Page 109 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

In the quiet of the night, as Aria’s breathing evens out into sleep, I find myself wide awake, my mind racing. The events of the day replay in my head—the pack meeting, the argument, my unexpected role as mediator, and now this incredible moment with Aria. It’s almost too much to process.

I think about how far we’ve come as a pack and how much we’ve grown individually and together. The challenges we’ve faced have forged us into something stronger, something unbreakable, and yet, nagging doubt creeps in. Have Aria and I inadvertently created a new weakness for Noah to exploit?

I push the thought away, focusing instead on the warmth of Aria’s body against mine and the soft sound of her breathing. Our bond isn’t just our strength—it’s Noah’s worst nightmare.

As sleep finally begins to claim me, I hold Aria a little tighter. Tomorrow will bring new challenges and fears, but for now, everything is perfect, and that’s enough.

47

ARIA

I stepout of the salon two hours early, the sharp scent of hair products clinging to my clothes like a second skin. The cool evening air hits my face, a welcome relief after a long day of work.

Logically, I know I should call one of the guys and let them know I’m done early, but a part of me wants to just enjoy a moment of independence.

Neon signs flicker to life around me, painting the street in a kaleidoscope of colors. I pause, letting the city’s rhythm wash over me—the steady hum of traffic, snippets of conversation, and the distant wail of a siren. For a moment, I’m just another person heading home after work, not an omega in hiding.

It’s a dangerous thought, and I quickly shake it off.

I inhale deeply, letting the fresh breeze clear my head. That’s when I sense a shift in the air, a sudden absence of the usual city smells. My heart kicks into overdrive, adrenaline flooding my system.

Before I can react, strong arms grab me from behind. I open my mouth to scream, but a cloth is pressed against my face. The sickly sweet odor invades my nostrils, and the world spins, my vision blurring as I struggle against the encroaching darkness.

As the cloth presses harder, panic surges through me like wildfire. Memories of past captivity flash before my eyes, threatening to paralyze me. I see Noah’s sneering face, feel chains on my wrists, and remember the suffocating darkness of isolation, but beneath the fear, a new feeling rises—determination. I’m not the same helpless omega I once was.

Not even close.

I fight with every ounce of strength I have. I claw at my attacker’s arms, feeling skin tear beneath my fingertips. My feet kick wildly, connecting with something solid. I hear a grunt of pain—a small victory, but it’s not enough. The drug is too strong, and I feel myself slipping away.

Fight, Aria, Fight.I swear I hear Aunt Sara in my head.

But it’s fruitless.

As consciousness fades, I focus all my energy on one final act. I rip the charm from my bracelet—a gift from Quinn—and let it fall to the ground. The small metal heart feels cold against my palm before it slips away. It’s not much, but it’s something. A clue. Hope.

Quinn’s face flashes in my mind—his warm smile and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. “You’re stronger than you know, Aria,” he told me once. I cling to those words as darkness claims me.

I wake to the rumble of an engine and the sensation of movement. My head pounds, and my mouth is dry, tasting of chemicals. Slowly, carefully, I open my eyes. I’m in the back of a van, the metal floor cold and unyielding beneath me. My hands and feet are bound, the coarse rope chafing against my skin.

Fear threatens to overwhelm me, but I force it down, swallowing the acidic taste of panic. I’m not the same omega I was before. The old Aria would have crumbled by now and given in to despair, but my pack has shown me my own strength.

I close my eyes, picturing each of them. I remember the way Malachi placed his hand on my shoulder after a particularly grueling training session, his touch grounding me.

“You’re part of this pack, Aria,” he said. “And we protect our own.”

Zane’s intensity comes to mind next, as does the fire in his eyes when he vowed to protect me. I can almost feel the heat of his body as he showed me how to break a chokehold, his voice low and fierce in my ear.

“You’re not prey anymore, Aria. You’re a predator. Remember that.”

Dash’s infectious laughter echoes in my memory. I think of the night he coaxed me out of a panic attack, distracting me with terrible jokes until I laughed through my tears.

“That’s it, sparkles,” he said, grinning. “Can’t let the bastards see you sweat, right?”

They have all become part of me, their strength flowing through our pack bond. Noah has no idea what he’s up against.

I strain my ears, trying to catch any useful information from my captors’ conversation over the hum of the engine and the crunch of gravel under tires.

“…boss wants her unharmed,” one of them says, his voice gruff and low. “Says she’s too valuable to damage.”

---