Page 179 of Hard Knot

My hand instinctively brushes against my pocket, where another threatening letter sits folded and hidden. I haven't told them about the new ones. After Felix spent so much time analyzing the first letter only to come up empty, it seems pointless to worry them with more.

They're just letters,I remind myself, pushing harder against the incline.Words on paper from someone too cowardly to face me directly.

The viral video has made me some kind of symbol—the forgotten Omega who refused to stay forgotten. With that kind of attention comes backlash, I know that. But between my own growing confidence and the pack's constant presence...

My thoughts screech to a halt as I crest the hill.

There, maybe fifty yards ahead, a figure stands motionless on the trail. They're dressed entirely in black, face obscured by a mask that looks like something out of a horror movie.

I stop dead in my tracks, my heart rate picking up for reasons that have nothing to do with exercise.

Well, shit.

My phone's already in my hand before I can think twice about it, finger-swiping to unlock and pulling up the camera.

The shot is quick and blurry, but clear enough to show the masked creep standing there like some reject from a slasher film.

I hit send to the pack group chat, labeled"Elizabeth's Groveling Simps".

Carter's idea, naturally.

The moment my thumb taps the screen, the figure lurches into motion, charging toward me with surprising speed.

"Fuck me sideways," I mutter, already spinning on my heel and launching into a sprint.

The path blurs beneath my feet as I push myself harder, grateful for all those endless hours of dance conditioning. I can outrun this asshole—I know I can. But Hard Knot is still a good fifteen minutes away, and while my pack might be overprotective to the point of insanity, they haven't mastered teleportation yet.

Though I'm sure Felix is working on it.

A fork in the path appears ahead, and I make a split-second decision to veer left. Maybe I can lose him in the denser part of the woods, use the terrain to my advantage?—

My foot catches on something—a root, a rock, who knows—and suddenly I'm airborne. The world spins in a kaleidoscope of autumn colors before I crash into a pile of leaves, my breath whooshing out in a surprised gasp.

"Son of a bitch!" I scramble to turn over, leaves clinging to my hair and clothes as I face my pursuer.

The masked man is closing in fast, but I'm already up, dropping into the fighting stance Holmes has drilled into meover countless post-dance training sessions. My heart pounds, but my hands are steady as I prepare to show this creep exactly what happens when you mess with an Omega who's tired of being fucked with.

The crack of a gunshot splits the air.

I flinch instinctively, but the bullet wasn't meant for me. The masked man jerks to a stop, and I watch in horrified fascination as a perfect red hole appears in the center of his forehead. He drops to his knees like a puppet with cut strings before toppling sideways into the scattered leaves.

My breath comes in sharp gasps as I stare at the body, my mind struggling to process what just happened. Then a rustle of movement draws my attention back toward the trees.

A figure emerges from the shadows, and my world tilts on its axis.

Long orange hair catches the filtered sunlight like a living flame. Striking greenish-blue eyes survey the scene with professional detachment, set in a face I never thought I'd see again. Her magenta-pink tank top stands out against the autumn colors like a deliberate taunt and the low-rise jeans hug curves I remember all too well, now marked with scars I don't recognize.

My voice comes out as barely more than a whisper, full of disbelief and something that might be hope.

"Jessie?"

Her lips curve into that familiar smirk I'd thought I'd never see again.

"I knew the hype of a blonde slaying the classic ballet-hip hop industry had to be some badass bitch I'd love to be friends with, but to add it to my list of omega friends I dare admit I miss seems too good to be true."

Her expression softens, eyes warm with affection.

"Long time, bestie. You look good. Without having to be chased by a stalking psychopath, that is."

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