Trudy and I are on the couch, Damien sprawled between us. She’s been quiet today, shaken by the photo of her with the guys resurfacing. She picks at the blanket across her lap, and I feel partly guilty because the photo they found of her and the guys on social media wouldn’t have been brought up if Louis weren’t being such an asshole.
“None of this is your fault,” I tell her quietly.
She gives me a tight smile. “I know, and I’m fine, really. Just a bit shaken, which I’m sure you are too.”
Damien trills and headbutts my arm, demanding attention, and I scratch behind his ears.
That’s when the doorbell rings.
“I’ve got it,” I call toward the kitchen. Brody nods, knuckles deep in dough.
I cross the living room, into the hallway, and open the front door.
The man filling my doorstep blocks the porch light entirely. Cropped dark hair, heavy jaw, a leather jacket stretched across shoulders that belong on a building, not a human. His eyes are flat and scanning past me into the hallway before I’ve processed his face. I have no idea who he is.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Trudy.” The words are clipped, stripped of pleasantry. “I’m Kristian.”
My stomach drops through my body and keeps going.
“She doesn’t want?—”
He moves through me, his shoulder nudging me aside, and I’m thrown sideways, my hip smacking against the hallway wall, and wince while he strides past me into the living room.
“TRUDY!” His roar fills every room in the house, bouncing off walls and ceilings, and from the couch, I hear Trudy’s scream.
“Jakob! Corey! Kristian just charged into the house!” I yell, pushing myself off the wall, terror clamping around my insides.
Everything happens at once.
Brody rounds the corner from the kitchen, flour on his arms, his expression shifting from confusion to something primal and unrecognizable in a fraction of a second. Corey and Jakob explode from the studio hallway, both already moving with the coordinated speed of men who’ve been waiting for a threat and finally found one.
Kristian stands over the couch where Trudy is curled against the armrest, Damien bristling on the cushion between them, and is reaching for her arm when Corey strikes a fist into his ribs.
The impact drives them both into the bookshelf. Books cascade to the floor. Corey has Kristian’s collar in both fists and slams him against the wall. Kristian throws an elbow that catches Corey’s jaw, but Corey doesn’t let go, just absorbs it and drives a knee into Kristian’s thigh.
“You came into my home,” Corey snarls. “You’re so fucking dead.”
Brody’s there in a second, pinning Kristian’s arm, and Jakob grabs the other wrist and wrenches it behind his back with immense strength. Kristian’s groaning, his face twisted.
“Trudy!” He’s thrashing between them, his face pressed against the wall, blood from his lip across his cheek. “Come back to me! It’s killing me without you. Why would you do this?”
Trudy’s on her feet, shaking violently, and tears are streaming down her face. Her hands are balled against her chest. “You can’t be here,” she chokes. “I can’t be with you. Please, Kristian, please just go. We’re over.”
“You’re MINE!” The word erupts from his chest like a bark. It’s deep, resonant, the Alpha command that bypasses an Omega’s brain and speaks directly to her biology. The sound vibrates through the room, and I feel it in my bones, a pull that isn’t aimed at me but registers anyway, and Trudy’s body jolts as if she’s been shocked.
“No!” She’s screaming, her legs carrying her forward against her will, her face twisted in agony, and I rush to her side, grab her around the waist, and hold on.
“Don’t listen to it, Trudy. Fight it. Stay with me.”
“It’s like my body isn’t mine…”
Jakob’s fist connects with Kristian’s gut. Trudy and I stumble backward and crash onto the couch. Jakob follows with a second hit to the jaw that snaps Kristian’s head sideways. Blood sprays from his mouth, and his legs buckle. Brody and Corey hold him up by his arms.
“She said no.” Jakob’s voice is terrifying. “And you will never go near her again.”
They drag him down the hallway. I don’t see what happens outside because I’m with Trudy, her body collapsed against mine, her face buried in my shoulder, her sobs so violent they’re shaking us both. Damien has positioned himself against us, his back arched, eyes on the hallway, his tail puffed to twice its normal size, trilling with a pitch I’ve never heard from him. Guarding.
