Page 4 of Nightmare Island

As Sten slips beneath the surface, the spirits start swarming toward me. My last coherent thought is a grim satisfaction that if I’m going down, at least I’m taking that bastard with me.

The taste of copper floods my mouth. My lungs ache, each breath a struggle.

Around me, the wolves and the old man stare in shock. But I don’t have time to worry about them when my strength fades fast, the sharp ache rattling through my head and my chest.

I feel myself slipping away, yet I keep fighting to get out of the pool. Still, I ponder about why I have no regrets, even on my dying breaths. Only hatred, only anger.

Faces flash before me—my so-called family back in Denmark. The sneers, the disgust, the final look of contempt as they exiled me out of our home. They never saw me as a son, only as a mistake.

I have no regrets because there was nothing to regret. No love lost, no bonds broken. They threw away a wolf who could’ve been loyal, who could’ve been strong for them.

Instead, they’ll live with the knowledge that they created the very monster they feared.

Chapter

One

HEL

My husband, Jarl, is dead.

Those words echo through my head, but I feel nothing. No grief. No heartache. Just confusion and a bubbling anger about everything he put me through.

I shift in my seat on the jet as the lights flicker. Around me are other Omegas, all of us lost and being taken to freedom. I’m finally going to Savage Sector in Romania to meet up with my brother, Ragnar. I’m ready to put the past behind me, yet my husband’s sudden death doesn’t leave me.

One minute, Jarl and I had arrived in Bariloche Sector because he decided he’d had enough of my smart mouth. Enough of me. Evidently, being raised to stand up for yourself and speak your mind doesn’t make for a submissive little Omega wife. So the asshole brought me to the sector to trade me in for a more tolerable Omega.

I clench my teeth because, as much as I hated him, the ache of rejection by such a monster still stings. Four years of hell, and he was ready to get rid of me. Then chaos erupted at Bariloche Sector—explosions, panicked voices, screams—and suddenly, these new Alphas appeared, telling me that Jarl wasdead, and they were taking me away. Offering me a safe passage to wherever I wanted to go.

Too good to be true, right? Yet here we are on the plane, and I’m praying it’s not some big hoax.

An explosive boom of thunder sends the entire plane into a shudder, and I grasp the seat in front of me. Someone whimpers nearby, and I quickly glance out my window just in time to witness lightning split the night sky, way too close for comfort.

Is it me? Did I do this?

I try to slow my breathing, counting backward from ten. Thing is, I’m probably a little broken. Okay, a lot broken. And I have an ability where my emotions can influence and sometimes straight up ignite storms.

When we took off, the sky was clear of clouds. Now look at it. It’s hell out there.

Great job, Hel. Get angry while you’re thousands of feet in the air, and you can plummet to your death.

The plane drops suddenly, and my heart launches into my throat. More gasps and cries echo through the cabin. Then things are calm again, yet my knees are bouncing wildly.

Another lightning strike illuminates the sky, brighter this time, and images of my past flash back to a stormy night in Denmark.

I’d baked for Jarl once, early on in our forced marriage. When I still thought I could make it work, like some stupid fairy tale. He came home in one of his moods, face thunderous. The cake hit the wall first, then me. I woke up hours later with a splitting headache and found him waiting for me with his belt in hand. It seems that rather than a fairy tale, I’d ended up marrying the devil.

My hands curl into fists when the plane bucks again.

At the front of the cabin, Enrique, one of the Alphas who rescued us, emerges from the cockpit, looking decidedlyunhappy. Great. That’s exactly what you want to see on one of your pilot’s faces.

“I-I hate storms,” the honey blonde across the aisle whispers, her knuckles white on the armrest.

I reach across, barely able to reach her in this tiny jet, placing my hand over hers to comfort her. “It’s going to be all right, I’m sure.”

“You don’t sound too confident yourself.”

I shrug, drawing my hand back, and stare at the rain hitting the window sideways.

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