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Uncle Jim shouts a gruff greeting. The water laps at the hull. We wait with bated breath as long, tense moments pass. My dread builds with each heavy beat of my heart.
An explosion sounds from nearby, followed by Uncle Jim’s body hitting the deck. My stomach leaps into my throat and every muscle in my body tenses with fear. Kale screams and his footsteps stomp over our heads as he runs from fore to aft.
Several other boots thump against the floorboards on the port side. A scuffle breaks out as Kale fights the intruders.
I can’t stand this. Without Grandpa and our other two uncles who went on a supply run, Kale is all alone. He’s a fierce fighter, but he’s outnumbered.
I grab the cast iron skillet and rush toward the stairs, but the hatch flings open as I wrap my hand around the railing.
The sun halos around a silhouette that is definitelynotKale. The newcomer’s shoulders are too broad and the stench wafting off him curdles my stomach.
“My, my, what have we here?”
The scratchy timbre wraps my insides in knots. I back away from the steps and swallow bile as a scrawny alpha saunters down the ladder. His ripped clothes and unwashed odor fill me with disgust. The moment his legs are within reach, I wrap both hands around the cast iron handle and swing.
The skillet slams into his shins. Pain travels up my arms, but I tighten my grip and step out of the way as he falls. I lift my weapon above my head and pour everything into swinging it straight down onto the male’s head.
Bones crunch. He doesn’t rise. I stand and shake with adrenaline as I avoid looking at the mess.
Agony shoots through my scalp as another alpha buries his hand in my hair and yanks me up the stairs. I swing the cast iron again, but my arms burn from the weight and the angle is wrong. Metal rings against metal as I hit the railing and lose my grip. The cast iron tumbles to the ground, smacking into my thigh on the way.
The stairs batter my body as the raider hauls me upward. I grab the wrist attached to the hand in my hair, but the greasiness of his skin prevents me from getting a firm hold.
He yanks me away from the doorway and tosses me onto the deck. I grunt and scramble to my feet as he turns back toward the hull.
Two other raiders grab me. I kick one and bury my fingers in the other’s eye, but they’re bigger and stronger than I am. I scream and fight their hands as they pin me between them.
Vomit climbs up my throat as their hands run over me.
“We got us a feisty bitch, don’t we?” says the beta male behind me.
“We got ustwofeisty bitches,” says the asshole who pulled me up the stairs.
The world stops when he turns and reveals Hera struggling in his arms. Fury overrides my terror. Every thought drains from my head.
I didn’t want to believe it when my scent changed. The hints of omega sweetness budding in my pheromones were not welcome. Being an omega would bring too many complications to an already dangerous world.
But as I see the fear in Hera’s eyes, I hurtle into my omega instincts, experiencing my inner rage for the first time. I become a wild animal. No one will hurt my sister. No one.
I rampage.
Chapter 2
Deck
Waves slap against the bow, but I open the throttle and scowl as we speed toward the group of small crafts. Surrounded by three raider ships, a tiny fishing boat bobs in and out of sight. Rumors of an omega brought me here, but when I catch sight of the mayhem on board, disbelief spears through me.
A petite frame, covered neck to toe in grimy rags, launches herself out from between two falling men. Blood sprays from their necks and rains down on the tiny female. Even through the chaos and filth, her breasts and hips give her away. The crimson-soaked fabric clings to her curves and announces to the world her dynamic.
Need coils around the base of my spine. I’ve barely glimpsed her—haven’t even scented her yet—but my cock hardens in expectation.
I found an omega.
Wicked satisfaction curls my lips as I watch her sink her blade into another male’s thigh. I release the throttle and call out instructions as I stalk toward the bow.
Instincts demand I rush onboard and snatch up my omega, but battle-hardened wisdom leads me to scan the area as we draw nearer. Besides my omega and the beta she stabs a second time, three other males and a younger female fight on the fishing boat’s deck while over a dozen raiders scramble to escape to the other crafts.
I gesture for the boats on either side of my speeder to branch out. They follow my silent command without hesitation.
