Rifts of Dominion: The Omega Convergence

Chapter 4 — Suppressants and Secrets

The mutated walker finally stopped screaming when Dean’s hellfire ate through the last of its regenerating spine. The creature collapsed in a heap of charred bone and green-sludge ichor, the Rift-light in its eyes flickering out like a dying bulb. Smoke curled from its remains, carrying the stench of burnt meat and ozone. For a single, trembling moment, the woods went quiet—except for the low, constant growl of the sky still tearing itself apart overhead.

Rick’s knees buckled.

Shane caught him before he hit the dirt, one thick arm banding around his waist like it had been forged for exactly this purpose. “Easy, baby,” he rumbled, voice low and rough, the alpha command wrapped in something softer, older. “I got you. Always got you.”

Rick’s breath hitched. His scent was everywhere now—vanilla and gun oil and raw, desperate omega heat—mingling with the blood and smoke and the new, electric sweetness pouring off Tony a few yards away. The binding across his chest had soaked through completely; his breasts felt heavy, swollen, nipples aching against the wet fabric with every ragged inhale. Slick had ruined his pants. He could feel it cooling on his thighs, humiliating and undeniable. The spatial fractures in his vision kept flickering—tiny tears in the air that only he seemed to see, like the Rift was whispering secrets straight into his bones.

Around them, the group didn’t scatter right away. They lingered in that stunned, post-fight silence, the kind that always followed when the impossible kept piling on. Tony pushed off the tree he’d been leaning against, arc reactor still stuttering with unstable violet light. His dark eyes locked on Rick again, wide with the same soul-deep recognition that had slammed into both of them the moment the Rift spat him out.

“Rick,” Tony said, voice hoarse but steady, taking one careful step closer. “My older brother. Jesus. I… I felt it the second I hit the ground. Like the universe just slammed two puzzle pieces back together that Howard ripped apart when we were kids. He erased you—hid me in another timeline, another universe—because you presented omega first and he couldn’t stand the ‘weakness.’ Called it an experiment gone wrong. I was the spare. The one he could control.”

Rick’s throat closed. Older brother. The words landed like a punch he’d been waiting his whole life to take. “Tony… I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. They told me you died. Howard said—”

“Yeah, well, Howard lied about a lot of things,” Tony cut in, a bitter smirk twisting his mouth even as his scent spiked with protective omega sweetness. “And now I’ve got two alphas out there somewhere—Steve and Bucky—probably tearing apart whatever universe they landed in looking for me. Steve’s all golden-retriever protectiveness wrapped in that shield, and Bucky… Hydra left scars. He gets feral when my scent gets too strong. They’re gonna lose their damn minds when they find out I’ve got an older omega brother who’s apparently some kind of dimensional anchor. We need to find them. Soon.”

Dean snorted from where he was still hovering over Castiel, one hand possessively curled around the angel’s trench-coated shoulder even though Castiel’s grace was already knitting every scratch. “Yeah, join the club, Stark. One minute I’m in a bar in Lebanon, next minute the sky rips open and I’m falling through angels screaming and demons laughing. Cas was tracking some ‘Rift disturbance’—said it felt like the Cage cracking open all over again. Sam started seeing fractures in reality before we even hit the ground. Psychic vision crap. Whole damn multiverse is bleeding together because some idiot played with the Tesseract and Lucifer’s leftover grace.”

Sam rubbed his temple, psychic fractures still flickering behind his eyes like static. “It’s worse than the Cage. I can see threads—Walking Dead ground zero, Marvel bleeding in, our world’s angels and demons pouring through. And something else. Something that feeds on omega souls. It’s hunting anchors like you two.”

Castiel tilted his head, omega grace-scent pulsing soft and steady beneath the ozone. “The Rift is singing to both of you. Rick—your spatial dominion is stabilizing small tears without you even trying. Tony—your arc energy is acting like a power core. Together you could seal it. Or collapse everything. We must locate the others. Thor and Bruce came through a different fracture—I felt the thunder. Their bond is… volatile. The green one becomes very territorial around his omega.”

