Do I call 911?
My mind was racing, but not fast enough to work out my next move. I gently shook his chest, trying to wake him, and a growl erupted in his throat.
“Goddamn it, talk to me, you fucking asshole,” I ground out. His closed eyes fluttered again. “What do you need?”
He said nothing, but the muscles in his chest twitched. Then, his biceps.
I froze, hovering over him, unsure how to help him. I guessed my best shot would be to call the fire department and hope they made it before… something worse happened.
Pulling out my phone, I swiped my thumb over the screen. Night’s eyes flew open before I could hit the emergency button,and I froze. He glared up at me, his eyebrows furrowed and his dark blue irises rimmed in crimson.
There was something feral in the way his features contorted.
He looked pained, hungry, andfucking angry.
Baring his teeth at me, a growl rolled in his chest. He looked like he was ready to leap up and attack, and that’s when reality hit me.
Oh, fuck.
OH FUCK.
Night was going rogue.
I knew he’d been close to the edge before, the last time he tried to tear apart the circus with his bare hands, but Daze had been there to calm him down. Now, Daze was nowhere in sight, and even if I called him and told him to get his ass here, it might be too late.
Once an alpha succumbed to going completely rogue, there was no getting them back. A bullet to the head was the only way to save them, and everyone else, at that point.
Mate bonds were supposed to stop the rogue cycle and balance out an alpha who started to go feral, but it wasn’t like I had a goddamn omega handy. There was only me, Zero, and a bunch of betas who wouldn’t survive if Night got ahold of them.
This was bad. Really bad.
“Night, you asked me to come help, so I’m here,” I said, trying to reason with him.
Was there even a point? Could a rogue alpha be reasoned with?
No idea, but I had to try.
“Come on,” I went on, trying to keep my tone under control. “You just need to calm down. You’re okay, dude. I’m sure Daze will be back soon. You just gotta?—”
At the mention of the aerialist, Night’s face twisted into the most personified expression of rage I’d ever seen, and hegrabbed the front of my T-shirt with both hands. Then, with unnatural strength, he rolled and slammed me against the trailer wall, scrambling to get on top of me.
“Fuck!” I yelled as my phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor.
If this fucker broke it—rogue or not—I would kick his ass.
I grabbed his arms, trying to get him into a subdued position, but he fought ferociously against my hold. Like a wild animal afraid to be caged, doing everything possible to escape.
“Stop. Fighting. Fucker!” I narrowly avoided his teeth sinking into my forearm and growled, fighting to get a better hold on him. If I could pin him down, control his limbs somehow, I’d be better off.
Or I could knock him the fuck out with something heavy.
I looked around to see what I could grab, but the split second cost me my grip on one of his arms. He swiped out with his hand and ripped open my shirt, his nails slicing my chest. I hissed as hot pain lanced over my skin.
With a pained growl, I punched him in the jaw, but it barely fazed him. The red around his irises was darker now, slowly expanding outward over the whites of his eyes.
How long did he have left before he reached the point of no return?
Is he already there?
