Page 138 of Faith and Fury

I look up, dazed. The old alpha is shouting wildly, grabbing one of the guards for cover.

There’s another gunshot, and one of the rogues drops.

I blink, suddenly aware of the cold, dead weight that is Hamish. Nausea floods me, convinced I must be covered in blood, but my hands are—impossibly—clean.

Did I just … shoot someone?

Suddenly, over the chaos of motion, I notice a familiar face behind the tattered fence. Fang. All the noise … it must’ve woken him up. He and I-9 search for gaps in the metal, trying to wrench it open.

I try to stand. Can’t. Hamish stares up at me, unseeing.

Oh god. What have I done?

My inner omega takes the wheel, channeling her feral energy into my bones. This time, when I stand, I make it several paces back before slamming into something, or someone, and falling once more.

“Faith!” Fang’s voice tries to reach me, muffled and tinny. “Faith!”

That’s right. I’m here to save him. Like … I promised.

I navigate through the crowd. Some of the rogues are still fighting, whereas others—seeing their fallen compatriots—take cover in the corner. No-one’s touching me though, which makes me realize—I’m still holding a gun.

Right before I make it to the fence, the entire room seems to vibrate. I hear voices, then a strong, commanding tone—telling everyone to get down.

I grip the fence with one hand, the gun in the other.

“Faith,” I see Fang’s lips move. “Put it down. Please, baby, put it down.”

Frowning, I follow his nervous gaze, looking over my shoulder.

Alphas in black armor have flooded the room, pointing guns at the guards and ringleaders. And at the old alpha, who’s gone red in the face from shouting. The rogues are pale and wide-eyed, though I can’t tell if they’re relieved or just in shock.

That’s when I see Caleb.

He’s lowering his gun, walking through the carnage. “Faith …” he says, lowly, “it’s alright. It’s all alright now.”

Unable to help myself, I glance down at Hamish’s lifeless body. The pool of blood around his head. I grip the gun tighter.

“Faith.”

My head snaps up. Jaxon.

He inches in next to Caleb, those amethyst eyes so familiar. I remember the way he looked at me when we first met in the ring. So earnest. So instantly trusting … until he realized what I’d done to K-4.

Now look at what I’ve done.

My eyes fill with tears. I don’t want them to see me like this.

“I had nothing to do with this!” the old alpha’s voice grates out, shaking his fists at the guys in black. “These intruders were on my property, and I—”

My body, fueled by feral power, moves on its own. I aim the gun at his head.

Instantly, there are several more guns pointed back at me. Fang freezes. “Faith,” he pleads, sternly, “the fight’s over.”

They hurt you, I want to sign. They were going to hurt me.

I don’t want to kill anyone else. I know that—I know myself—but I can’t stop this train I’m on. It’s the only thing that’s kept me alive so far. It might be the only thing that will protect my mate.

“She’s feral,” the old alpha splutters, “take her down!”

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