Daryl shifted in the shadows, crossbow still up, alpha scent thick with that familiar perverted protectiveness as his gaze dragged over Rick for half a second too long. “Y’all can play twenty questions later. Merle’s already scoutin’ that cabin east of here. Smells the two omegas from a mile off and that pervert’s probably already plannin’ how to tease Rick about it. We split. Too many scents draw the mutated ones. Me and Merle take Stark and the angel squad. Cover more ground, find the rest of your Marvel boyfriends while we’re at it.”

Shane’s grip on Rick tightened, thumb unconsciously stroking the scent gland at his neck. “Fine. But Rick and I take south. We got… shit to settle. Years of it. Circle back at dawn. And nobody touches him. Not walkers. Not angels. Not even your perverted brother, Daryl.”

Tony flashed a weak grin, already being steered toward the treeline by Daryl’s scarred hand on his armored shoulder. “Hey—big brother! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! And when Steve and Bucky crash-land, tell ‘em I said hi… and that I’m fine. Mostly.” The arc reactor gave one last defiant flare before the eastern group melted into the woods, their combined scents fading under the storm.

And just like that, Rick and Shane were alone.

The silence hit like a slap.

Shane didn’t move at first. Just held Rick against his chest, breathing hard, the rise and fall of his massive frame the only thing keeping Rick upright. His alpha scent had thickened into something primal—smoke and pine and raw, years-long hunger that made Rick’s knees want to give out all over again.

“Suppressants,” Shane said finally. The word came out flat, dangerous. “The ones I been smugglin’ you for fifteen goddamn years. The ones you swore were still workin’.”

Rick swallowed. His voice cracked. “They were. Until the Rift—”

“Bullshit.” Shane spun him around, backing him up against the nearest tree trunk with careful, terrifying control. His eyes—dark, wild—searched Rick’s face like he was memorizing every new crack. “I smelled you back at the car, Rick. Before the sky ripped open. Before your baby brother dropped out of hell. You’ve been leakin’ for hours. And you didn’t say a word.”

Rick’s chest heaved. The binding dug in cruelly now, breasts tender and full, the omega in him screaming to be touched, claimed, seen. Memories slammed into him like the Rift itself—every secret injection in the back of the cruiser while Lori slept, every time Shane had held him down through the shakes, every night Rick had bitten his own wrist to keep from whimpering through a heat that the pills barely touched. Lori had been beta, manipulative, always watching, always pushing for the perfect alpha husband image. No affair with Shane—that had been their secret, the emotional mate bond they’d never been allowed to name. But she’d still smelled the cracks. Hadn’t she?

“I couldn’t,” Rick whispered. “You know what it was like before. Laws. The badge. Lori watchin’ every move, Carl lookin’ up to ‘Sheriff Alpha Dad.’ I had to be what they needed. If they’d known I was… this… they’d have taken Carl. Or worse. The suppressants kept me alive. Kept us alive.”

“If they’d known,” Shane cut in, voice dropping to a growl that vibrated straight through Rick’s bones, “I would’ve killed anyone who looked at you wrong. Same as I’m gonna do now.” His forehead dropped to Rick’s, noses brushing, breath hot and ragged. “You think I didn’t know? Every night I helped you shoot that shit into your arm, every time I held you down so you wouldn’t shake apart… I knew. I knew what you were hidin’. What you were givin’ up. For me. For us. I’d lie awake after, hard as a rock, smellin’ your suppressed omega under all that fake alpha bullshit and tellin’ myself I could wait. That one day the world would let me have you.”

Tears burned Rick’s eyes. The heat was cresting again, slow and merciless, slick fresh and hot between his thighs. His spatial awareness flickered—tiny fractures in the air around them, like the Rift itself was giving them this stolen moment before it demanded blood again.

“Shane…”

“Years,” Shane whispered, the word cracking like a whip. His hands slid under Rick’s shirt, calloused palms finding the soaked binding and tearing it away in one brutal rip. The fabric fell to the dirt. Rick’s breasts spilled free—soft, heavy, nipples tight and flushed dark from years of being crushed flat. Shane’s breath hitched like he’d been shot. “Years I had to pretend I didn’t want to bury my face right here.”

