to get the trap open,” the man on the ground says frantically. “We need to-- ahhhh, fuck!”
He screams as the woman who had cut the rope pries open the trap with a forceful grip and a grunt. The other woman, the one with the handcuffs, looks toward the front door. Her eyes go wide and she abruptly turns her face away. She doesn’t say anything, even as Violet pokes the nose of her shotgun past the screen door, aims it at the standing alpha, and fires directly at his chest.
His torso explodes in a gush of red, blood splattering out the back of him and all over the woman kneeling beside the man in the beartrap. She lets out a shocked gasp, stumbling to her feet, hands reaching into the back of her jeans.
She has enough time to grip the pistol and pull it out, but even if she had enough time to fire before Violet sends a round of buckshot her way, the clumsy kick from the cuffed woman hinders any chance she had. The hostage loses her balance and falls on her ass, scrambling backward on the dirt.
The other woman stumbles, rising to her knees, and Violet shoots. She was aiming higher, but it doesn’t matter too much seeing as her stomach’s been blasted open into a gory red mess of guts and blood. The impact of the shotgun shell made her slam into the man behind her, and he lets out a wild scream as he frantically attempts to shove her off of him.
The movement jostles his foot, and he screams and screams and screams some fucking more until Violet grits her teeth against the piercing sound. His hands slip over the woman’s bloody waist. She’s still alive, for now, and she chokes, just a little. It’s a gurgling sound, not unlike the sound her corpse will make if Violet decides to let her turn.
Violet reloads her gun, replacing the two shells well spent, and steps out onto her porch. The screen door swings shut behind her, creaking on its hinges. She needs to remember to oil them up soon.
The man in the trap screams at her, yelling about how she’s a fucking bitch and that he’s going to kill her. Violet highly doubts that, considering how hard he’s struggling to find the pistol that his pack member held. It’s lying in the dirt, almost near a bush, but he’s too busy trying to look under the corpse of the woman who held it. When Violet shoots him, his hands are covered with blood and he’s red-faced, chest heaving with panic and pain.
The bullet hits the hollow of his throat and his neck opens up in a flash of red. He slumps over, and Violet belatedly thinks she could have kept him alive and done a little questioning. It’s no matter. She turns her gun on the last one standing.
The woman, who had already been staring in shock, impossibly looks even more frightened. She had enough time to run, though she wouldn’t have been able to get very far tied up and trussed like a pack mule. Her scent is sour with fear, curdled and acrid. Somewhere underneath the fear, there’s the smell of alpha– more pleasant than the other one, a pinch of cinnamon that Violet’s instincts find palatable.
If it weren’t for the scar, Violet would kill her without hesitation, but the scar gets her thinking. The cuffs are one thing, the scar another.
Across the bridge of the alpha’s strong nose and the tops of both cheeks, runs a dark line. The cut was deep enough that the scar left behind is slightly raised. More than anything, it’s immediately noticeable– as it was meant to be.
Violet doesn’t lower the shotgun, but she does pause to reassess the situation. This woman did help her in some capacity, after all. Certainly she didn’t work against her, and Violet can appreciate that.
“Well, well, well,” Violet drawls. “Didn’t think I’d be catching a bunch of nosy fucking trespassers this fine morning. And a traitor, too.”
The alpha winces.
“Are you going to beg?”
“Do you…” The woman licks her lips nervously, staring up at Violet with so much fear in her eyes that Violet’s blood runs hot. “Do you w-want me to?”
“Guess not. You’ll do whatever I want so long as I got this gun pointed at you and you want to live. Isn’t that right?”
A quick nod.
Violet considers her options, flicks the safety on, and rolls her shoulders. The alpha doesn’t move, and Violet asks her, “Well, do you want to live?”
Another nod.
“Then stay there while I think. If you move, I’m going to kill you.”
Violet figures she’s sufficiently proved she will without having to verbalize the threat, but she still gets a kick out of the way the alpha’s scent spikes with fear at the words. It’s nice to be recognized as the threat she is. All too often people don’t realize until they’re dying, if they ever get a chance to comprehend what’s happened at all.
Violet searches the carnage for whatever useful things she might find. The pistol, an ax, a hunting knife, backpacks to go through. As she steps over the bodies, wetting the hem of her skirt with blood, the alpha watches her warily from her spot hunched in the dirt.
“You’re the one that sent those dead ones after us. In town,” the woman says.
Violet inclines her head. “And none of you took the hint.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice in that,” the woman dryly replies, and Violet’s lips quirk into a smile.
“I suppose you didn’t. Were they hunting you?”
“Yes. I– well, you know why.”
“You’re a traitor. A deserter, on top of that. I’m sure you had a good reason to betray your beloved pack?”
The alpha scoffs and then winces, eyeing the shotgun in Violet’s slender hands. Her jaw tenses. “You wouldn’t want to be kept, either, ma’am.”
That’s true enough. Violet looks at the alpha’s scar where someone slashed a blade across her nose ever so deliberately. It must have been a shock when her pack turned on her– or maybe not. Maybe it took time to leave, and it seems that didn’t work out too well for her.
Forever ago it feels like, Violet’s ex-boyfriend insisted upon joining a group of survivors they met on the road who were headed to a haven out west. She hadn’t liked being the only omega or the only woman, but she trusted her boyfriend’s judgment up until one sleepless night.
They were sleeping outside, and the campfire was roaring. Violet was snug in her bedroll, facing the woods, and they thought she was asleep. She hadn’t intended on eavesdropping, but once she realized what they were talking about, she had no choice but to listen.
The haven they were headed to was evidently a place that claimed to restore the old ways, the way things were always meant to be. The apocalypse, they said, was a result of modern people upsetting the natural order. At this place, they said, they’d make that unruly omega of his into a proper one.
Violet hadn’t been offended by her boyfriend not defending her, at least not at first. The other alphas could get violent if he disagreed, that she knew. But then they started joking about her heat, saying that he better let them all have a turn when she has it, and he laughed like it was funny, like it was an appropriate thing to joke about.
In the morning, she expressed her concerns about the other survivors and her uneasiness around them, and he had brushed her off. Violet wasn’t going to take any chances, so when the group got into some trouble, and the dead started swarming, she watched. They had screamed for her to help them goddamnit, but she had only watched.
Her boyfriend suspected she wasn’t telling the complete truth because he knew her, even if she didn’t know him like she thought he did. Things were fine for a little while anyway, until they started arguing about her not being a proper omega. Pre-apocalypse, he never would have dared to say the things he said to her then, she’s sure of it.
“You’re too incompetent to be so sexist,” she told him, and it was true. She was the one who rationed the food, who did research on what plants were edible and which were poisonous, the one who read manuals on how to change car batteries and how to treat wounds.
He slapped her, which she hadn’t expected him to do. He wasn’t that kind of alpha, except apparently he was. When she slapped him back, he tried to rape her, so she stabbed him, and when he came at her, stabbed him again. And again and again and again until he was a mangled piece of meat on the ground.
No one would be there to help her if she got into trouble, not in this new world. She had to look out for herself. She wasn’t going to be kept.
