Page 108 of Omega Hunted

My gun was still trapped between us. Emric lunged for my wrist with his free hand, twisting it away from him. I fought, both of us wrestling for control as the muzzle swung wildly between us.

The gun exploded.

The sound was deafening in the small room, and for a heartbeat neither of us moved.

Then the pressure on my throat vanished as Emric tried to cover the wound in his throat.

Blood burst between his fingers in a bright, pulsing spray, spilling over his knuckles and down the front of his coat. His mouth opened, but whatever he tried to say dissolved into a wet choking sound.

He stared at me, confused, then his knees buckled, and he hit the floor so hard the sound echoed around the room. One final shudder ran through him, then he was still, and blood crept across the floorboards beneath his head.

This wasn’t real.

It can’t be real.

He’d get up. He always got up. Then he’d smile that cold smile, tell me I’d been stupid enough to believe I’d won, and he’d make me pay for it. He’d take Asha, hurt Cassian, and lock me away again.

His eyes stayed open, fixed on the ceiling, and my fingers had locked around the grip so tightly they hurt, but I couldn’t make them let go. I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t look away.

I’d spent my entire life believing Emric Kastor couldn’t be beaten or stopped. That he couldn’t die.

I killed him.

And behind me Asha was crying.

The gun slipped from my numb fingers and clattered onto the floor, and I crossed to her, gathering her up with hands that had gone unsteady again now the fight was over, and held her against my chest while she cried herself hoarse into my shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” I said, repeatedly, until I nearly believed it myself.

Emric lay where he’d fallen, the gun still lying between us.

I couldn’t stop shaking, and I slumped to the floor.

“Soren.”

Cassian was here? Was I imagining this? He was kneeling in front of me; his hands covered in blood that wasn’t all his. His gaze flicked once to Emric’s body before they came back to me, and I watched him understand exactly what had happened, and I reached for him.

“Don’t.” His voice came out wrecked, one hand lifting off the floor toward me and then stopping short. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want blood on you, on her⁠—”

I didn’t listen. I got a hand into his hair and pulled him in, and all the fight left his shoulders at once. He pressed his face into my lap beside Asha and just stayed there, his breath ragged and hot through the fabric of my jeans, his hand finally closing around my wrist like he needed to check I was real.

“Ronan said they had designs for the house, the plans. I should have realized; I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry, Soren, I’m so sorry.

A shape filled the doorway behind him, big enough to block out the hall light, and I went still all over again.

“It’s okay; he’s okay,” Cassian reassured.

“Sheriff Decker.” The big man said it like an apology, holding both hands up as he stepped in slowly. “He’s safe. You’re all safe.”

I kept one hand in Cassian’s hair, and the other wrapped around Asha, and didn’t loosen either of them until Decker crouched down far enough that I could see his face properly, younger than I imagined, grey gaze steady on me.

“Cass needs medical help,” I murmured.

Decker’s radio crackled at his hip, and he silenced it, eyes still on Cassian. “He won’t let me call anyone,” he said, and there was an edge under the calm now, frustration worn thin. “Man’s been telling me no for the last ten minutes while he’s bleeding through his shirt.”

“Brec’s fifteen out.” Cassian’s voice came out muffled against my leg, thin but stubborn, like he’d already had this argument and wasn’t interested in having it again. “Told you. Don’t need anyone else up here.”

Decker crouched lower, forearms on his knees, and met my gaze instead, as if he’d already worked out Cassian wasn’t going to be the reasonable one in the room. “You want my honest opinion—we should call someone.”