His large body locks in place, then trembles as he tries to resist my bark. Every biological instinct is screaming at him:
She’s just an omega! She doesn’t bark at you! You bark at her!
But he can’t.
He stares, eyes wide as I step closer, and with one hard push from my manicured hand, he falls onto the seat behind him.
“Stay.” My second bark is louder, sharper, and this time, there’s no fight.
His body freezes him in place.
“Serena, you okay, babe?” I don’t take my eyes from the alpha as I ask.
“I was in the taxi, and… I… I just got out, and he was there…”
“The little bitch led me on.” His words are muffled beneath his hands, still clutching his nose, but clear enough to make Serena flinch. “Perfuming on the street like a slut in heat desperate for a knot—”
The blade of my shears presses firmly against the alpha’s throat, cutting off his words and nicking his skin.
He gawks, outraged. “What thefuckdo you think you’re—”
“Silence.” My loudest bark yet, and with it, his hands fall away, revealing the bright bloody smear covering his clamped lips that wiggle with the urge to speak.
But he can’t.
“These shears…” My eyes dart to them. “They’re expensive. The best in the business. Sharp. They won’t just cut through hair. They glide through skin, cartilage, maybe even bone.” I shrug.
The alpha’s eyes grow larger as I push on the blade, causing a thin trickle of blood to leak down his throat.
I lower my voice to a whisper. “But I sure as hell know they’d be able to cut through a tongue. So I suggest you keep yours from wagging, unless you want to lose it.”
Is the threat necessary? No.
But the look of genuine distress when he finally accepts that he’s been outdone by a female omega…
Sofucking worth it.
Unfortunately, there’s no tongue cutting.
With the help of my team, we find some restraints in the form of wires from old straighteners. As I finish the final knot, I let out a deep breath and make the dreaded phone call.
Literal minutes pass, and we’ve got a whole police squad lined up outside, including two ambulances. Wouldn’t be surprised if the fire brigade turned up next. Maybe SWAT, too.
The revolving glass doors to my salon spin, and then in storms the chief of police.
Rowan Monroe.
An alpha.
My older brother.
“Revea.” He looks at me first, his gaze severe, analytical, searching for any sign of injury, before turning to the alpha whose mouth is now duct taped shut, crusted with blood.
He whirls back to me, his tone much, much lower. “Revea. What did you—”
“Listen, before you start, Ro. Everything is fine.” I move towards him with a thin smile. “I’m fine, Serena’s being checked over by the medic right now, and that piece of shit deserved everything I did. And more.”
Said piece of shit glares my way. I pat my leather side pouch, home to my shears, with a rueful smile.
