Page 26 of A Murderous Omega

“Nineteen,” I said finally. “It took me—” I swallowed. “It took me a while to get back on my feet after I killed my pack. How about you?”

“Same. I found an alpha forcing himself on an omega.” He paused. “Snapped his neck before I’d decided to do it. And discovered I liked it.”

“My first kill was with Conor,” Emile said through the earpiece. “I surprised him in his apartment and discovered him showering off blood.”

“Aren’t we lucky we found an omega who suits us so well?”

I choked back my laughter.

“You’re extraordinary,” Emile continued. “A fighter—a survivor.”

“A force of nature,” Conor added. “Fucking perfect.”

The growing warmth in my chest expanded dangerously.

“Movement,” I said abruptly, grateful for the distraction.

The door opened, and a young man emerged, moving like every step hurt. He had to be an omega, even if I couldn’t scent him from across the street.

“He’ll be safe soon,” Conor said.

“Sure as fuck will be,” I agreed.

The door opened again, and the pimp stepped out, hat pulled low. Even from this distance, I could see the dark stains on his hands. Blood.

My entire body coiled, ready to spring, every instinct screaming at me to move, to chase, to end him right fucking now.

“Lark,” Conor said quietly. “What’s the move?”

I blinked. My alpha was asking me—not telling me, not commanding me, but waiting for my call.

I swallowed down my rage at the alpha pimp. “Surveillance only tonight,” I said, even though it killed me that the omegas would have to suffer one more night. “We’ll move tomorrow, once I’ve confirmed the plan for the omegas. We can’t risk something going wrong and them getting hurt.”

Emile hummed his agreement. “It’s a smart move.”

“Yeah,” I said regretfully, tracking the pimp as he disappeared into the alley—same route from before my alphas kidnapped me, predictable as clockwork. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, we kill him,” Conor confirmed.

“And free the nine omegas. The Birds of Prey are standing by.”

“You’re so fucking incredible,” Conor murmured.

The warmth in my chest threatened to suffocate me. “We should head back, get some rest.”

“Agreed,” Emile said. “Tomorrow, we hunt.”

As Conor and I packed up, he touched my wrist. I met his bright blue eyes, practically glowing in the dark, a question in my own.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For trusting us. I know it’s not easy.”

It wasn’t, but working with them tonight, as they waited for my lead and followed my plan and respected my judgement, cracked my heart wide open, and I fucking hated it.

“We’ll take him out together,” I said, then broke down my equipment without looking at Conor.

“After that?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t,” I snarled.