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The ominous symbol of the Widow is missing from their uniforms. Instead, they sport different crests and emblems on their clothes.
“They’re from the military packs,” I whisper as the men walk in and stare at us with baffled, stricken looks. Their faces are covered in grime and soot. Blood soaks into their uniforms from the numerous cuts and scrapes they’ve sustained during their battle with the Black Widow.
“They’re all...” One of the soldiers whispers, staring at us blankly. “Sir, they’re all...”
“Omegas,” the tallest of them replies. Dressed in a dark maroon uniform, he exudes an overwhelming aura.
“It smells strange in here,” another man mutters. He’s as tall as the other alpha and powerfully built. He’s attired in a black camo uniform that reminds me of the Black Widow assholes, but he’s clearly from another military pack.
“These poor omegas’ scents have soured,” his companion replies. “That’s why it smells like rotten cakes in here.”
Their overpowering presence among the soldiers easily identifies them as alphas.
“Are any of the Widow bastards hiding in here?” the alpha commander in black demands in a clipped tone.
“No, Sir,” replies a subordinate. “It’s just these caged women.”
“Captain, there are children here too,” a nearby soldier whispers.
While they’re muttering between themselves, I find my gaze fixing on the alpha in the maroon uniform.
The stranger stands several inches taller than the men around him and has massive, broad shoulders. His thick fingers, coated with dust and blood, seem to have been built for ripping throats. Despite his imposing appearance, he has a beautiful, chiseled face that reminds me of statues of ancient Greek demigods.
A strange yearning erupts in my chest as I stare at him.
Before I can look away, I realize he’s staring right back at me too.
A hint of recognition flits through his emerald-green eyes.
Shit!I curse internally. Did that man just recognize me?
“Seth, can you believe what those bastards have been doing here?” the other alpha says through clenched teeth.
The sound of his name rouses him. He breaks eye contact and glances at his companion.
“They’ve been trafficking these innocent omegas,” says Seth. “I’m sure the rich and the powerful who’ve been helping the Widow were frequent visitors here.”
Similar looks of disgust cross the faces of the two alphas.
“What should we do with them?” asks one of the soldiers.
“We should leave them here for now,” Seth says in a lowered voice. “The explosions and gunshots that occurred earlier must’ve scared them.”
“I agree,” says his companion. “We’ll need to bring in someone who can handle victims of abuse and trauma. They’ll be able to calm them before we get them out of here.”
Surprise flickers through me. Why do these military alphas sound like they actually care about us?
“These women and children need a lot of care and protection,” says Seth. “I’m scared to even imagine the kind of life they’ve led here.”
The genuine concern in his voice startles me. Have these people truly come in here to rescue us?
The men around him nod.
“We’ll let them stay here for now and sweep through the rest of the bunkers,” Seth commands.
“Yes, Sir,” the soldiers around him chorus loudly.
With a last, fleeting glance at me, Seth and his alpha companion walk away. The rest of the soldiers follow them and shut the door behind them.
