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“Come on, Omega.” My voice is blade-sharp. The throbbing in my fangs intensifies. My head pounds, but I can’t stop.

Won’t stop.

“Make me fucking understand!” I shout.

“Make me understand how a warrior, with centuries of experience ghosting through high-security strongholds, somehow let your human father get the jump on him.”

Out of nowhere, I’m slammed with that same sense of unease from before. Something inside me screams, warning me to back off. But I’m too angry. Too worked up.

Yelling feels good. Losing control, for once in my life, feels far too good to stop now.

The Omega’s voice wavers when she answers.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” I echo. “I suppose you have no idea why your father thanked you, repeatedly, for bringing Caelan to his attention. Or why he told Caelan you performed beautifully.”

I wait for the denial, the reaction, the anger.

Nothing.

She has no verbal response, but her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ of shock.

Satisfied, I lean back. Her response is confirmation that she had no idea I heard what happened that night. Unless she saw Caelan’s comm, she wouldn’t know I was listening.

She would have been ignorant of the terror that was clawing apart my insides as I listened to my best friend—my brother and packmate—walk into a trap. While I was too far away to help.

Her head tilts to the side, and a look of confusion slowly overrides the shock. Her lips part. She wants to ask a question, but she doesn’t.

“Speak, Omega.”

She hesitates, just long enough for me to wonder if she’s going to back down.

Then she winds up and takes a swing.

“It’s just… if you could hear everything happening…” She chews her lower lip. It’s obvious she’s second-guessing her decision. I glare at her, and her eyes fill with determination.

“If you heard everything, then why didn’t you warn Caelan that my father was coming?”

She can’t know. Can’t have a clue the way she landed a direct hit to my pride, but she did.

I’ve been beating myself up over that exact fuck-up the last two straight days, and she just threw it in my face. I don’t give a shit if she didn’t know she was poking a wound.

A snarl explodes from my chest. The Omega scrambles back from me, but I’m not falling for her victim act.

I stalk her across the room and roar, “Because your entire fucking house was warded, and it fucked with my security!”

My breaths saw through my lungs painfully.

“You had wards up, then they went down, and then out of nowhere they went up again. Only one of my drones worked, and it glitched almost right as he walked into your house.”

The explanation tumbles out. I shouldn’t care what this girl thinks. I shouldn’t feel vulnerable when she points out my failure. It shouldn’t strip me bare.

She’s nothing. Worthless. Her opinion doesn’t fucking matter.

So why do I feel like I have something to prove to her? Why do I NEED her to know I can protect her?

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me?