Page 31 of Fallen Omega

His hair’s wild, the curls tangled both from my punch andher fingers.

A sharp, hot pain lances through me. But I don’t move, blocking her from him.

“Move, Dante.”

“Speak to me like that again, and I’ll make you wish for death.”

We glare at each other and then he lowers his gaze. We both know I’m not killing him.

Maybe I’ll rough him up some more, but killing him? Nah.

Especially not over a fucking girl.

“I didn’t hurt her. That prick sitting with her at the bar?” he says. “He did.”

I lean down over him. “Whatever they want to do, let them do it. She got fucking drunk. She clearly came here looking to scratch her little omega itch.” I lower my voice. “She might be a Council plant.”

“She isn’t.”

“You know this how? You’re somehow plugged into the net with your brain power?”

“No, you ass,” he says. “The dude drugged her and tried to rape her. I stopped him.”

I stare at Knight.

The guy’s young, wild, and sometimes he lets his unruliness out along with the chip on his shoulder. But he’s good. He fits. He’s not a raping asshole. He’s got a hero complex, so he’s not even a “coercing a girl” kind of guy.

Shit, he doesn’t have to be.

They fall all over themselves for him, over all of us, I guess, but the pussy he’s offered, he usually takes. And a lot of that’s young, early twenties pussy. The pussy attached to ideals and dreams, and melts like hot butter for him.

So, for him to be all over a drugged girl, even one who…yeah, okay, was getting off on him like sex had just been invented, is out of character.

Just like the whole evening.

Which makes me wonder if Reaper’s wrong and she’s got something to hide.

I’ll put this idiot on it. But first… “Get inside and send out Julien and Darcy. And open the basement door. Then get me everything on Lizette Roth.”

He opens his mouth, then shakes his head like he thinks better of speaking back. Knight gets to his feet and hightails it out of there.

I sigh, turning to the girl.

Her dress is hiked high and in the moonlight, her thighs catch a silvery gleam from her wetness. And…fuck. Her panties are twisted so pretty, wet pink petals show.

I’m not fucking touching her.

No way.

But I do use her name.

“Lizette?” I tug down her dress. “We’re going to put you up for the night, let you sleep it off.”

“I don’t…” Her voice is slurred and irritation and anger knife through me again.

Fucking Knight. He could have just kept his mouth and hands to himself. Drugged, drunk?—

“I don’t want to stay here,” she says, those mesmerizing eyes on me.

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