“Your turn, Alpha.” Foster backs me out of the shower, switching the water off. He presses against my chest, lips molding to mine. His tongue chases the flavor of his release, sweeping into my mouth with a whimper of need.
The sound of my phone ringing interrupts our messy kiss. We freeze, and I am momentarily tempted to ignore it, but Foster decides for me when he pulls back.
Choking down a growl of protest, I step into the bedroom and swipe the device from the top of the dresser. Neither of us is truly comfortable missing the call, not with Foster’s best friend, Omen, in danger. She is an Omega we met through my job at the DAU. She was born Sarah Montgomery, the daughter of a prominent New Hampshire pastor and anti-designation cult leader. When she presented as an Omega at eighteen, we were called in to help her escape. Our agency helped create her new identity as part of our designation protection program, and she’s become a major part of our lives since then.
Unfortunately, someone doxxed her identity to the nation a few days ago, sending her into hiding at one of the DAU’s safe houses. Foster and I have both been on edge since her safety became compromised.
Accepting the call, I send up a silent request to Fate to let our friend be alright. “Hello?”
“Ah, Shepherd, good. I apologize for interrupting your evening and for calling so late, but I need you for an urgent assignment.”
My boss’s voice holds a tight edge that has my instincts on immediate alert. Donovan Griffith is a leader at the DAU. Our agency works in many fields, but my sector specifically covers undercover operations in anti-designation areas. We work our way up in dangerous cults, gathering evidence to bring their leaders to justice. We also help to pull at-risk individuals fromthese areas before the cults can take action against them. The things those assholes do to Alphas and Omegas are horrifying.
“Where do you need me?”
Foster presses closer to my side, and I feel his concern. Wrapping my free arm around his back, I hold him close and send soft reassurance through our bond. He is smothering himself in my scent in case I have to leave for a few days. Given that this is a last-minute assignment, it’s likely an extraction instead of an undercover operation, but how long I am gone depends on where Donovan sends me.
“New Hampshire. Omen’s sister, Hannah, called for an extraction.”
Fuck,that isn’t good.
Glancing down at my Omega, I shudder out a breath. Allowing him to step foot into an anti-designation territory isn’t something I have ever agreed to, not until the DAU has finished dismantling the organizations within them. My decision is partly to protect my mate. If they were to get their hands on him, neither of us would survive it.
He has trauma revolving around these cults. His older brother, Everett, was murdered six years ago. He was an Alpha traveling through a state with known anti-designation ties for work. They caught his scent when he stopped for gas, followed him out of town, and ran him off the road. The aftermath of their brutality left a deep scar on my Omega’s heart.
“Should I bring Foster with me?”
His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. If Hannah Montgomery is running from her birth family, she could be injured. I would rather have him with me in case she needs medical attention. Working at the local hospital as a nurse, he has previously assisted with larger DAU operations by offering care to the victims we rescue.
“I will leave that decision in your hands,” Donovan answers slowly. “We do not know the state she is in, only that she is pregnant and has her four-year-old daughter with her.”
Well, that cements my decision. I nod to Foster, sending him into the closet to get dressed. I listen to the rest of Donovan’s instructions on where to meet Hannah and where to bring them after we get out of the Montgomery cult’s territory.
Less than twenty minutes later, we both climb into my car and prepare to pull out of the parking garage. I double-check that there are spare blankets and bottles of water stashed in the back if we should need them. If they are hungry, we can grab food on our way to the safe house that Donovan wants us to meet him at.
Blowing out a breath, I take Foster’s hand in mine and press my lips to the back of his. “We are going to be extremely cautious,” I promise. “No stops in New Hampshire except to grab Hannah and her daughter outside their motel. In and out, no complications.”
He nods, still looking a little uneasy about our destination, but I can feel his determination in our bond. We will never let a mother and child stay somewhere they may be in danger, even if it means risking ourselves. Especially not the sister and niece of one of our closest friends.
The dash reads nearly four thirty as we roll into the empty parking lot of the Summer Grove Motel in Keene, New Hampshire. Only three cars sit in sight, one of which is a sleek silver SUV parked at the back beneath a row of red maple trees.The interior is dark. No one moves, but I know they are hiding inside. A small, purple-brown stuffed animal rests on the top of the steering wheel, marking the vehicle.
I keep my lights off as I steer across the lot and pull into a spot two down from theirs. Foster glances around nervously, but when no one from the motel opens the door to check who is outside, he lets out a small breath of relief. He turns to me, waiting for instructions on what to do next.
“Text a photo of the two of us to the number Donovan sent.”
Leaving him with my phone in his hand, I cautiously step out of the car. Before Hannah and her daughter can exit their car, I sweep the parking lot, one hand on the gun hidden at my waist. Only when I am sure that no one is lurking nearby do I approach them.
My knuckles tap twice on the passenger window. Several long seconds pass before I see movement inside. A hand grips the door handle, slowly pushing it open. I step back several feet, giving them space to crawl out from under the dark blanket they were hiding under.
Hannah Montgomery is beautiful. Messy in the way stressed-out moms usually are, but that doesn’t diminish the light she radiates. Golden blonde hair piles on her head in a bun, several of the strands falling down to brush against her cheeks. Dark pants cover her long legs, and a peachy sundress falls over her baby bump.
“Hannah?” I ask, immediately wanting to smack myself since I obviously already know who she is.
Her lips curve up into a tight smile, and she nods. “Shepherd?”
Clearing my throat, I glance away from her face. “That’s me. Is there anything in the car we can grab for you?”
The way her head tilts is too damn cute. I shouldnotbe getting hard over the pregnant Beta, currently running awayfrom her abusive family. Hoping the lack of daylight will hide how tight my jeans are, I motion for Foster to climb out. He is better suited for getting this woman situated, and I can focus on moving whatever belongings she has into my car.
