People had realized that Billy wasn't a normal type of Omega from the very first heat he'd had. It was a bloody, brutal lesson then and there that he was not to be touched. That, even in the throes of his estrus, he could kill. And he'd killed four Alpha, just to prove it.
A little orphan in a rough area, he'd learned to fight from the gangs in the back alleys. Had gotten his money by running 'errands' for them. Had earned his keep by protecting the head bosses because, even at eleven, no one could throw knives like him. It had been a foregone conclusion he'd turn out Alpha. But, like a lot of assumptions, nature laughed at the presumption of man.
Three Alpha, smelling him, had almost been wicked with their glee. He'd been fourteen and in the midst of rivals, jealous of his skill. They'd thought this was the perfect justice, for Billy. He'd killed them all before they even got close enough to undress him.
The fourth had been to drive the point home.
But even as a good killer, he hadn't really been safe. Not in Korea and certainly not in America. His contract had been to kill the one railroad boss (easily done). The second one he killed had been one who tried to bite his neck in the middle of the night. Nowhere was really safe for him. Except, maybe, with this new companion of his.
At the mention of the early morning, Billy frowned. For a moment, he was about to argue, but he could see the urging in Goodnight's eyes. The hint he was missing. And it was then that he took note of his general antsiness. The tension, just under the skin. The feeling of being too warm and not warm enough, at the same time.
And, looking at Goodnight, he felt the sudden, foreign surge of desire. And he understood at once what was going on.
Alphas all around the bar were looking at him. Watching as he pushed in his chair, ready to memorize where he was going. Billy let out a small growl under his breath. The only warning any of them would get.
"Let them know that anyone entering my room will die," he tells Goodnight without looking at him. And then, shifting his gaze over, he delivers cooly a final word.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-10-31 05:11 pm (UTC)A little orphan in a rough area, he'd learned to fight from the gangs in the back alleys. Had gotten his money by running 'errands' for them. Had earned his keep by protecting the head bosses because, even at eleven, no one could throw knives like him. It had been a foregone conclusion he'd turn out Alpha. But, like a lot of assumptions, nature laughed at the presumption of man.
Three Alpha, smelling him, had almost been wicked with their glee. He'd been fourteen and in the midst of rivals, jealous of his skill. They'd thought this was the perfect justice, for Billy. He'd killed them all before they even got close enough to undress him.
The fourth had been to drive the point home.
But even as a good killer, he hadn't really been safe. Not in Korea and certainly not in America. His contract had been to kill the one railroad boss (easily done). The second one he killed had been one who tried to bite his neck in the middle of the night. Nowhere was really safe for him. Except, maybe, with this new companion of his.
At the mention of the early morning, Billy frowned. For a moment, he was about to argue, but he could see the urging in Goodnight's eyes. The hint he was missing. And it was then that he took note of his general antsiness. The tension, just under the skin. The feeling of being too warm and not warm enough, at the same time.
And, looking at Goodnight, he felt the sudden, foreign surge of desire. And he understood at once what was going on.
Alphas all around the bar were looking at him. Watching as he pushed in his chair, ready to memorize where he was going. Billy let out a small growl under his breath. The only warning any of them would get.
"Let them know that anyone entering my room will die," he tells Goodnight without looking at him. And then, shifting his gaze over, he delivers cooly a final word.
"That includes you."