“If I kill you, is anyone going to miss you?” Violet questions.
“No,” the alpha says at once. Her eyes flick to her dead former packmates, and she grimaces. “My pack… they won’t want to spend more resources looking for me, but for them…”
Yeah, Violet expected an answer along those lines. Not what she’d like to hear, but it’s the truth. Violet knows well enough how vengeful people can get when there’s nothing or no one in their way to stop them. If people come looking for their missing pack members, the safest option would be to leave.
Violet senses the change coming now. She hadn’t before when she found the dead zombies in town, but now she knows it was a sign. Whether she killed these people or let them go is irrelevant. Either way, a pack was scouting this area and there is a chance they’ll send someone back up here.
Fuck. It had been getting quiet around here and she guesses this is what she gets for daring to get a little too comfortable in her monotony.
Making friends with a traitor isn’t smart on paper, but Violet could end up with bigger problems if she doesn’t know what might be coming in the future. Until she gathers more information, killing this alpha could prove to be a hasty decision. The alpha on her own could be a problem, but as long as Violet keeps the upper hand, she can handle it– at least until she’s certain she’s learned all there is to know about this pack of hers.
Violet steps over to the alpha, who flinches back. She doesn’t meet Violet’s eyes, so Violet tips her chin with the gun until she does. Looking into the warm brown eyes of this alpha has Violet’s instincts making a pleased chirp in the back of her mind.
Violet trusts her instincts, so she asks, “Are you going to give me trouble?”
The answer comes quickly. “No, ma’am.”
“Which one of them had the keys to those cuffs?”
The woman points out the other alpha, which, of course. Violet returns to his corpse and fishes around in his pockets until she finds the key. Before unlocking the alpha, Violet checks her for weapons but predictably finds none.
Violet has the alpha stand, and she slides the key into the metal cuffs with a barely audible clink. The cuffs release, and the alpha thanks her. She sounds sincere about it, too, so sincere that Violet’s instincts purr at the touch of reverence.
“I’m lucky,” she says.
“Sure are.”
“No, um. I–” the alpha stutters out. “I mean my name. It’s Lucky.”
“Lucky,” Violet echoes, and her instincts certainly like the sound of that. This alpha’s cinnamon scent, too, is pleasant, and would be more so once she washed the grime off of her. Hm.
“W-what’s your name?”
“Violet,” says Violet. “Now make yourself useful and help me move these bodies.”
Relocating the corpses before they reanimate is a task in efficiency, but Lucky proves to be good at following directions. It’s been a while since Violet’s had guard dogs outside her property, so she finds some trees to tie the corpses to, securing the knots while Lucky watches closely.
“You’re good at that,” Lucky says, and Violet remains outwardly unaffected, though she likes that her skills have been properly acknowledged.
“You can bathe,” Violet informs Lucky as they walk back to the house, “but you have to be quick about it. Two buckets of water, and don’t waste any.”
Violet shows her how to get water from the well before going inside to see what clothes she has for Lucky to change into. Lucky running away isn’t of much concern to her since she doubts the woman would come back with anyone, but leaving her out of her sight makes her skin crawl.
Still, apocalypse or not, one can’t just expect trust if no trust is given in return. Violet has no issue being ruthless when needs must, but she knows there are times when it’s more fruitful to fall back on old proprieties. If she wants information, she better play nice.
And, well, her instincts like this alpha. It’s tempting to indulge, dangerous as it might be.
Conflict always leaves her with more energy than she knows what to do with. Work is easy to find living in a world like this, so keeping herself occupied has never been an issue. Working when she has a stranger in her territory is unappealing. It’s better to keep Lucky close.
Violet has a stash of clothes she uses for spare fabric from when she’d tried sewing her own wardrobe, so she has a few things that should fit Lucky, who isn’t as large as some alphas, but still broader and taller than Violet. After selecting clothes for Lucky, she picks out a fresh dress for herself, a blue one with a floral pattern this time.
Lucky is waiting for her by the buckets when Violet returns with clothes, washcloths, and soap. Violet sets it all down with a huff and shrugs her shotgun off her shoulder and props it up on a nearby tree. Lucky watches her as she takes off her jacket and hangs it over a branch but turns beet red and averts her eyes when Violet pulls off her dress.
“W-what are you doing? I- I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Lucky stammers and turns away.
Violet laughs. “We’re bathing. I got blood on me. And so did you.”
“I don’t want to be impolite, ma’am,” Lucky says.
Scoffing, Violet says, “Bodies are bodies. Unless you can’t handle that. You do anything I don’t like, and you know what happens.”
Hesitatingly, Lucky strips down, revealing a toned stomach, thick thighs, and small breasts. Violet watches her and Lucky catches her, blushing when she looks over. Other than that one glance, she minds her own business as she lathers a washcloth up with soap and scrubs herself down.
Lucky is passing the test so far, so Violet follows suit, brisky washing off any stray flecks of blood off her chest and face. She wipes herself off, the cold water a nice shock to her system that helps cool her off from the adrenaline rush earlier. It could have gone worse, but it didn’t, and she survived.
“What did you do to get yourself branded like that?” Violet asks.
Lucky doesn’t look over, just runs the washcloth over her shoulders. She has some muscle. Whatever pack she came from must have enough food to feed everyone– either that, or the food distribution system plays favorites.
“I…” Lucky shakes her head. “You’re asking that right now? While we’re…?”
“What does that matter? You’re going to tell me eventually.”
Lucky huffs a laugh, probably more out of nerves if her scent is any indication. There’s a sour note that indicates some amount of anxiety, which is warranted. But Violet was right– she does smell better when she’s not as filthy. Much better.
“I didn’t like the way they were treating my sister,” Lucky says quietly. “Or any of the other Os or even the Bs. Anyone who wasn’t on top ate shit, but the only one I could protect was my sister.”
“Until you couldn’t anymore,” Violet concludes.
“She married this alpha called Travis. An alphahole type, you know the ones. A lot of them were like that there and they didn’t like me much because they pretty much thought I was just a second rate alpha. Not a proper one.”
“I see.”
“But anyway, my sister, Joy. She married Travis. Said they were madly in love, and maybe she believed that. I don’t know. But I think the pack leader sold her to him, but I could never prove it and she would never admit it. Maybe she was scared. She started getting distant and then the bruises started showing up. And it got bad. Real bad.”
Violet shrugs on her clean dress and jacket. Lucky scrubs at her body so hard she leaves red marks behind, her voice intensifying as she speaks.
“It got so bad we were going to leave, but no one could leave without permission from the pack leader. It’s this walled off city kind of thing. You have to check in and check out. There’s always guards. It feels like you’re free until your interests don’t align with the pack’s and then suddenly you realize you’re trapped. I don’t think it was so bad at the beginning when this all started, but maybe it was, and we were too shocked to realize.”
“So you tried to leave.”
“Yeah, yeah, we did.” Lucky laughs then, and it’s the kind of exhausted, manic laugh that one gets when the world starts becoming so absurd you wonder what the hell is even happening anymore. “We planned it for weeks. We wanted to tell some others but were too afraid of getting caught. Travis found out, though. I never found out exactly how, but he killed her. The pack leader said she and Travis snuck out and that she got bit, but I know that wasn’t true. She never left the walls. Not once.”
