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“Does she?” My voice is a low growl, a challenge I can’t suppress. “Because it smells like she’s been fucking another alpha after she fucking…after she told me we would always talk, that we would figure it out…fuck—“
“Stop being a child,” Vance snaps. “Omegas do what they have to to survive—“
“Like pretending they never loved someone? Like giving up their own child?”
I didn’t even realize it until now…but this has all been fucking with me. The fact that my own mother was an omega who abandoned my dad and me in favor of Vance and an opulent mansion…
…Aisling could do that to me.
She would, if it meant saving the fucking world.
“Get over yourself,” Vance snarls, but I shove him away.
“Get the hell away from me.”
I shove away from Vance and through the debris, my boots crunching over shattered glass and spent bullet casings. The air smells like gunpowder and blood, a stench that wraps around me, choking.
“Gun, wait!” Aisling’s voice is desperate, it claws at my back, but I don’t stop, can’t stop.
“Leave him,” Vance snaps, his words slicing through the tension. “He made his choice.”
And I leave her behind with Vance, with Luka…
…with the men she chose over me.
Chapter twenty-seven
Aisling
Gunfire trickles to silence outside. Dust settles like the final curtain on a bloody show. I’m standing there, knuckles white, still sobbing as I watch Gunnar leave, when Vance wraps his arms around me. His chest is a protective wall against mine, his embrace gentle.
“Easy, Aisling,” he murmurs.
The knife in my hand drops with a clatter.
I don’t fight it.
My forehead falls against him, my body racked with sobs. It’s raw, this thing breaking out of me. Vance doesn’t say a word, just holds tighter. And damn if that isn’t the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.
“Thank you,” I choke out between the tears. It feels like gratitude but heavier, like something more.
“Shh,” he says, and there’s a softness to it. “You did good.”
My laugh is half-sob, disbelieving. Good doesn’t usually end in bloodshed. But then again, maybe here it does. After all, we’re still breathing; some of us aren’t. That counts for something.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he says, and guides me away from the chaos with a steady hand.
“No…I have something to do,” I argue.
I tear myself from Vance’s grip, the need to see Luka alive and kicking like a fist in my gut. I push through the rumble-strewn corridor, each step fuelled by urgency. Rook is there when I pick through the ruined pews to find Luka, his hands sure as he plunges a needle into Luka’s arm. The girls from Dreamland huddle around each other and watch, their eyes wide but their stance fierce.
They’ve seen hell but came back spitting fire.
I’m so damn proud of him.
“Will he—“ My voice cracks, breaking over Luka’s prone form.
“Back off, Aisling. Let me work.” Rook’s tone is all business, but his eyes flick to mine with a flash of something like compassion. “Oh…and welcome back to the land of the living. Good to see ya.”
