Page 28 of Faith and Fury

“Omega,” my head alpha barks, “stop!”

With a short gasp, Faith stills. Her glossy eyes tremble. Paralyzed.

“Gently,” I croak as Jaxon lifts her off of me. “It–it’s not her fault.”

Caleb hoists me to my feet. He quickly scans me for injury, pinching my jaw to check my face from all angles. “Sit,” he growls, “I’ll get you some ice.”

“I’m fine. Faith, she—”

In my peripheral vision, Faith reaches feebly toward the window. She’s still in Jaxon’s arms, immobilized, but her eyes glisten with longing. Right when I think my heart can’t clench any tighter … a single tear rolls down her cheek.

“Omega,” Jaxon gasps as Faith’s knees give out.

The two of them sink to the floorboards, Faith trembling with each silent sob.

Nudging my head alpha aside, I go to them. Jaxon has his arms wrapped around Faith’s waist, her back to his chest. I move her hair off her face. Letting the tears run freely.

I don’t know what we’re missing, or what about the window is so important, but it doesn’t matter. This isn’t about me.

This is about Faith.

In the last remaining hours before her heat.

Chapter Sixteen

Faith

The cells are hot tonight. I tell myself the fans must be broken, but my inner omega knows better.

In the next block over, someone groans. Definitely one of the omegas.

“Go back to sleep,” Fang murmurs, draping his arm over me.

But I’m not the only one getting antsy. The entire arena seems to be on edge, fussing and fidgeting in their sleep.

I roll over, and Fang’s eyes creak open. “Faith,” he whispers, “sleep.”

The words are so sweet, so soothing, that I’m almost tempted to just give in. But then I hear that groan again, followed by heavy breathing.

I sign, Someone’s sick.

Fang sighs. “Probably L-7. She’s been throwing up for days.”

That may be true, but it still doesn’t explain this feeling. Like something rising up inside of me, hot and urgent. The only thing that comes close to it is … is …

My breath catches. I think she’s going into heat.

Fang scowls. This time he also chooses to sign: That’s impossible.

No-one’s gone into heat or rut down here since … ever. We’ve never known exactly why. Never had the energy left over to question it. Even so, my inner omega can sense a shift in the air.

Maybe it’s L-7’s groaning, or the way the other rogues respond—shying away, inching closer—but I find myself pawing at Fang’s chest. Mate. My mate, my omega purrs.

“Faith,” he whispers, even softer now.

No-one’s watching us, I want to tell him. All eyes are on L-7.

And it’s not like it’d be the first time.

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