Violet moves her bucket of soapy, pink water over to Lucky so she can use the excess to wash her hair. Lucky looks at her then, and her eyes are bright like an animal’s in the dark.
“I killed him. Travis. It felt fair. That’s how I got this.” Lucky gestures to her face. “I got off relatively easy. They said I went mad with grief, and I was on lockdown for months doing manual labor. I left on my own as soon as I could, but they tracked me down. God knows why they cared so much about losing one person, but I think it was more the principle of the thing.”
“I had a boyfriend once,” Violet says. “He and this group we found were headed to a pack like that. I found out about it before we got there, so I killed all of them.”
Lucky swallows hard and she looks away. Her scent spikes, alpha musk hanging thick in the air.
Violet smiles. “I’m going to get some food fixed up. Finish up out here and I’ll be in the kitchen. I don’t know about you, but I get hungry after a fight.”
She grabs her shotgun and returns to the house so she can rummage through her cabinets in search of a decent meal to serve a guest. She doesn’t need to impress her, but if she’s going to be friendly, she might as well take the opportunity to treat herself, too.
As she heats up the food, she mulls over what Lucky told her. It would be a lot to make up on the spot, but regardless, Violet believes her. Violet doesn’t need to be getting soft on someone since everyone has their own trauma these days, but it really has been months since she’s had anyone to talk to.
Being alone may be safer, but it makes it easy to fall into mundane routines. When that beta couple lived near her, she’d liked having their company every once and a while, though she was paranoid about their presence for weeks at first. It’s really too bad they never took her up on her offer of a threesome.
Violet’s finishing making dinner by the time Lucky knocks on the door. She calls for her guest to come in, but not without making sure her new pistol is in hand. It’s better to be prepared than caught unaware. To Lucky’s credit, she doesn’t flinch at the gun as she rounds the corner to the kitchen.
“You have a gas stove,” she says as Violet lowers the gun.
“I do,” Violet says proudly and sets the gun on the counter. She finishes divvying up the portions of mac and cheese, canned chicken, and green beans, instructing Lucky to sit at the table.
Lucky, face scrubbed to baby freshness, stumbles over to the table with long lanky legs and the grace of a fawn. She stares wide-eyed as Violet sets the plate of warm food before her. Dumbly, she says, “Thank you. For the food and bath. This is very kind of you.”
Violet can be kind when it suits her. These days, she’s not often in the mood for it. But she can be, and right now, her instincts are smugly satisfied.
She grabs a bottle of wine and pours out two glasses. She sits across from Lucky and lights herself a cigarette. She figures she’s earned another one after that show she put on earlier.
“So, this old pack of yours,” Violet starts, taking a drag from her cigarette. It pairs well with the wine, not so much with the boxed mac and cheese. “Are they raiders?”
“Not typically, no,” Lucky answers, shoving a forkful of food into her mouth. Violet watches her chew and swallow, eyes lingering on the long line of her neck. “I don’t mean any disrespect when I say this, ma’am, but a lone omega would be tempting for them.”
“Tempting,” Violet muses, blowing out smoke. “I figured as much. Do you think they will give me trouble?”
Lucky is quiet for a long moment, considering. Violet wonders whether she isn’t sure of the answer or is trying to form an answer that will keep her on Violet’s good side. “I’m not sure. They don’t usually scout this far north, so that’s why I headed this way, but they were tracking me, and they caught up.”
“Will they come looking for those guys I shot?”
“Probably, but there’s a lot of area to cover. Their walkie talkies went out of range. We’re at least a hundred miles out from their home base. There’s no telling whether they’ll send folks out here or not. They’ll know the name of the last city they were able to check in at, but beyond that, there’s no telling whether they’ll make it all the way up here.”
“I should probably get rid of their bodies,” Violet muses. “Just in case.”
“At any rate, it will be a while until they come looking, if they can even find you. You’re well hidden.”
Violet suspected as much, but it’s good to hear confirmation. That this alpha would speak so plainly to her is comforting and gives her confidence that she’s telling the truth as far as she knows. She might be withholding some information, but she has no motivation to if she’s well and truly broken pack bonds.
“Thank you again for dinner, ma’am,” Lucky says after they’ve both finished eating. Though the meal was mostly eaten in silence, Violet knew they were both sizing each other up and several times she caught Lucky staring. Lucky always looked away as soon as Violet’s met hers, behavior expected more from a traditional omega than an alpha.
Violet shrugs. “It’s the polite thing to do if I’m not going to kill you.” Lucky’s face turns red and Violet tries not to laugh. She adds, “What are your plans now that you’re free?”
“Free,” Lucky echoes. “I suppose I am, thanks to you. I’m glad you weren’t more trigger happy.”
Lucky adds another hasty ma’am, and Violet can’t contain her laughter. The glass of wine has given her more of a sense of humor than she normally possesses or perhaps it’s the scent of alpha lingering in her home– not overpowering, but actually pleasant. She wonders if lady alphas are easier to push around than men or if it’s just Lucky that’s so easy to acquiesce to Violet’s will.
Well, a few threats and the evidence to carry them out certainly helps, but most alphas Violet’s met after the apocalypse seemed to have lost their oh-so praised rationality. Perhaps this one has kept her wits about her, and she recognizes when to back down.
“So,” Violet drawls. “What are you going to do, Lucky? Surely you had plans?”
Lucky’s scent betrays her anxiety, and the crease between her eyebrows deepens. “I had plans, yes. I suspect they were much the same as yours. Go to the mountains and live a quiet life alone.”
“And is that still the plan?”
Lucky shoots her a nervous glance, licking her lips, a flash of pink that sets off Violet’s curiosity. It’s a rare thing to so quickly feel that someone isn’t a threat, and she doesn’t think Lucky is– at least not to her, not after the favors she’s done her.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your territory, ma’am,” Lucky says. “I’ll be on my way if it pleases you. I don’t want to be any more trouble for you.”
Violet would be lying if she said those words weren’t music to her ears. Part of her is skeptical of her preening instincts since Lucky could always be buttering her up, but her inner omega is influential, and it insists on claiming a mate.
Leftover energy thrums through her like a live wire, and Violet bounces her knee under the table. Desire coils low in her belly and she considers lighting another cigarette. The leftover smell of tobacco is heady in her nose, mixing with the warmth of cinnamon spice.
“You can stick around for a bit before you move on,” Violet suggests. “I know a few spots we can check for supplies. I’ll even let you keep half.”
Lucky’s eyebrows jump. “You would be comfortable with that?”
Violet shrugs a slender shoulder. “As long as you behave. I’m feeling generous today.”
“Thank you. I’ll heed your rules, whatever they are. I truly appreciate your hospitality, ma’am.”
Age-old social conventions come to mind, and Violet almost insists Lucky call her Vi, but she rather likes ma’am. Her ex-boyfriend never showed her that kind of respect, and really that’s his loss. He’d still be alive if he had.