Shane dropped to his knees like a man praying and sinning at the same time. His mouth latched onto one swollen nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking the sensitive peak while his big hand kneaded the other breast, pinching and rolling until Rick cried out. “Fuck—Shane—oh God—” Slick gushed between Rick’s thighs, soaking his ruined pants completely. Shane growled around the nipple, the vibration shooting straight to Rick’s core.

“Smell so fuckin’ good,” Shane snarled, yanking Rick’s pants down in one violent tug. The cool night air hit slick-drenched skin and Rick whimpered, legs shaking. Shane’s thick fingers slid through the mess between his legs, two calloused digits circling his entrance before pushing inside with zero warning. “So wet for me already. Been savin’ this up for years, haven’t you? All that fake-alpha bullshit while your pretty omega cunt dripped for your best friend.”

Rick’s head thunked back against the tree, spatial fractures sparking behind his eyelids as Shane crooked his fingers and rubbed mercilessly against that spot inside him. “Yes—yes, fuck—Shane, please—”

Shane added a third finger, stretching him open with wet, obscene sounds, mouth still working his breasts—biting, sucking, leaving dark marks that would bruise for days. “Gonna knot you so full you feel me for weeks. Gonna breed this needy little omega hole until you can’t walk. My Rick. My secret. Mine.”

He pulled his fingers free, spun Rick around, and bent him over a fallen log. The bark bit into Rick’s forearms as Shane shoved his own pants down just enough to free his cock—thick, heavy, already leaking, knot swelling at the base. One brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt, Rick’s slick making the slide filthy and perfect.

Rick screamed—raw, broken, relieved. Shane didn’t give him time to adjust. He fucked like a man possessed, hips snapping hard, one hand fisted in Rick’s hair, the other reaching around to pinch and tug at his nipples. “Take it,” Shane growled against his ear. “Take every inch. Been dreamin’ about this since we were kids. You under me, leakin’ for me, beggin’ for my knot.”

The angle hit deep, cock dragging over Rick’s prostate with every thrust. Spatial awareness exploded—tiny rifts flickering in the air around them like fireworks as pleasure tore through him. “Shane—knot—please—need your knot—”

Shane’s hips stuttered. The swell at the base of his cock caught, stretching Rick impossibly wider as the knot popped inside and locked them together. Heat flooded Rick’s insides—thick, endless pulses of come that made his belly swell slightly. Shane’s teeth sank into the scent gland at his neck, biting hard enough to break skin, marking him for the whole apocalypse to smell.

Rick came with a shattered sob, vision whiting out, spatial dominion flaring so bright the air around them warped for half a second. His walls clamped down on the knot, milking every drop while his own cock spurted untouched onto the dirt.

They stayed locked like that for long minutes—Shane draped over Rick’s back, still grinding shallowly, lips pressed to the fresh bite. “Mine,” he kept whispering, voice wrecked. “My omega. My Rick. Never hidin’ again.”

When the knot finally deflated enough to slip free, a rush of come and slick followed. Shane turned Rick gently, pulling him into his lap against the tree, both of them breathing like they’d run a marathon. Shane’s hand stroked slow circles over Rick’s belly, thumb brushing the soft swell of one marked breast like he couldn’t stop touching.

“Rest, baby,” Shane murmured, lips against Rick’s temple, voice soft now, reverent. “I got the watch. And when the others circle back… we’re tellin’ ‘em everything. No more secrets. Not from me. Not from you. Not ever again. Your little brother’s out there with his own possessive alphas, and we’re gonna need every one of ‘em before this is over.”

Rick closed his eyes, the spatial fractures in his vision settling into something calmer. Brother. Anchor. Omega. All of it finally, terrifyingly real.

Somewhere in the distance, another tear screamed open.

But for now—for this stolen breath—Rick was exactly where he belonged.

In the arms of the alpha who had waited a lifetime to claim him.