Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, hot and unexpected. The moisture gathered, threatening to spill over before I blinked rapidly, forcing the weakness away. I’d rarely cried when my body betrayed me repeatedly over the years. I’d rarely cried when experimental treatments burned through my veins like liquid fire. I’d rarely cried when my parents stopped coming. I wouldn't cry now over men I hadn't even met yet.
But the fear remained, floating beneath my determination and refusing to dissipate.
I shouldn’t hope for things I could never have. Things like connection, belonging, and the kind of bone-deep certainty that I truly mattered to someone else.
The view outside the closet plane window had changed from city to mountains to the beginnings of desert landscape. I lifted one hand, and the sun reflected off my silver-glove. If I moved it just so, I could make a patch of light appear on the ceiling above. My vision narrowed down to that little bit of brightness. I moved my hand back and forth, helping the glow dance joyfully. The light looked so free, bobbing up and down above. I dropped my hand, taking away its ability to exist, let alone move.
I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes. Whatever happened, I would survive it. I always survived.
The plane continued its arc across the sky, carrying me toward five men who might become my future or just another harsh disappointment. The plane continued toward Las Vegas, with its polluted air and desert heat that my body would struggle to adapt to. The plane continued toward the next test in a lifetime of tests.
I drew a deep breath, feeling the suit's oxygen system respond to my slightly increased demand. The feel of my healthier-than-ever lungs expanding fanned a small, stubborn flame of hope inside my chest.
Hope that five dangerous, unstable Alphas might somehow be exactly what I needed, and perhaps, in ways I couldn't yet imagine, I’d be exactly what they needed too.
32
XANDER, ASHER, NITRO, FALLON, & KANE
{The day Lucy arrives}
Pre-dawn Las Vegas.
XANDER.
When we were at our worst, we were also at our most reckless.
The Omega was coming later today. None of us were ready. None of us wanted her.
I nestled my hands on the cold grips of my motorcycle, feeling the hum of the engine beneath me. The dark streets of Las Vegas stretched out around us. After three a.m., the witching hour, where shadows danced between failing flickers of neon. We stood on the precipice of rebellion, an illegal street race with ten grand up for grabs. This was the last thing we should be doing right now—an arrest would void the Cirque contract—but we had to let out the rage. So, we’d pulled our five Fireblades out of storage and gassed them up.
Me and my pack brothers were letting off steam, but the air was thick with competition thanks to the other riders. Themoney meant little to us, but people got cutthroat in these races trying to get the cash.
To my left, Asher wore his usual shit-eating grin, leaning casually against his bike, confident as ever. Nitro sat just behind me with arms crossed, looking bored as fuck. Fallon on my right was studying the road ahead, brow furrowed. And Kane, the only still standing while every other racer was seated, nervous energy making him pace. Or maybe he was just cold.
As I waited for the flag to drop, my mind drifted to the reason we were all so damn angry and restless. The Omega, and all the unknowns surrounding her. Eros said they’d send complete details along with the ‘package’, but what they’d already divulged—a several inches thick medical file, an apparent cure, and the fact she’d need special care to adjust to Nevada—were more than enough to know she didn’t belong with us. It was goddamn madness that the Institute wanted to pass her off on us in the first place.
My pack had discussed ways to scare her off; to make her so fucking miserable she begged to go back to Seattle. The contract would stay intact if she rejected us, and we’d hopefully get matched with someone less pathetic later. One worry ate at me though—what if we took it too far?
I tried to redirect my focus back to the race, yet the unnamed Omega hovered like a dark cloud.
A woman was moving to the middle of the street, our headlamps illuminating her supple figure. In one hand, she carried a strip of white cloth. It was nearly time.
With a flick of my wrist, I cranked the throttle, letting the sound of my bike drown out the world. Others did the same. The layered roar of a dozen engines echoed around us.
“Ready?” Asher shouted, giving me a thumbs up. I nodded, and he pulled his visor into place, face obscured behind tinted lens.
I glanced around at my other brothers. Nitro unzipped a breast pocket of his leather jacket, pulled out a pocketknife, looked at it for a second, then shoved it back out of view. I swear the guy couldn’t sleep at night if he didn’t have a blade under his pillow. Fallon cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. Kane was finally sitting on his bike, one booted foot tapping the pavement as if it couldn’t stop walking. Breaking the law was a game we knew well, though we didn’t court cops often these days.
Ahead of us, the woman lifted the material into the air. She stayed that way for a heartbeat, making sure everyone saw, then she dropped her arm quickly. The world narrowed as my vision sharpened. Buildings became a blur, engines screaming around me. I shifted through the gears, leaving my thoughts—and the unnamed Omega—behind. There was no place for her right now. There’dneverbe a place for her later.
Each racer carved their path, fighting against one another, and I followed suit, eyes locked ahead.
All that mattered was now.
This moment.
And it belonged to DemonX.
