Something cold sparked in her gaze. A ruthlessness that I had never seen from her before. A look that promised destruction.
Pride swelled in my chest as I stilled, watching the scene unfold. Her head snapped up, large doe-eyes finding me. A flash of pure relief appeared in her irises, but her hand never wavered. I saw the raw strength in her stance, the unshakeable resolve in her steady hand.
My omega. Mywifehadn’t just survived. She fought.
And won.
The firestorm that had brewed in my chest settled into arumbling snarl. My strong mate. She hadn’t needed saving. She saved herself.
“Alpha,” she breathed.
“I’m here, mo chroí.”
Thirty-Eight
WILLOW
The sound of the knife hitting the concrete made my heart stutter. Time slowed. My body froze in the contorted position. Rossi’s strangled, agonized gasp echoed off the walls. He fell to the floor, his knees crunching into the stone.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, barely dulling the inferno swirling in my belly. I spun, pebbles digging into my palms. Blood stained Rossi’s teeth, dripping steadily from his broken nose as he groaned, trying to stem the bleeding.
My eyes darted to the forgotten blade, now lying on the floor a few feet away, its gleaming surface catching the flickering light. I hissed, the sting of pain from the rough stone against my knees a minor inconvenience.
All that mattered was the knife. I needed it if I wanted to have a chance of escaping. I scrambled, my fingers brushing over the worn handle. Hope melted away the worry, my muscles sagging.
Yes.
“Stop, Omega,” he barked.
No!
The alpha command slid into the depths of my mind, straightening my spine. I cried out, unwilling to submit to him. Unwilling to allow him that control. I jerked, whining against the guttural order that I refused to obey.
Yet my omega twisted in confusion, fighting against me. My omega wanted—needed—to relinquish to the primal command, but I refused. The poison Rossi fed me spurred on the unnatural heat, betraying my body against me.
However, it also filled me with a strange, fierce determination to fight.
To fight formyalpha.
Rossi barked again, demanding that I stay. Like adog.Any respectful alpha only used their bark in the throes of their omega’s heat, and only to keep them healthy. Most omegas refused to eat or drink during those days, focused only on their alpha’s knot.
Again, Rossi barked a command, spit flying from him and mixing with the dried blood on his face. The bark brushed against my mind, a cold, alien touch, but it didn’t take hold. I simply shoved it aside.
I didn’t obey.
I didn’t freeze.
Instead, the frayed leather hilt of the knife settled in my palm. The weight felt comforting in my hand. My body trembled, but not with fear.
But with resolve. With strength.
I had always thought of myself as a broken thing with a talent for healing other tattered souls.
Even if I was broken, I wasn’t defeated. I would not be the quiet, submissive omega Rossi or my dad expected.
I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the sharp sting of pain behind my eyes. Cramps seized my abdomen as slick slid down my thighs. The points of my teeth dug into my lips, and I squeezed my legs together, willing the ache to go away.
“Aww, poor, weak omega. You’re nothing without an alpha to help you. Come to me. I’ll take care of you,” Rossi cooed, smilingwith blood-stained teeth.