“You can stay in the house next door,” Violet tells her. “Come by in the morning and I’ll fix breakfast. Then we’ll see about a plan.”
With Lucky next door, Violet can lock up her own house and sleep without the fear of a stranger in the other room. It’s less likely anything can be stolen or that she’ll be killed in her sleep if Lucky would have to break in to do so. She’s taking a chance here, but she doesn’t want to push it. Violet would kill someone for supplies, so she has to assume that Lucky would, too.
Violet writes in her journal until the sun goes down and then navigates in the dark to her bedroom. Writing by candlelight is really only so romantic, and it’s not worth the headache tonight.
She washes her face in the sink, which she uses as a basin since she doesn’t have running water. She brushes her hair and braids it, then slides into bed after changing into her favorite satin nightgown.
Though she’s gone through her usual routine, sleep is hard to come by. In the house over, there’s a stranger– one she let live and stick around. She could have killed her, but she made the choice not to, so she will live with that choice until it proves to be a bad one.
Thinking of Lucky and her spicy, musky scent, Violet rolls onto her back and slides a hand down her body. Her hand smooths along soft fabric and soft thighs, slipping up her skirt and between her legs. Her fingers meet a thatch of coarse curls, and she slides past them, lower to her already wet cunt.
She killed three people today. Their bodies burst apart with the force of shotgun shells, leaving her covered in a spray of blood. They’d have turned hours ago, leashed to the trees outside her property. It’s no less than they deserve. She warned them, but they didn’t listen.
Two fingers on her clit, Violet makes a slow circle, humming out a moan. She bucks her hips, already eager for more friction, faster and harder. She sets a quick pace, fingers flashing back and forth in rough flicks.
She won and she’s alive. The trespassers are dead, except for the one she granted mercy. The others died, their guts spilling out onto the forest floor in a flood of crimson.
She’s still alive to feel the wetness drip down her skin, the burst of hot pleasure building concentrated between her thighs and the building static in her body. She’s stronger, smarter, and she’s alive.
Moaning, Violet rubs her clit harder, gathering slick on her fingertips to make for an easy slide. Her cunt pulses around nothing, and she imagines being filled and the satisfaction of having something to lock down on.
She’s not due for another heat, but desire leaves her flushed with warmth, hot all over, as needy as if she had the fever. It’s been ages since she’s had anyone around to fuck, and her instincts make sure to remind her of that. She could use a good, hard fuck to relieve the tension, and this certainly isn’t enough to satisfy the craving.
Violet comes with a loud cry, jerking against her hand, keeping up her rapid-fire movements until she grows sensitive and tired. Sweat collects in the small of her back and she tosses the covers off of herself to feel the cool night air against her skin.
As she brings her slippery fingers to her mouth and licks them clean, she basks in the afterglow. Her instincts hunger, pacing around in the back of her mind like a caged panther. She hadn’t realized she’d been missing some excitement around here.
Pre-apocalypse, Violet wouldn’t have considered herself particularly bloodthirsty, but she supposes times have changed. Omegas are sweet when they’re well trained, but people forget they used to hunt alphas, too, back in the old days.
Violet can taste herself in the air, sugar coating her tongue as she licks her lips. She stretches out languidly, willing herself to finally fall into sleep. But she doesn’t feel tired at all– in fact, she feels very alive.
Lucky knocks on her door bright and early, the sky still a watercolor gradient of pink and orange mixing with light blue, birds singing in the trees.
Violet got in the habit of waking with the sun, so she’s already done washing her face and combing her hair when she hears the knock. Still, she doesn’t rush, taking her time as she picks out a flattering dress that’s cinched at the waist. She fetches her shotgun before getting the door.
Lucky found a new shirt and a flannel to wear over top, though she kept the jeans Violet gave her. Her tense expression turns pensive as Violet unlocks the screen door, and Violet doesn’t miss the way her eyes flick over her body.
“Sleep well?” Violet asks.
“I can’t say I got much sleep,” Lucky hesitantly replies, following Violet inside the house.
“Me neither. I was thinking so much it kept me up all night.”
“About yesterday?”
“About you, mostly.” Violet smiles and Lucky eyes her with caution. She likes that Lucky sees her as she is. The beta couple never looked at her like that. “Were you thinking about me, Lucky?”
“I was thinking about what you did,” Lucky answers with the same caution in her voice as on her face.
“Did it scare you?”
Violet gestures for Lucky to sit at the table, and Lucky obeys without complaint. Her scent remains calm, unafraid, though she looks anxious as she watches Violet rummage in the cupboards for ingredients.
“Well?” Violet prompts.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” Lucky says, some amount of frustration leaking into her tone. “I could see it in your eyes that you were thinking about it even when we ate dinner. You would kill me without a second thought.”
“That’s not true,” Violet says. “I’d have a reason. And I would think about it first.”
“But you wouldn’t care if you did. You wouldn’t feel guilty.”
“Not really. Did you feel guilty for killing Travis?”
“No,” Lucky says shortly. “But that’s not the same thing.”
Violet smiles. “I suppose it’s not, but we’re both better off now that they’re dead. So it doesn’t matter. How do flour tortillas and baked beans sound for breakfast? If you want to go pick dandelion leaves, we can have salad, too.”
“That sounds good. Thank you,” Lucky says, but it’s plain to see how conflicted she is. Violet guesses she’d been living in her little gated community since the start of the outbreak if she’s so perturbed by Violet’s nonchalance. It’s a different world outside of Quarantine Zones and community packs. Everyone you meet plays by their own rules, and Lucky has got to learn that or she’ll never be able to survive out here.
Violet gets to cooking, mixing together the ingredients for tortillas and pouring out the batter onto the pan. She heats up the beans in a separate pot, humming to herself.
“Do you like coffee or tea?” Violet asks.
“Coffee. You have some?” The unmistakable note of excitement in Lucky’s voice makes Violet smile. Coffee is usually an easy way to win people over.
“It’s instant,” Violet tells her. “And I have sugar to put in it.”
Lucky smiles, and Violet decides she has a nice smile. Her instincts like it at any rate.
As Violet fixes up breakfast, she’s hyper aware of Lucky’s eyes on her. It makes her paranoid at first, but she leans into it, forcing herself to relax under the attentiveness. Lucky’s gaze lingers on her face and the slender line of her body, catching on the curve of her waist.
Violet makes them both coffee and it’s just as they’re almost done with their food that Lucky asks, “Last night, were you thinking about killing me? Or that I would kill you?”
“No,” Violet says, though that isn’t strictly true. “I was thinking about fucking you.”
Blood rushes to Lucky’s face, turning her cheeks and ears a tempting shade of crimson. Violet leans back in her chair, tilting her chin to see the way Lucky immediately fixates on her throat.
“You almost killed me yesterday,” Lucky splutters, reaching for her coffee, and Violet’s sure she burns her tongue.
“And?”
Lucky makes an unintelligible noise and Violet laughs outright. Perhaps yesterday this alpha was too afraid to stand on any moral high ground, but she’s slept off her initial fear. Very alpha of her.
