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The sun had dipped below the horizon before Sebastian spotted a small light ahead. A fire. He scented the air and smelled smoke. It obfuscated the other scents around them, but both Sebastian and his dragon knew that if Peregrine wasn’t here, he was close. It wouldn’t be long now before he was within reach.
The fire seemed to be coming from a pile of rocks that could’ve been a natural formation or the ruin of an ancient building. Sebastian signaled to Alistair, then crouched down in the lee of a nearby hillock. This close, the scent of blood was nearly overpowering, making his dragon crazed.
Kill, rend, maim, take, now now now.
No, Sebastian insisted, and transformed back into a man. His dragon continued to grumble about death and destruction, but he did it more quietly in the back of Sebastian’s head.
Alistair cocked his head at his brother, clearly asking for instructions.
“Stay here and keep watch,” Sebastian whispered. “I’ll bring back Peregrine. If I call out to you, come to my aid. Otherwise, stay put.”
Alistair gave Sebastian an incredulous look.
“’Tis naught but Peregrine and another omega that I scent. Does your nose tell you any different?”
With a slow shake of his head, Alistair agreed.
“Good.” Sebastian patted the side of Alistair’s jaw, then moved soundlessly on his bare human feet toward the flickering light. As he neared, he heard two voices speaking in a language he didn’t know. Which was curious, as he’d only picked up on one scent. Alistair no doubt would recognize which language they were speaking, but that was neither here nor there. He could worry about an interrogation of the thieves once he’d reclaimed Peregrine.
Sneaking up on the bandits was child’s play, as the two seemed far more intent on bickering than they did in paying attention to their surroundings. Sebastian hid himself behind a fat crumbling column and assessed the situation.
In the glow of the campfire stood a lean, wiry omega with dark hair. He held Peregrine close and pressed a knife to his throat. His partner in crime stood across from him, his face in shadow. He was a man, by the looks of him—far too tall and boxy to be any woman Sebastian had ever seen. This man could be a beta, but Sebastian sensed he was an alpha.
At first, Sebastian supposed the alpha was in charge, but despite not understanding the argument, it quickly became clear that the men were not working together. What Sebastian didn’t know, however, was if that made the alpha an ally or a different sort of antagonist.
If not for the knife to Peregrine’s throat, Sebastian would’ve already charged and gutted the omega, but he could see a thin trickle of blood run down Peregrine’s neck from where the knife cut shallowly into his skin. If he were startled, the omega would likely cut Peregrine out of reflex and he’d die before Sebastian could even reach his body.
The best course of action, therefore, was to wait for an opportunity to strike.
While he waited, the dynamic of the tableau changed. The voice of the alpha grew deeper and darker. Almost, Sebastian thought, seductive. All the words did, however, was cause the dark-haired omega to startle. His hand jumped and more blood appeared on Peregrine’s neck. Peregrine made a soft, keening noise of pain but otherwise held utterly still.
Then the omega did something unexpected.
Urging Peregrine along, he approached the alpha.
It was almost as if he couldn’t resist the sound of his voice.
This was the chance Sebastian had been waiting for. He inched forward, ready to take a closer position to the ongoing events, when the omega stopped and looked up at the sky, and the man in the shadows stopped speaking.
Sebastian looked up as well. There, in the sky, was his harebrained brother. He circled around them a few times, then dove down toward the kidnappers at breakneck speed. Knowing that his only chance of surprise was coming to an end, Sebastian leaped out from behind the pillar and ran toward the offending omega, praying to any god that would listen that he would be faster than the knife.
The omega wasn’t looking at him, however. He was distracted by Alistair. Sebastian easily wrenched the knife from his hand and brandished it against the villain’s neck instead. “Let my omega go,” he snarled.
It seemed, for a second, like the omega would listen, but then there came a snarl from the shadows and out stepped the alpha. He was mid-transformation, but it mattered not. Sebastian recognized him at once.
It was Bertram.
Or Frederich.
Whatever name he was going by now, the family hadn’t seen him in decades. Him being here, of all places, paralyzed Sebastian’s brain. Much like Sebastian had feared would happen to Peregrine, Sebastian’s knife cut clumsily into the dark-haired omega’s neck as he fumbled it in surprise.
Blood bloomed on the blade.
The second the scent of it hit the air, Sebastian realized what he was doing and stopped, but Bertram’s nostrils flared, and he rushed toward Sebastian with murder in his eyes.
“No!” Peregrine cried, and just as Bertram got within striking distance, he wriggled out of the other omega’s loosened grasp and stood with his arms outstretched in front of Sebastian.
Bertram didn’t stop. He tore into Peregrine, rending him down the chest with his wickedly sharp claws.
