Page 4 of Faith and Fury

Judging by my head alpha’s meaningful look, he doesn’t miss the sarcasm.

We pull up at the address. It doesn’t look like much—just another abandoned pharmaceutical factory—but I’ve done enough raids to know these fuckers can be hiding anywhere. Often where we least expect it.

All doubts aside, I slip out of the SUV with my guard up.

A flock of NCPD cars crowd the building, including a couple SWAT vans. Caleb and I are the only two representatives from the RDF, which means we’ll be running point.

We sweep the ground floor, weapons first. Nothing but empty benches and chipped test tubes.

Caleb jerks his head, indicating a hatch in the floorboards. It’s a little dislodged, like someone went down in a hurry. Must’ve been a scout.

Guess they heard us coming.

My heart finally kicks into gear. This is it. After months of intel and dud raids, we’ve finally found the heart of these bastards’ operation. And then, more sourly, I realize, Maverick’s never gonna let me live this down.

We burst down the stairs, a whole fleet of cops at our heels, shouting into the crowd.

“NCPD! Everybody down!”

Holy fuck. There’s gotta be at least thirty alphas in here, not counting the ringleaders on the next floor down—scattering like sewer rats. This place is huge. It probably used to be a storehouse, but has since been converted to an underground arena—complete with stands, cells, and a fighting ring.

That’s when I see her.

Smack bang in the center of the ring, a half-dressed omega with jet-black hair and fierce blue eyes catches her breath. She’s bloody all over, the red somehow extra striking against her pale flesh.

My inner alpha twinges. Is that her blood?

SWAT follows me and Caleb down the next flight of stairs, rounding up the ringleaders. Guess that just leaves the rogues.

“Jaxon,” Caleb orders, “get to the ring.”

“On it,” I respond.

The ring is enclosed by tall metal fencing, barbed at the top, giving the perfect birds-eye view to audience members above. The padlock snaps free with one well-placed strike. I venture inside with my hands up.

“Hey, there,” I say. “You’re safe now.”

The black-haired omega seems to be guarding something. Her eyes are more animal than human, glaring at me with lethal intensity.

Oh, shit—there’s a second omega, unconscious, tucked behind her. Even bloodier than she is.

Hang on … A chill runs up my spine. Could she be dangerous?

Just as the thought crosses my mind, she lunges at me.

“Woah!” I grab her arms. “Hey. Omega—hey!”

Nowhere near as strong as me, but with enough determination to make up for it, it’s only a matter of time before she breaks free.

“Christ,” I cough. “Take it easy!”

It’s no use. She’s feral, or damn close to it. My gut sinks. I’ve trained for this—I know that, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

The omega leaps at me again. I grab her by the shoulders and tower over her until I’m all she can see.

“Omega,” I bark—my inherent alpha command, “that’s enough.”

Her body stiffens for a couple seconds, resisting, before her inner omega gives in. She turns slack, staring up at me helplessly.

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