Page 73 of Desperate Omega

Normally I would balk at such a suggestion, but I know that he’s right. I might be able to keep pace with the alphas for a little while, but I don’t have their endurance, and there’s no point in pretending that I do. Thorus’s life is on the line here. His survival depends upon my cooperation.

“Okay,” I say.

I hand over my spear, then Brik moves in front of me and crouches so I can climb onto his back. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze my thighs around his middle, making sure to keep my feet out of the way of his legs. We set off again, moving much faster than before.

If I were an alpha, I think, then they wouldn’t need to carry me.

If I were an alpha, we wouldn’t have to go get help at all. Three alphas together would be able to handle those Farlanders.

No, probably not, actually.

Still, I can’t help feeling guilty for being an omega. If I weren’t an omega, none of this would have even happened in the first place. I wouldn’t have ventured out into the Zone all by myself to take care of my heat.

I also never would have encountered Markus again.

Or Brik. Or Thorus.

I feel the tears returning to my eyes, and I remember that I’m supposed to be setting my feelings aside until this whole situation is over. I take a few deep breaths to steady my nerves, and before long, my heartbeat levels out.

I’ve almost got my emotions under control, when I feel a sudden, sharp pain in my back.

“Ow!”

My first thought is that I’ve been stung by a wasp, but I quickly realize that isn’t the case. I’ve received my fair share of stings over the years, and this one feels different.

As soon as Brik hears my cry of pain, he whirls around, and I see with a jolt of fear that there are about fifteen or so tall figures emerging from the edge of the forest behind us.

More Farlanders.

And they’re carrying the same black guns the others had.

I watch over Brik’s shoulder in horror as the closest of the Farlanders takes aim and shoots.

The gun makes a soft phut noise, and Brik lets out a grunt that sounds more like annoyance than pain.

Behind us, Markus roars.

With a snarl, Brik pulls something out of his chest and tosses it away. I catch a glimpse of it before it disappears into the grass. A metal tube, smaller than my little finger, with a needle on one end, and a tuft of red fibrous material on the other.

A poisoned dart.

Shit. That must be what hit me in the back a moment ago.

Phut! Phut! Phut!

Brik grunts as more of the darts pierce his body.

I hear one of them whistle past my head. Probably that one was intended for Markus. I don’t know if it hit him or not.

Now even more Farlanders are emerging from the trees.

I let go of Brik’s shoulders and drop to the ground, preparing for a fight, but as soon as my feet touch down, my knees buckle beneath me, and I go down hard in the grass. In front of me, Brik growls and staggers forward, but he only makes it two steps before dropping to his knees.

He yells at Markus to run.

Behind us, Markus shouts my name, but his voice sounds strangely distant, as if he’s already miles away. It echoes through my head as darkness closes in around me. Then everything goes black and silent, and I don’t see or hear anything at all.

CHAPTER 31: SYRA