Violet lifts her foot under the table and nudges Lucky’s leg. Lucky’s head snaps up and she stares with wide eyes, her face still as red as a tomato.
“You’re not joking,” she says.
“I’m not.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re the crazy one, talking to me like that.”
Lucky’s posture immediately becomes rigid, and trepidation leaks into her scent. “Sorry, ma’am. I don’t mean any disrespect.”
Violet shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. This is actually quite fun, like a game that she can win. Flirting always felt like that all those years ago. It’s too bad she never won anything good, but so much has changed since then.
“If you’re not interested, say so. I’m not some knothead alpha who’s going to force you.”
Lucky taps on the side of her coffee mug as she thinks, and Violet eyes the side of her throat. Lucky’s eyes meet hers and Violet smiles, showing her teeth. The scent of alpha musk in the air spikes, cinnamon spice a treat for the senses.
“Your instincts like me, don’t they?” Violet says knowingly.
Lucky doesn’t say anything to that. Violet runs her foot along Lucky’s calf, slow and teasing. Lucky watches her face, and Violet leans forward so Lucky can look down the front of her dress. Lucky’s eyes flick down and back up to her face.
“You don’t do anything in half measures, do you?”
“The world’s ended. Things aren’t going back to the way they were in our lifetime, if they ever will. I do what I want when I want.”
“People usually say that to justify cruelty.”
“You’re lucky all I want is to ride an alpha cock. Think about it– when’s the next time you’re going to be able to fuck an omega cunt once you move on?”
“And I’m guessing you’re going to say that most people aren’t as hospitable as you are, ma’am?”
“That’s because they aren’t.”
Lucky’s eyes flick down to Violet’s breasts, lingering on her nipples, hard underneath the thin fabric of her dress. Violet’s scent sweetens, which makes Lucky turn red again, her scent spiking with a note of arousal.
“You don’t even know that I’m into women,” Lucky says.
“So? I’ve never fucked a woman but that doesn’t mean I can’t start now.”
Lucky huffs a laugh at that. Her fingers tap rhythmically on the side of her mug. Finally, she says, “All right.”
Violet pounces, giving Lucky a scant second to pull back before their lips crash together, Violet’s hands finding a firm hold on Lucky’s flannel. The edge of the table presses into Violet’s stomach, and Lucky gasps into her mouth.
Lucky’s scent spikes with arousal, the scent calling Violet closer, her instincts responding with a rush of warmth through her core. Violet kisses Lucky hard, and Lucky kisses her back with just as much fervor.
Panting, Violet breaks the kiss and stands, rounding the table to yank Lucky up by the collar of her shirt with as much strength as she can muster. Lucky stumbles to her feet, that tempting blush on her cheeks, and Violet shoves her against the wall.
Lucky winces, and Violet runs her palm down Lucky’s chest, fingernails scratching against the fabric of her t-shirt. Violet stands on her tiptoes, mouth finding Lucky’s as if pulled along by a magnet. She licks into her mouth, moaning as she presses her body up against hers, feeling Lucky’s cock harden between them.
Lucky gasps, chest heaving underneath Violet’s palm. Violet kisses her and kisses her some more, pulling back only to nip at her bottom lip. She tastes pleasantly of coffee and spit. Fuck, Violet’s missed kissing-- the warmth of it, the closeness, the wandering hands and breathless gasps.
Tentatively, Lucky’s hands settle on Violet’s waist, and Violet leans into her, chasing the touch like a woman starved. She nips at Lucky’s jaw, drawing her mouth down her neck, tongue flashing out to lap at the scent glands underneath her jaw. Lucky moans, arching against her, and Violet balls her fist up in Lucky’s shirt.
“Violet,” Lucky moans, and Violet laughs against her spit-slick skin.
“Oh, so now it’s Violet. What happened to ma’am?” she purrs, half teasing, half dead serious. Her teeth press against the length of Lucky’s neck, firm on the muscle, and Violet fights the urge to bite down.
“Ma’am,” Lucky corrects. “Sorry.”
“You like this, is that right?” Violet asks, palming Lucky’s cock through her jeans, eliciting a sharp gasp.
“I– I–” Lucky stutters as Violet drags a teasing finger along the shape of her, moving up to toy with the button on her pants.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you, Lucky?” she asks. “And you wanted to fuck me yesterday, too.”
“I’m losing my mind,” Lucky says. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Enjoy it. Live a little. I could have killed you yesterday, but I didn’t. Think about that.”
Violet kisses her, their lips slotting together, movements starting out languid, evolving into desperation. Lucky’s grip tightens on her hips, and Violet pops open the button on her jeans. She palms her through her underwear, and Lucky whines softly.
A purr starts up in Violet’s chest then, and Violet can’t honestly remember the last time she’s purred outside of sleep. It’s startling to feel that bubbly sensation– she half thought she’d never purr again, at least not out of joy or excitement or whatever this is.
Testing the waters, Violet chirps and Lucky chuffs back at her, the sound a low rumble in the alpha’s throat. Violet licks her neck, tongue dipping down to the hollow of her throat and Lucky chuffs again.
“I knew your instincts liked me,” Violet says, grazing her teeth against Lucky’s neck.
“You saved me,” Lucky gasps out.
Violet traces the scar running along Lucky’s nose and over her cheeks. Lucky tenses but doesn’t pull away. “Probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for this.”
Lucky’s expression sours and Violet laughs and says, “It’s not personal.”
She kisses Lucky again, their lips pressing together hard, molding together. Lucky kisses her back feverishly, her hands bunching up in the fabric of Violet’s skirt. Violet’s hands wander back down Lucky’s chest and over her stomach, dipping into her jeans.
The scent of Lucky’s arousal is intoxicating, and Violet shamelessly buries her nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. Lucky moans softly, leaning down to tentatively nuzzle the top of Violet’s head. Violet raises to her tiptoes, pulling Lucky down to graze their cheeks together, scents mingling in a shockingly intimate display.
Lucky chuffs and Violet chirps back at her. Violet’s entire being feels as if it’s on vibrate, and she can’t tell if it’s because she’s purring or if she’s buzzing from the energy in the room. Her fingers and toes tingle, and adrenaline makes her heart pound as sure as it did the day before.
Violet drops to her knees and Lucky mutters, “Oh, fuck.”
Smirking, Violet tugs Lucky’s underwear down, her hard cock popping out. Violet takes her in hand, fingers teasing her balls before moving to wrap around her forming knot. Lucky moans loudly, desperately, and Violet nuzzles her, tongue flicking out to taste the tip of her.
Warm, salty precome rushes over her tongue and Violet’s clit throbs. She licks the head of Lucky’s cock again, chasing the taste, and kitten licks across the length of her, moaning. She’s so fucking ready for this she feels near violent with the urge as she takes Lucky into her mouth, gagging as her cock hits the back of her throat.
“Oh God,” Lucky moans. “Holy fuck. Oh, fuck–”
Violet pulls back, annoyed at herself for immediately triggering her gag reflex, but it has been over a year. Or maybe it’s been two, but whatever the case, it’s been too damn long.
