Then his phone rang—his pack was in danger.
Titan walkedout of that fight with an injured arm.
The muscles on his right bicep were severed; he didn’t realize how much he used that arm, until he couldn’t.
Everything took thrice as long now: washing, dressing, baking. It was possible to bake with one arm, of course. But baking severaldifferent products before the crack of dawn—Titan had to scale back, dropping some of his less popular buns because he simply didn’t have the time.
Cum collection was affected, too. Old Leftie wasn’t quite as good. That, combined with the constant pain, meant that Titan was having trouble fulfilling his orders. Not to mention all the packaging and cleanup.
“You should hire some help,” Hamilton said. “Then you’ll havethreearms in the kitchen.”
Titan snorted. “I’m sure whoever you have in mind will appreciate being described as ‘two arms and nothing else’.”
“Hire an omega, and you won’t just have two more arms—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Titan growled. “I’m not hiring an omega to seduce them.”
Hamilton grinned. “Just saying.”
He waved a frilly handkerchief and flounced off, leaving Titan to painstakingly roll out his dough.
Being a baker was hard work. Omegas could do it, but it would be easier for an alpha.
“I could just buy another stand mixer,” Titan said to himself, making a mental note to put some things in his online shopping cart.
Just in case.
He cut out the cookies and arranged them on baking sheets, before sliding them into the oven. Then he started the timer.
In the distance, car brakes screeched.
Titan’s pulse thumped. He dashed out of the bakery into the cool morning air, his eyes adjusting to the low light.
A car was coming down the highway nearby, going too fast.
In its path was a drunk person weaving onto the road.
“Fuck,” Titan hissed, breaking into a run.
The situation was terrible; too many things could go wrong. He sprinted toward the omega and the car, cursing louder when the omega kept walking—right into the car’s path. The car honked loudly. Brakes squealed.
At the last second, Titan leaped, throwing himself at the omega and pushing her out of the way. The momentum was enough to send them both flying.
Titan grabbed the omega’s arm so she wouldn’t hit the asphalt at full speed. But he was still falling himself, still losing his balance.
When he could no longer hold onto the omega, he released her and reached out to catch himself.
Crack!
Pain shot through his forearm. He rolled across the asphalt, breathing heavily as he grabbed the omega again, to yank her off the highway.
Agony screamed through his bones. When he looked down, he realized that his arm didn’t look right.
I broke my fucking arm.
He tried to use his other arm, except all the stitches pulled.
Wait. My left arm is broken. Not my right.
