Page 41 of Sweet Torment

We hit the fence at once. It’s not smooth. It’s a chaotic scramble of limbs and curses, the chain-link rattling under our weight. Someone’s boot catches my shoulder hard. Freddie’s elbow cracks into my ribs. Owen is already halfway up, moving with a raw intensity that leaves the rest of us looking like fools.

“Twenty seconds!”

Owen clears the razor wire and drops out of sight. I’m reaching for the top when the metal under my hands shudders. A low, deep vibration tells me we’re out of time.

“Fuck, it’s coming back!” I let go, hitting the ground and rolling away from the fence.

Weller drops a second after me. Freddie is still at the top, his shirt snagged on the barbs in three places. “Ten seconds!”

“Freddie, get down. Now!” Weller shouts, his voice urgent.

Freddie tears at the fabric, blood welling where a barb slices his arm. His sleeve is wrapped tight around the wire.

“Five sec—they’re overriding⁠—”

Freddie rips his arm free just as the current slams back on with a loud snap. His hand is still touching the metal. The electricity hits him, and his body goes completely rigid. A choked scream is torn from his throat as he’s thrown backward. He lands in a heap on Owen’s side of the fence.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He’s on the ground, his whole body convulsing, clutching his arm to his chest.

Owen doesn’t even look back at him. He’s already scaling the nearest tree, pulling a rope from his pack as he goes. He loops it around a thick branch, knots it a few times, and tosses the end back toward us.

“Figure it out,” Owen calls down. Then the absolute maniac just drops from the tree and vanishes into the darkness.

“OWEN!” Weller bellows, but he’s gone.

Freddie pushes himself up, his movements still jerky. “That asshole has no chill.” He tests his fingers one by one, grimacing. “But I’m gonna go find him.” He stumbles after Owen and disappears into the night. Our two most impulsive pack members, now running wild with no plan. This is a strategic nightmare.

“I’m going to murder them both,” Weller says through gritted teeth, already climbing the tree. I follow him up.

The branch groans when I put my weight on the rope. “This is not going to hold both of us.”

“Then we go fast.”

“Can you get the power back down?” Weller demands into the comm.

“Negative. They’ve locked me out. And shit. The system’s firing off alerts. You’ve got maybe ten minutes before every guard on site knows you’re here.”

Hand over hand, I cross above the fence. The rope stretches, and the fibers whine. Sweat makes my palms slick, but I drop down on the other side.

Weller is halfway across when a branch cracks, loud as a gunshot. He drops the last few feet, landing hard but staying upright. “Which way did they go?”

We stare into the blackness. Trees everywhere. No trail, no sound, no sign of Owen or Freddie.

“Fuck. Thousands of acres and those two idiots just ran for it.”

“The bond is telling me to go north,” Weller insists. I hope to God his magic omega-seeking compass is right because we have nothing else.

We push into the trees. The canopy is so thick it blots out the moon. We have to use flashlights, our beams cutting small holes in the darkness. Every snap of a twig makes us freeze.

“Ezra,” I breathe into the comm. “We’re in. Owen and Freddie went ahead.”

“Copy. Three vehicles just pulled up at the main entrance. You’ve got company.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

The wind shifts. Three alpha scents hit me. They’re thick and tinged with arrogance. They’re trying to intimidate her. It’s a disgusting display of power. Any alpha in the world knows an omega in heat isn’t getting a fair fight.

“They’re hunting her,” Weller snarls, his voice dropping low.