Violet goes back in, bobbing her head, a purr building in her throat. Lucky thrusts into her mouth, and Violet digs her nails into Lucky’s hips, pressing them back against the wall. Lucky moans and squirms in her grasp as Violet takes her farther down, squeezing her knot hard in one hand.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Ma’am, p-please. I can’t. I’m gonna– please, if you keep going I can’t–”
Violet ignores her, squeezing her knot harder until Lucky whines, and the sound makes Violet’s instincts go wild, tingling in the back of her head as she pulls back to lick everywhere she can reach. She licks at Lucky’s balls and over the extra sensitive skin of her knot, down over her inner thighs and back up again.
Lucky’s cries only intensify, pleading, and Violet wraps her lips around the head of her cock, sucking, tongue dipping into her slit. Lucky whines again, hips jerking, and Violet sucks her down again, up and down.
Lucky’s fingers find their way into Violet’s hair and Violet growls, digging her nails into Lucky’s hips as hard as Lucky is grabbing her hair. Lucky moans, the sound more like a breathy whine as she comes. Violet whines herself then, choking a little as she tries to swallow it all down.
“Fuck,” Lucky says, over and over like it’s the only thing she can say anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Violet squeezes her knot, popping off her cock to lick her clean, instincts purring in the back of her mind. She continues licking at her, and Lucky’s soft sounds rise to a fevered whine, and she tugs on Violet’s hair.
“Please. Please, Violet– ma’am. It’s too much. Please.”
Violet hisses at the interruption, but rises to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her thighs, wet with her slick, slide against one another. She licks her swollen lips, watching as Lucky wraps a hand around her knot, soothing the ache with a squeeze.
“You came fast,” she says.
Embarrassment creeps into Lucky’s scent, mixing with the potent arousal. “It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. As long as you can get it up again. We’re not finished yet.”
Lucky smiles, just a bit, and isn’t that cute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Violet hooks her finger into the belt loop on Lucky’s jeans, pulling her along toward the bedroom. Leaving the shotgun behind makes Violet uneasy, but she’s comforted by the knowledge of her pistol in the drawer of her nightstand and the knife under her bed. And there’s the baseball bat by the door, too.
Hands down her pants and lips on hers, Violet walks Lucky back into the room and up until her knees hit the bed and buckle. Lucky falls onto the mattress and Violet runs her hands over her chest, tugging her flannel off her shoulders and tossing it aside. Lucky’s hard biceps feel fantastic under Violet’s hands, and she kisses Lucky hungrily as she memorizes the feel of her skin.
Lucky whines into her mouth, and Violet nips at her lower lip, hard enough to make her inhale sharply. Violet hikes up her dress, sliding it off of herself and leaving her bare. She runs her hands over her rib cage and breasts, pausing to pluck at her nipples.
She grabs Lucky by the nape of the neck the way an alpha would typically handle an omega, urging her forward toward her breasts. Lucky takes the instruction well, first nuzzling her breasts before taking turns licking and sucking at each pebbled nipple. Violet moans, carding her fingers through Lucky’s hair.
Lucky’s hands slide up over her hips and to the dip of her waist, holding her close. Violet scratches the top of Lucky’s head, earning a pleased chuff, and Violet decides it’s about time she gets Lucky’s eager tongue somewhere else.
“Lay back,” she orders.
Lucky obeys without hesitation, and Violet crawls on top of her, pulling up Lucky’s shirt so she can lick up her stomach. Lucky arches underneath her, and Violet grinds her cunt against her softened cock.
Whining, Lucky’s hips buck, pulling away, but Violet presses down. Lucky’s cock slides through her slippery folds, and Violet moans, reaching a hand down to touch her clit.
Lucky watches her attentively, eyes roaming across Violet’s body. Grinning, Violet arches her back and pushes her breasts forward, rubbing her clit faster.
Sunlight suits Lucky well. The light from the windows gives her a happy glow, matching the bright citrus notes in her scent. It’s a good smell, the happiness, one Violet hasn’t smelled on anyone else for ages. It’s attractive, and it sets a pit of longing in Violet’s chest.
She leans forward to rub her face against Lucky’s neck, and Lucky bares her throat without hesitation. Violet nips at her jaw and noses at the junction between her neck and shoulder.
“You smell so fucking good,” she breathes, and Lucky moans out, “So do you.”
Violet can smell her own sweetness in the air, saccharine sugar, tangy with arousal. She grinds her hips down harder, and Lucky whimpers, hands tightening on Violet’s hips.
Violet gropes at Lucky’s shirt until she lifts up to take it off, and Violet greedily takes in her golden expanse of skin. Lucky’s breasts heave with her rapid breaths, and Violet smooths a palm over her chest. She smiles, meaning for it to be sweet, but Lucky’s breath only hitches, her scent spiking.
Violet rocks her hips, feeling Lucky’s cock begin to harden again, the length of her slipping wetly through her labia. Lucky makes another bitten-off whimpering sound and Violet shushes her with a kiss, hands moving over each other’s bodies in a frantic caress.
The building heat in Violet’s cunt has grown near unbearable, so she relieves some tension by rubbing her clit some more, but it isn’t enough. What her instincts crave is to be filled up, and though she isn’t heat-crazy with the desire, it feels like a need all the same.
She sits back on Lucky’s thighs, leaning back to get a better angle as she presses an exploratory finger into her cunt. One finger goes in with ease, so she adds two and then three to feel the stretch. Moaning, she thrusts her fingers in and out at a quick pace, heat like a flame in her belly.
Lucky whines and Violet grins, panting. “Oh, do you like that? Bet you want some of this pussy, don’t you?”
“Please,” Lucky says, and it’s close enough to a beg that Violet’s core throbs. “Please, sit on my face. Please. I wanna make you come.”
“That right?”
Violet crawls up Lucky’s body until her thighs bracket her face, and Lucky holds onto her hips like a lifeline. They’re both going to have bruises, but that suits Violet just fine. After all, she’s not doing this to forget it anytime soon.
She lowers herself down, and she shivers pleasantly at the feel of Lucky’s breath against her cunt. She grabs Lucky by the hair and Lucky wastes no time burying her face in her cunt. Lucky, typical alpha, goes for her hole first, eager to get a taste of her slick and lap at the place she wants to shove her knot.
Violet lets her, though she keeps a firm grip on her hair as Lucky whines into her pussy, licking into her hole as far as she can reach. Violet bounces on her tongue, enjoying the feel of her mouth, hot and wet and soft against her cunt. She doesn’t think she’s ever had an alpha whine like that while eating her out before, and it makes her blood run so hot she’s damn near set alight. She’d been missing out, but no longer.
Violet clamps her thighs around Lucky’s head, bearing her weight down trying to get more of that delicious stimulation. She moans loudly when Lucky finally goes for her clit, licking her with broad strokes that feel like absolute heaven. Rocking her hips, her pussy glides across Lucky’s tongue and chin, and Lucky makes another muffled sound of pleasure.
