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What did I expect? It’s not my first time being sold. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.
The alpha lifts his gun to Craig’s forehead.
The beta stills, his mouth dropping open in utter shock that a motherfucking drug cartel didn’t keep their word.
A bang cuts the night, hiding the sound of my intake of breath.
Craig’s body hits the ground with a soft thup.
“We take them both,” the alpha says tightly. His nostrils flare, and I swear he turns to stare straight at me. “Track the female by scent. I’ll handle the male.” He strides for the front door.
My heart squeezes like a lemon, dripping acid down my throat.
There should be a decision to make here, a moment of hesitation, but as soon as his feet start to move, I’m already sprinting through the trees.
Even through my heat haze, or maybe because of the heat haze, I know what I want to do.
I won’t let them take Orion. Hurt Orion. Shit, even look at Orion.
He’s mine, even if he doesn’t want me.
In a burst of speed, I cut across the garden and bust it for the basement steps before these assholes can surround the house.
I’m weak and barely functioning, barely able to blink through the mist that coats my vision and makes my body burn, but I’m going to do something, even if Orion wants to kill me at the first hit of my scent.
I’ll save him no matter what.
Then, my conscience will be clear.
Then, I can finally disappear.
***
Thirty-Five
ORION
I don’t know why I wanted to sleep in the pack bed instead of my own room. I never sleep well in here, always twisting and turning. Like even when I manage to drift, my body knows I’m alone.
Always fucking alone.
Tonight the guys are out scraping Finn off whatever ledge. Tomorrow, it’ll be a mission. Maybe the next day I’ll find them in Lilah’s bed.
I wish I was strong enough that I didn’t need them, but who am I fucking kidding, bed piled high with pillows and blankets like they’re the bodies that aren’t here. I need my pack. I need Atlas like I need air. Now when his attention drifts, I know exactly the omega on his mind.
Because I’m just as fucking gone for her.
This morning, I walked into the kitchen smiling. Smiling because I thought I’d see her and we’d eat breakfast together, talking through this omega shit. Lilah’s the only one who understands the madness. The only one who knows what to say and do without making me feel like I’m a straight-jacket away from a suite with padded walls.
She calms me like not even Atlas can.
She listens to me, cooks for me, makes me want to bite and claim her, which I can’t even fucking do because, oh right, I’m an omega, not a fucking alpha.
I’ve always torn myself up over my omega awakening. Seriously beat the shit out of myself on any and all occasion for ruining the pack and stealing them from the girl of their dreams.
Pretty sure that dream girl is Lilah, and that adds another layer of self-loathing, because I’m not just stealing them from some abstract idea of an omega.
I’m also keeping Lilah from her meant-to-be pack.
