Wolves of a Feather

Burning Up

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Chapter Four

Burning Up

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It was going more smoothly then he could have hoped. In some respects he knew he had the Bat to thank for that. He had left his pack in such a mess that his lead omega was unbalanced and completely touch starved.

Slade remembered Richard Grayson, not as the lithe black and blue Nightwing but as the fiery Robin. Fangs always bared and fiercely loyal, he remembered sparring that boy with the intention of capturing the bird for himself.

Now, it was a reality.

He had been subtly getting closer to the omega every day, forcing the boy to accept the passing brush of his fingers or the placing of a hand on his shoulder. It was obvious that Dick had buried his instincts and biological needs with the help of artificial blockers and pure will. It was honestly amazing that he hadn't cracked yet. Omegas had psychical needs that required touch. Skin starved was not an omega exclusive term but it was more dangerous in the gender.

Bruce Wayne had set his prized bird up for failure. Just as well it was Slade and not another. He could imagine the torture Black Mask would put Nightwing through or the 'retraining' Ra's al Gul would have in store for the wilful omega. With pure torture alone, Dick would take a long time to break but with a different approach, with touch and praise and scent, Slade could gradually bend him, take him further to that uncrossable line and finally, over it.

He was sure that if Dick obeyed then the rest of the pack would begin to fall in line. Jason would likely be his next target. The Beta was less the bat's then Dick was. It was clear that the omega was still achingly loyal to the caped crusader whilst Hood was more interested in his own mission. He had no problem with the beta using his gun to remove problem people. It would be a matter of guiding the fiery beta to shoot where Slade pointed.

Damian was taking more time to plan out. For now the baby alpha was trying to pretend they all didn't exists in his orbit. In the long run, isolating his pack members would only result in his own misery.

Tim was a bit more of an obstacle. The pup was sharp as a tack and too young to have suffered through many heats yet. Bruce had given him more freedom then he had ever given his first omega. The result being that Slade could feel the pup's resistance. Incredibly intelligent and quick to act but he was so very obviously still loyal to his old alpha.

Still, with Dick under his control, Tim would fall in line. He wouldn't force the issue. If he tried, it would only frightened and force the pup further into his own resistance. Besides, forcing himself on the pup would only create tension with Dick and Jason, something that he wanted to avoid. For now.

Tim didn't matter for now. Slade had what he wanted for now. He had his Robin...

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Dick sat on the couch. The pains in his stomach were getting harder to ignore. He was annoyed with himself, with Slade, with Bruce and with the whole damn situation. He had taken Slade's advise and slept in the nest. It had unquestionably been one of the best sleeps he had ever had.

Which is also annoyed him.

He had woken in the morning, coiled tight around the pillows. He had caught himself preening and shifting things around like a pregnant little omega. Then, partly horrified by his own behaviour, he had fled the nest and showered in the coldest water he could force the taps to provide.

Training had almost been a release. He had been allowed to spare Jason, Tim instructed to rope climb and stretch whilst Damian moved about the various weights and gym equipment. The sparing awakened his muscles and instincts. Even with his injuries, he had thrown himself into the bouts with enthusiasm. He ending up with a bruised jaw and his ribs aching something nasty but he felt more like himself. Jason grinned at him through a split lip.