Page 66 of Faith and Fury

It’s only when I put weight on my bad ankle that the rest of the world comes swarming back in. Ears ringing. Blood swirling. My very bones sharp with pain.

Caleb’s eyes widen. He catches me before I can fall, pulling me into his chest.

“Omega,” he says, softer now. “Where are you hurt? Show me.”

My own injuries are the least of my concern. I search over Caleb’s shoulder. Maverick, I sign. He just frowns at me. I snarl, pointing. Maverick!

“He’s gonna be fine,” Caleb assures me, finally catching on. He holds the side of my face, stroking my jaw with his thumb. “Paramedics are on their way, but we need to get you both topside.”

Fine? There’s no way Maverick is—

I look again, my eyes just about falling out of their sockets when I see Maverick grunting to his feet.

I push away from Caleb, limping frantically to stop him. Don’t move! I sign. That shot—that wound—he’s lucky he hasn’t bled out!

“Easy, kitten,” Maverick laughs, steadying me as I reach him. I scan him up and down, searching for the wound. Maybe the bullet passed clean through.

I put my hands on his chest. He’s … solid. Even more than I expected.

“Goddamn.” His breath shudders, eyes flickering down at me. “At least let me take your dinner first.”

My mind reels, flabbergasted, before it finally sinks in.

I pound my fist against Maverick’s front—the thick vest beneath his shirt thudding securely. He hisses.

“Watch the Kevlar, sweetness. Still tender.”

He’s okay. He’s really okay. I was so certain I’d killed him, already wondering how I’d explain myself to his family. Would I have written it down? Stood next to an interpreter? Or maybe I’d have cut and run.

At last, I’m out of adrenaline. My body sags into his arms. I don’t fight him as he catches me, or as he sweeps me up. The pain in my ankle—in my head—swarms into focus.

A loud growl echoes through the tunnel.

Weakly, I look over Maverick’s shoulder to find Jaxon racing toward us, a handful of RDF alphas on his tail.

“Faith!” he roars.

The last thing I’m aware of before my vision slips away is his scent. Finding me—finding himself—imprinted on my body.

My inner omega preening as I descend into blackness.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Jaxon

They’re being too rough. All those hands—alphas, betas, I don’t know—touching my omega.

The paramedics don’t let me into the ambulance. Only Caleb gets the go-ahead, clambering after Faith’s stretcher.

“She was limping,” he explains. “Plus possible trauma to her right ear—there’s blood.”

My chest tightens, unsure if I’m about to growl or retch.

The ambulance doors slam closed. I’m fully prepared to sprint after them when the second ambulance catches my eye, revealing a broody Maverick perched over the bumper. One of the paramedics is wrapping gauze around his naked chest. He’s bruised, or starting to, but otherwise unhurt.

Which is more than I can say for the alpha behind him.

Seeing me approach, Maverick explains, “Found him in the tunnels. Well, Faith did.”

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