Desperate, Violet intensifies her pace, and she just about screams when Lucky sucks on her clit. She’s missed suction toys and no battery-powered vibrator she’s found has come close to the blinding pleasure from one. This, though, it’s better. It’s better than anything she’s ever felt– better than blood.
“More of that!” she yells, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping her upright. “Come on. Come on!”
Lucky moans and sucks hard, and Violet cries out, body curling forward, the intensity of the pleasure bordering on too much. She can’t even think anymore, and her hips move of their own accord, her tongue formulating words she no longer knows the meaning of. When the pleasure crests, zinging from the crown of her head to her toes, she’s as loud as she’s ever been.
Panting and shaking, skin damp with sweat, she finds her footing back in her body. It’s like she was thrown out of orbit, feels like her entire being has just been remade.
Lucky pats her thighs several times and Violet forces herself to roll off of her, flopping onto her back with a groan. Lucky takes in a gasping breath, and both of them lie there, panting for a good couple minutes.
“Water,” Lucky gets out, and Violet drags herself off of the bed. With wobbly legs, she walks to the kitchen to retrieve two bottles of water, both room temperature. What she wouldn’t give for a glass of ice water right now.
Lucky takes the water gratefully, and Violet perches on the edge of the bed, inspecting her glistening thighs with satisfaction. Their scents mingle in a steady stream of pleased and sex and mine.
“Did I choke you?” Violet questions, watching Lucky still trying to catch her breath as she shucks off the last of her clothes.
“I liked it,” Lucky answers, her mouth and chin wet with Violet’s slick, her cock fully erect between her legs. Violet grabs Lucky’s discarded tee and wipes her face, and Lucky nips at her wrist, tongue flashing out to taste her scent gland.
Violet makes a soft trill and nips at Lucky’s jaw in turn, leaving red marks behind. Lucky cups her face and pulls her in to kiss her, and Violet nips hard at her lip, drawing blood. Lucky growls, licking beads of blood from her lower lip, and Violet hisses.
“Please, I want you,” Lucky says, sounding a little bit pathetic. Violet kisses her, and Lucky tries to pull her onto her lap, hands groping at Violet’s ass. She smells just as aroused as she had been while eating Violet out, and Violet wants to eat her alive.
Pulling away, she whispers against Lucky’s mouth, “Yeah? You want to fuck me, is that it? Want to breed my lock, hm?”
“God, please. I want that. I need it,” Lucky begs, hands roaming over Violet’s hips. She nuzzles Violet’s neck, lips pressing just under her jaw.
Violet grabs Lucky by the cock, fisting her forming knot and making her yelp. Laughing, Violet says, “Aw, does it hurt? I can make it better.”
Lucky’s hands scrabble at Violet’s sides, a request for her to move that lacks the forcefulness she’s known from alphas in the past. As much as Violet doesn’t need to be treated gently, it’s that courtesy that has her moving to her hands and knees to present herself.
Instantly, Lucky tries to mount her, hands finding a firm hold on Violet’s hips, which are already blooming pink with forming bruises. The head of Lucky’s cock presses against her entrance, and Violet looks over her shoulder.
“If you bite me, I’ll bite back,” she warns. She’ll do a lot more than that if Lucky gives her a mating bite when she’s locked on her knot, but a warning is at least fair.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucky replies, and God, she already sounds drunk off Violet’s pussy and she hasn’t even gotten properly inside yet. Alphas can be so useless.
“Come on,” she says, and she certainly doesn’t whine. “Fuck me like I know you want to.”
Lucky pushes inside her all at once, and the stretch burns but Violet couldn’t care less about that. Her instincts sing, and it feels so fucking good to be full and so close to another person. Judging by Lucky’s moans that echo Violet’s own pitiful cries, she feels the same way.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” Violet chokes out, the beginnings of her ramble cut short when Lucky begins to move.
Lucky starts at a slow pace which she thankfully abandons quickly in favor of quick, hard thrusts that leave Violet a brainless mess. Sloppy, wet sounds fill the air, and slick coats Violet’s thighs, dripping down onto the sheets.
Lucky ruts into her, making soft grunts and moans, whining each time she clenches down. Violet loses herself in the sensation, and she could die happy. Dangerous as fucking a stranger is, the risk is worth it for one last good, hard fuck– especially when said stranger isn’t a total asshole and is goodlooking to boot.
So, Violet presents like a good omega and Lucky ruts into her, and it’s quite possibly one of the best days of Violet’s life. It’s definitely the highlight of the last couple years, though growing a successful garden last summer is still a close second.
Lucky’s swelling knot pops into her hole once more, and Violet gasps, her orgasm hitting her hard and all at once. Coming only from penetration is something she can usually only do during heats, but apparently being so pent up has some positives. Moaning, Violet feels her lock try to latch onto Lucky’s knot, but the knot isn’t large enough to lock down on, so Lucky fucks her through her orgasm. Stars dance behind her eyes, white-hot pleasure coursing through her body so intense it’s painful.
Whining, Violet shuffles forward, and Lucky growls, forcing her back onto her cock with a roughness that makes Violet’s clit throb with need. Lucky’s teeth meet the nape of her neck, giving her a warning bite that only makes Violet hiss angrily. She squirms in Lucky’s tight grip, both chasing and running from the merciless slide in and out, her pussy oversensitive.
Lucky bites the nape of her neck again, and Violet makes a long, high-pitched whine that she thought omegas only made in porn. It’s obscene, really, to whine like that at a stranger, but that’s the kind of thing Violet of the past would be embarrassed about. Now, she can only feel impressed that Lucky managed to make her sound like that.
Lucky nuzzles her neck, lapping softly at her skin, the thrusts of her hips becoming slower and deeper. Her hands smooth over Violet’s sides in a calming gesture like she’s getting ready to knot her, which would be fine if Violet was done.
“Get off,” she snarls and Lucky startles, hands flying off Violet’s hips, abruptly pulling back.
“I’m so sorry, are you–” she starts but Violet climbs on top of her, shoving her into the mattress with her whole weight.
“Shut up,” Violet says and kisses her hard. Their mouths clash together, teeth scraping soft skin, and she tastes copper. Lucky whimpers and she tilts her chin up so Violet can grab her jaw. Violet bites and sucks at her neck, careful only to keep from drawing blood.
Lucky ruts up between Violet’s thighs, her slick shiny cock dragging through her labia. Violet rocks her hips, grinding her clit against Lucky’s knot, and Lucky shouts. She makes a pleading chuff and leans up to nuzzle Violet’s neck, and when Violet looks at her, even her expression is desperate.
“Please, Violet, ma’am,” she says and Violet hisses for her to wait.
Violet bends to bite at her chest, sucking bruises into her soft breasts and across her collarbones. She slowly jerks herself off against Lucky, who twitches and whines every time her pussy drags across her length. It’s only when Lucky sneaks a hand between them to squeeze her poor, neglected knot that Violet takes pity on her.
As her cock slides inside Violet, Lucky sighs in relief. Violet promptly delivers a harsh bite to the top of one of her breasts, leaving clear imprints of her teeth behind. She sits back, gasping at the sensation this new angle creates, and braces her hands on Lucky’s chest.
