No.
My body doesn’t respond to the command. I’ve gone rigid, frozen, my lungs refusing to draw breath. The crowd continuesto flow around us, oblivious to the tableau playing out in their midst.
“Whoa, hey.” Aaron’s voice sounds far away. “Just trying to be friendly. No need to be a little bitch about it.”
Move, I tell myself.Say something. Do something.
But I can’t.
I’m paralyzed. Trapped. The same way I was trapped then, the same helplessness flooding through me, the same?—
“That’s enough.”
I rip my arm free at the same moment a solid presence materializes at my back. My shoulder blades connect with a broad chest that smells like leather.
Dom.
“She’s not interested,” he says, voice calm despite the look of pure violence on his face. “Walk away.”
Aaron’s expression flickers through surprise, irritation and then something darker.
“Romano.” The name comes out flat. “Should’ve known you’d be sniffing around. What is it with you and getting in my business?”
“Your business has concluded. She declined your offer. Time for you to walk away.”
Judah appears on Aaron’s other side, having somehow circled around without the bikers noticing. His jaw set in a line that transforms his usually gentle features into something hard and uncompromising.
“Funny,” Aaron says, and his smile has gone ugly. “That omega doesn’t smell mated to me. Must be my mistake.”
“Also none of your business,” Judah replies, his voice a low rumble.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Aaron takes a step closer, squaring up. “Used to be, omegas knew not to parade themselvesaround like something good enough to eat unless they wanted someone to take a bite.”
Dom’s hand settles on my hip, drawing me slightly behind him. The touch is protective rather than possessive, creating a barrier between me and the bikers.
“Something for you to keep in mind,” Dom says quietly. “Rabid dogs get put down when they bite.”
The tension ratchets up another notch. Aaron’s companions have shifted closer, their postures broadcasting readiness for a fight. I can feel Dom’s muscles coiling beneath his shirt, ready to spring.
“We can finish what we started at the bar anytime,” Aaron growls. “Just say the word.”
“Happy to oblige.” Dom doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch, but somehow the threat radiating off him intensifies. “But not here. Not now. And not in front of her.”
I realize, with a start, that Mason and Atticus have appeared as well. They flank our little group, their presence completing a protective formation that boxes me in on all sides.
Aaron’s gaze sweeps over our assembled numbers. His lips thin.
Then, slowly, he takes a step back.
“Another time, then.” His eyes find mine, and the promise in them makes my skin crawl. “I’ll be looking forward to next time. See you then, Phoenix.”
I shiver in fearful reaction as Aaron melts into the crowd, the other bikers trailing behind him. Within moments, they’ve disappeared entirely, swallowed by the festival masses like they were never there at all.
The tension bleeds slowly out of the air.
“Are you okay?” Mason is at my side immediately, hands hovering without quite touching. “Phoenix, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “He didn’t—he just grabbed my arm. I’m fine.”
