Page 104 of Shattered Omega

“What the hell…?” Flynn hissed.

“They’re…” Eric’s voice was weak as he tried to pick himself up. “Flynn… it’s… 66.”

Flynn’s eyes bugged out as he looked back at us, and he shook his head.

“Not possible.”

“Where is she?” I asked.

“This isn’t about her,” Gareth hissed back, staring between us as if he wasn’t sure who to aim it at.

“This is only about her,” Umbra snarled, aura flaring. His scent was an iron tang in the air as his fury rose.

“Then drop the gun,” Flynn said. “Mord has orders to snap her in two if anything happens to us.”

Did he think that would be enough to make me drop it?

I felt Umbra’s eyes shift to me, wondering what I’d do. But I knew Flynn wouldn’t risk harming her. He needed her. He was, however, more of a threat than even he knew, both to me and Umbra. One touch, and he could destroy us, and there was no telling if this time, it wouldn’t end in our death.

I turned the gun, letting go of the trigger. Not because I believed their threat, but because I needed them with their guards down.

Flynn looked pleased as I lowered the gun to the floor.

“You should be dead…” Flynn said, words faint as if he couldn’t quite believe it, but I could see, at last, the flicker of recognition in his eyes, as if he were finally matching us with the malnourished, broken alphas he’d once placed bets on through a video stream.

The alpha in me was howling at the restraint I needed to maintain, at the fact that I couldn’t lunge for them with my aura out.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go near him.

Not like this, anyway.

As I stood, my other hand slipped into my pocket as I slowly drew out the small vial Decebal had given me. One sharp prick and the drug would be in my system.

And then, I would be able to touch him.

After that, I didn’t know.

Cleaving took three strokes of an iron, but this was a vile drug, one with unpredictable outcomes, banned from public use, that emulated the first two.

It would sever me from the pack enough that Flynn shouldn’t be untouchable. But I wouldn’t be cleaved entirely. It would give the pack a chance to escape and make a plan even if the worst happened. Because Decebal had been worried about the effects it would have on my body, but Umbra had survived worse.

Now it was my turn.

SHATTER

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Something was wrong—even in the bond.

Mord had me by the arm and was dragging me down a dim, grimy hallway. He didn’t answer, checking around the next corner, gun in his hand before he tugged me with him.

“Why did you come back for me?” I asked. “I thought you were splitting up and looking for Eric.”

“I don’t trust they aren’t waiting for me to leave you,” he said.

The bond felt empty. Too quiet. Even Dusk was gone, like we were all afraid of going into it and revealing what was happening. Sometimes I felt a flash from one of them, disturbing moments that were making me begin to panic.

I shook it away, gathering myself. This was all going wrong, and I was losing what little control I’d gained.

---