Page 28 of Shattered Omega

It took me a moment to find my voice, and by his expression, he’d gathered exactly what was in my hand.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, voice weak.

I knew, of course. I’d read the words a dozen times already, and I was equal parts elated and… well, fucking furious.“Ah.” Dusk cleared his throat, palming the back of his neck. “Well… A uh… technicality.”

I blinked.

The leaf of paper slid from my fingers and onto the island with a swoosh.

The world bled crimson, elation snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

What had he just said?

“A technicality?”

Dusk opened his mouth, then closed again, and his face, at least, had the decency to drain of colour.

“I… shit. I didn’t mean it like that.”

TEN

UMBRA

“What the hell is going on?” Ransom’s voice was groggy as he kicked the duvet away. We’d been woken sharply from sleep by a loud clanging and shattering from down the hall, and a spike of emotion in the bond.

“Fuck,” Ransom groaned. “We just cleaned everything up.”

It took me two bleary seconds to realise that neither Shatter nor Dusk were in the bed. It took another to realise I was feeling a spike of what could only be described as nerves from Dusk in the bond.

I sat up straight, on high alert.

Anything that made Dusk worry was worth worrying about. That was before the other half hit me in full force.

Ransom was wide-eyed at my side as he tucked messy strands of auburn hair behind his ear. “What on earth is that?”

“That,” I said, staggering out of bed with perhaps a little too much anticipation and sliding on my slippers, “is a really, really pissed off omega.”

She must be pissed if Dusk was sheepish in the bond—I hadn’t even known that was a feeling in his arsenal.

What the hell had he done?

Sure enough, when Ransom and I reached the living room, it was to find chaos. Shatter was climbing cupboards while sailors’ curses flew from her lips. She was, it seemed, searching for weapons to launch at Dusk, who was standing halfway across the room, hands up defensively. Half the cupboard of glasses had been first, if the glass across the kitchen floor was anything to go by.

“Shatter, we can talk about this?—”

“Shit!” I cut him off, diving for the kitchen—those cupboards definitely weren’t built to take the weight of a full—Yup!

The hinges screeched, breaking, and I caught her in my arms just in time. I set her down, extracting her from the door that had almost killed her, but she was unperturbed, already launching herself toward Dusk in a furor.

“What’s going on?” Ransom asked, looking dumbstruck.

“Talk?” Shatter demanded of Dusk, completely ignoring the question. “Fuck you—!” She began, but yelped when I caught her by the waist again, the cupboard door barely set down.

The floor…

Shit.

I lifted her, my slippers immune to the glass currently scattering the kitchen tiles. Shatter, on the other hand, with a night dress and bare feet… I grabbed a knife along the way and dumped her over the back of the couch where she’d be fully safe from cupboard doors and shards of glass cutting her precious skin to pieces.

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