The engine’s growl is the only warning before the truck surges forward. Shade grips the wheel, spinning it with practiced skill as he high-tails us out of Rheamont.
The metallic ping of bullets hitting the vehicle is loud, and my ears are ringing. Through the thick plated glass window, the world outside is a blur of fire, bodies, and retreating shadows.
My thigh is soaked in blood, hot and pulsing. The hole in my leg burns as if it's trying to brand me from the inside out. I can feel every jolt of the wheels like a punch to my nervous system.
I sneak a glance at the others. They're sitting with straight spines and clenched muscles. The tension in the truck is thick, like it has its own palpable heartbeat.
Something inside me pulls tight. It’s achingly familiar.
The bond.
It’s not fully repaired, and certainly not glowing gold or anything dramatic, but it’s humming. Present.
I want someone to say something. Anything. For Shade to call me baby girl. To ask how I’ve been.
But no one does.
The silence makes the pleasant hum of the bond morph into an ache.
Viper pokes my leg.
“Ouch, mother-fracker!” I shriek before I get a firm bite on my lower lip to catch any further cuss words.
He huffs and examines the injury.
Omegas don't heal as fast as Alphas or even Betas, but I'll be fine after a few days of bed rest.... except—
“Woah,” I breathe. The wound has almost stopped bleeding, and the edges are knitting back together.
I’ve never recovered this fast.
I know without a doubt it's happened because our Pack is back together.
Well, not together, but close enough to smell them loud and clear, even beneath the scent of combat.
Shade’s dark chocolate and pine. Knox’s ink and spices. Viper’s gunpowder and roses. Blaze’s smoke and charcoal.
It smells likehome.
My gaze flicks to the others. Shade focused behind the wheel, Blaze hunched in the front seat pointing directions erratically with a grin stitched on, and Knox slumped and bloodied but still right there beside me. Unwavering.
Viper’s palm braces my jaw, forcing me to meet his stare.
I swallow and my eyelashes flutter.
His Blood Lust has receded, and the veins at his temple are faint pink lines. His vivid green eyes are as lovely as I remember.
Viper’s hand lingers on my face.
He doesn’t speak, just studies me like I’m some specimen under glass, as if he’s looking for proof that I’m real, or that I’mstill the same girl who used to sit beside him between training sessions and steal his protein bars.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek.
I almost shatter.
It’s barely a touch. Soft enough to pass for accidental, but it isn’t.
My instincts surge, all yearning and need. The bond flares like a muscle flexing beneath the skin.
