Page 7 of Wanted By the Wolves

She’s a fierce thing, dirty and small but full of fight.

And she’s an omega.

I take out the first guard with an arm around his neck, the pressure point sending him to his knees. The second guard I piledrive to the floor after he takes a shot at me and misses. For that, I shoot them both with darts for good measure.

The omega warns me with her crouch that if I come closer, she’ll attack. She snarls, and her scent spikes with fear.

My voice doesn’t want to work, but somehow, I force out the words. “I’m here to help you escape. I won’t hurt you.”

What the fuck were we thinking when we decided to send me for this? I’m the absolute wrong man for trying to calm a scared omega. My ugly mug and bulky size are going to send her over the edge. I crouch with her, making myself as small as possible and keeping my eyes downcast.

We stay that way for tense minutes. I feel the air shift and know she’s come closer, but I don’t dare move a muscle.

She sniffs the air and takes another crouching step.Up close, she smells like burnt apple pie. The warm, homey scent mixed with the sharp tang of distress makes my wolf want to howl. It’s all wrong. She should only ever smell happy. Safe.

She doubles over, holding her stomach.The small omega cries out in pain, and the air fills with her tart apple.

I force myself to stay still even though every part of my body wants me to go to her, to pull her into my arms and run out of this nightmare. I won’t do that. She needs to come to me so she can feel in control.

My purr rattles from deep in my chest, the sound so surprising I almost stumble in shock. It hiccups, then starts again. I’ve never made the sound and only heard it a few times as a pup. The magic of it works to soothe the air, and I feel her tension dissipate.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Let me take you somewhere safe. I promise I’m not here to hurt you,” I say, keeping my voice steady, trying to be calm for her.

She crawls closer, and I hold out my hand. Her small fingers clasp mine. I look into wide silver eyes full of fear. “Alpha.”

“That’s right, omega. I’ve got you,” I promise.

A rumbled growl sounds from behind me, and the small omega hisses before sinking her teeth into my leg. Before I can strike the intruder, the little omega falls to the floor. The motherfucker hit her with a tranquilizer dart.

“Dude, she bit you!” the young guard shouts.

“No shit,” I say as I land the first blow. It takes another two hits for the guard to join his friends on the wet bathroom floor.

“Damn. That fucker was fast,” my brother calls from the outer room.

I glare over my shoulder at Briggs as he stumbles into the bathroom. He at least has the sense to look sheepish.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, they were headed to check on you. I got his friends, but he made an escape.” Briggs tries to go to the omega, but the menacing growl rising from my chest stops him in his tracks. He looks at me, his voice softening. “I’m not gonna hurt her, big guy. Take it easy. But if we plan to get out of here without alerting the king, we gotta move our asses.”

I scoop up the sleeping omega and cradle her against my chest. She doesn’t wake—the dart should keep her asleep for hours— but she curls a finger into my shirt. The contact makes it feel as if my heart is about to leap from my chest.The way my heart thunders to life as it rips its way out of long buried layers of war and death is startling.

Everything becomes crystal clear with her in focus. She’s the mission now. Nothing matters but keeping her safe.

“Rest now, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” I promise her.

Briggs shucks off his flannel and wraps it around her. He searches the passed-out guards for weapons and clears the room before coming back for me. “Let’s move.”

“You got a plan?”

“Yeah, but it involves a window.” He shrugs.

Of course it does.

Chapter 5

Briggs

The scent in the Jeep is so intense that I’m having difficulty focusing on the road. She floods the enclosed space with sharp cinnamon mixed with crisp apple. Her scent is sprinkled with rich, creamy vanilla, and all I want to do is roll around in it. With the pull of the moon, it’s nearly impossible to focus beyond my baser instincts.

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