Lucky grabs onto her, one hand coming up to hold Violet’s breast, hips bucking. Violet begins to bounce, sparks zinging up her spine each time she comes down, focused only on keeping herself moving. Lucky meets her pace, moaning as Violet scrapes her nails across Lucky’s chest when she loses her grip.
Violet’s thighs strain as she slams herself up and down with single-minded intensity, but she can’t stop now and she can only gasp and moan and claw at Lucky as the pleasure threatens to overtake her. Lucky kneads her breast, her other hand digging into her waist. With a little growl, Violet rides her harder, ignoring the building aches.
Lucky chuffs, grabbing Violet’s hips and helping her up and down when her pace slows. She’s stronger than Violet first thought, lifting Violet up and down as if she weighs next to nothing. It makes Violet feel like a proper omega, being handled with such ease, being fucked so hard and rough she can feel it in her belly.
“Oh, fuck yeah. Yes, oh my God yes! Fuck me harder,” Violet moans, letting Lucky take over, overwhelmed by her musky scent and the lingering sting of her teeth on her neck. She whines, digging her nails into Lucky's chest. “Yeah, just like that. Good. Good fucking girl. Oh my God–”
Lucky growls and pounds into her, her knot catching with each thrust. Violet whimpers, and Lucky shoves into her one more time, her knot slipping inside with a wet pop. Lucky holds her hips, pulling her down, moaning loudly.
The stretch of Lucky’s knot satisfies Violet’s instincts like nothing ever has, and she purrs at the feel of Lucky’s twitching cock filling her up, hot and wet and perfectly full. She moans, pressing her hips down as if she could get Lucky any deeper, and Lucky rubs low on her belly. Her pussy clenches and she whines, unable to form another word.
Lucky knows what she needs, hand sliding from her stomach to card through her bush and find her swollen clit. Violet gasps as Lucky rubs her in quick, sure circles, and she tries to squirm, the pleasure too intense to sit still through. Lucky holds her steady, fingers working over her clit, her knot pressing on the walls of her cunt.
Violet’s orgasm hits her so hard it’s almost violent, and Lucky’s moans take on an overstimulated edge as she locks down on Lucky’s cock. All of Violet’s senses are completely overtaken with a toe-curling, blinding shock to her system, leaving her feeling fuzzy in the head, so loose in the limbs she can barely feel her own body. Panting, she braces herself on Lucky’s chest, and Lucky pets soothingly over her sides, chuffing softly.
“Fuck,” she breathes and Lucky chuffs again. She manages a trill in return, distracted by how tight her pussy feels from being locked together twice over. She’s so fucking full.
Once she’s caught her breath, she glances down at Lucky’s chest and laughs. Lucky only stares up at her with what Violet reads as adoration, which is exactly the response she should get for letting her fuck her pussy so hard she’ll be feeling it for days.
“You look like you got mauled,” Violet says.
“I did,” Lucky replies simply, a slight smile forming on her face. She looks dazed, and maybe Violet should do something about that, but she has limited options when they’re tied together like this.
Tired, Violet bends to lick at the red scratches and gouges she left all over Lucky’s chest, and Lucky chuffs in appreciation. Lucky strokes the back of her head and pets across her shoulders, and now that they’re both cooling off, it feels more like a scentmark than anything heated.
“This doesn’t mean I’m yours,” Violet tells her.
Lucky strokes between Violet’s shoulder blades. Her scent doesn’t sour like Violet thought it might. If anything, she catches a hint of amusement in there amidst all of the sex smell. “I didn’t think it did. I’m not any more yours than you are mine, for the record.”
“Good,” Violet says, and if she’s unsettled at all then that’s something she can dissect at a later time. She has a lot to do now that sex isn’t the most pressing thing on her mind.
First of all, she probably has to go out and kill and dispose of those zombies she tied to the trees, loathe as she is to do it. Then, she has to figure out what to do about the whole Lucky situation now that she’s agreed to let her stay and collect supplies before leaving. After that, she has to check the traps out in the woods and do some foraging. And check on the garden and revise her meal plans. How she’ll be able to focus on all of that with Lucky in her territory, she doesn’t know.
“Are you thinking about killing me again?” Lucky asks.
Violet nips at Lucky’s breast. “No. But if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. I would just kill you.”
“Comforting.”
Violet laughs, and so does Lucky. Lucky massages the back of Violet’s head, and Violet just about melts. She asks, “Are you thinking about killing me?”
“No,” Lucky says. “That would be ungrateful. You saved my life. And gave me clothes, food and shelter.”
“And I fucked you,” Violet adds, clenching down.
Lucky inhales sharply. “That too.”
Violet reaches a hand up and strokes the bridge of Lucky’s nose, tracing the raised scar. “Today we’ll make a plan. And tomorrow we can go out for supplies and see what we can find. Get some condoms, if you’re going to stick around much longer.”
Lucky huffs a laugh. “Yes, ma’am. That sounds good.”
Violet grins. “Good. It was getting boring around here.”
“Well, I’m happy to entertain you.” Lucky tucks Violet’s hair behind her ear and Violet nips at her fingers, catching one and sucking it into her mouth.
Violet starts to plan. She’s going to need a list of supplies to look for which will be good for anyone to have on the road, but only ones which Violet is willing to part with. She’s going to have to look for supplies to make traps with and maybe even take a trip to another city, which could mean fixing up a bike. Oh, and now that she thinks about it, she’s going to have to go out in the woods and see if any of the dead from town wandered up here because of those gunshots yesterday, too.
She needs to be prepared for what might come, and it’s a sour reality to know that killing Lucky isn’t going to solve most of them. If only it could be that simple, but at least if Lucky’s going to stick around, Violet can get some good dick out of it.
“Is there anyone else living out here?” Lucky asks her when Violet’s finally slid off of her and she’s brushing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, come and slick dripping down her thighs.
“Not for miles. But this area is mine, anyway.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely?”
Violet shrugs. She turns around, hair cascading down her back, and Lucky’s eyes fall on her breasts, drifting down to the red marks on her hips.
“I don’t get lonely. I get bored,” Violet answers. Her instincts remain calm, stretching out in the back of her mind like a pleased cat. Lucky smells like sex and something close to contentment. It’s nice, if not a little unnerving to be so comfortable in the company of a stranger.
“Everyone gets lonely.”
“Well, I don’t. I can always keep myself occupied. There’s always some new skill to learn.” Violet searches for the dress she threw on the floor earlier, lamenting how wrinkled it’s gotten. She wipes her thighs with Lucky’s discarded underwear and tosses on her dress. “Come on. Let’s get planning. There’s no point in wasting any more sunlight and there’s things to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucky says seriously, and when she puts on her clothes, she’s golden in the sunlight streaming in from the window at her back. Violet watches her, and Lucky watches her right back, flashing a little smile that makes Violet’s chest rumble with a purr.
Violet decides she likes Lucky, which is annoying because it means she has even more possibilities to plan and account for. She really hopes she’s not going to have to kill her, though. It could be fun if she sticks around a little while longer-- after all, the world has gone to shit. She can do anything she wants.