Page 97 of Break Me Knot

Hugo tries to crawl away, leaving smears of blood on concrete. Cole's boot on his spine stops his retreat. “Where do you think you're going?” Cole's voice is cold. Infuriated. He reaches down, grabs Hugo's hair, and slams his face into the concrete. Once. Twice. The wet sounds make my stomach turn but there’s a strange satisfaction in karma too.

Cruel hands rip me up from the ground and slide around my throat from behind. Mercer's antiseptic and bitter almond engulfs me. I start to struggle but her voice whips around me with an alpha bark that makes every cell in my body obey. I go limp in the devil’s arms.

“Enough! I have the omega.” Her voice whips through the garage, cutting through the chaos of violence.

Her fingers find exactly the right pressure points, the exact angle needed, with the practiced ease of someone who knows anatomy intimately. One wrong move from my mates and I have no doubt she’ll snap my neck.

Adrian, Zane, and Cole turn as one, their expressions transforming into horror as they take in my position. They are coated with blood, evidence of their rage now rendered useless. They look helpless. Powerless.

I hear Lars and Hugo's stumbling retreat, their footsteps echoing as they abandon their employer. The sound of their cowardly flight mingles with the distant wail of car alarms, but Mercer doesn't seem to care about their desertion. Her grip remains steady.

“One step and I'll sever her spinal cord. It's quite simple, really. C1 and C2 vertebrae are so delicate in omegas.” She could be discussing the weather, not threatening my life. “Fascinating how evolution made them so... vulnerable.”

I try to stay perfectly still, but I can't stop shaking. I can’t take my eyes off my alphas. If I die, I want them to be the last thing I see.

“Please.” Adrian’s hands flex at his sides. “Don't hurt her.”

“Fascinating, isn't it? How quickly alphas devolve when their omega is threatened. Such an interesting response.” Her fingers shift, making me gasp. “You should thank me. Showing you how weak this omega makes you. Alphas, the most powerful sentient beings on this planet, reduced to something no better than our Neanderthal ancestors. No being should have that power over another. Especially a stinking weak omega.”

“Whatever you want. Money, resources, anything, it’s yours. Just don't hurt her.” Adrian raises his hands. I've never seen him look so destroyed. My alpha, begging for my life.

Mercer's laugh cracks around me. “Of course you will. You'll give me everything, won't you? All to save your precious little omega. Such predictable alpha behavior.” She hums. “First we'll return to Haven. Clearly, the previous conditioning wasn't thorough enough. We'll have to start from scratch, won'twe, Mira?” Her voice takes on that teaching tone I remember from the facility, the one that preceded the worst pain. “Perhaps isolation therapy again. Sensory deprivation. Whatever it takes to break these unfortunate attachments you've formed.”

I try to control my terror, but my scent betrays me, sharp and sour. “No…” I wheeze.

“Although...” Her scent shifts suddenly, antiseptic turning acrid with something unstable. Something broken. The change is so dramatic that even in my terror, I recognize it for what it is. Her brittle facade has cracked to reveal the madness beneath. “You've always been such a disappointment, haven't you? All that special attention I gave you to turn you into the perfect omega...” Her grip tightens. “Such a waste of resources. Of time. Of effort.”

The madness in her voice makes my blood run cold. My alphas must sense it too, because their scents spike with horror.

“Perhaps it would be better to simply...” Her fingers shift into position, finding the right location along my neck. “Start fresh with a more promising subject.”

Adrian's roar of desperate rage fills the garage as her grip tightens. The world slows down, every sensation crystallizing into perfect clarity: the press of her fingers, the terror in my alphas' eyes, my heart pounding in my chest.

I look at each of them in turn. I meet Adrian's gaze, trying to pour all my love into one last look. Zane's face is twisted with helpless calculation, seeking a solution that doesn't exist. Cole's steady strength has crumbled into desperate fury.

A deafening gunshot cracks through the garage. One moment Mercer's fingers are tightening around my throat, the next she's torn away from me, her grip going slack. The bitter almond scent of her madness dissipates into copper and gunpowder. I catch a glimpse of her falling, a look of surprised outrage frozen on her face, a black hole in the center of her forehead, before my world fills with my mates.

I'm engulfed in the scents of cedar, citrus, and pine. Their arms wrap around me, creating a fortress of warmth and protection. They're still covered in bloodand desperation but none of that matters. All that matters is that they're here, they're real, they're alive.

Adrian's hands cup my face, his fingers trembling as they ghost over where Elliot struck me. “Let me see, Little One. Let me see what they did to you.” His touch is impossibly gentle despite the blood still staining his hands.

Zane presses his face into my neck, his chest hitching. His citrus scent is a summer day, chasing away the lingering cold of Mercer's touch. “Thought we'd lost you.”

Cole's arms band around us all, his large frame trembling from his head to his toes. “I’m never going to leave you alone again, Sweetness.”

I catch sight of a huge alpha carved from shadow and fury behind Adrian. He lowers his still-smoking gun, but there's nothing peaceful about his stance. He's coiled violence in human form. A scar cuts across his jaw, disappearing into dark stubble, and his eyes... his eyes are bottomless wells of contained rage.

He studies me with an intensity that makes my omega want to hide, not from fear exactly, but from the weight of recognition in his gaze. Like he sees something in me that resonates with his own darkness. His free hand flexes at his side, and I notice scars across his knuckles.

“Who is he?” Something about him resonates with the broken parts of me.

“Our friend,” Adrian murmurs against my hair, his arms tightening protectively around me. “Asher Mitchell. The detective who's going to help us tear down Haven.”

Asher's storm-and-gunmetal scent shifts as he addresses Adrian, though his intense gaze never leaves my face. There's something in that look… recognition, understanding, and longing. “Take your omega to her nest, Adrian. She needs her pack right now.” He sighs, finally breaking eye contact with me to stare at the carnage around us. “I'll handle the cleanup here.”

“You know how to reach me when you need me,” Adrian says.

The fluorescent lights cast shadows across Asher’s grim features, then Adrian gathers me against his chest, one hand cradling my head while the other bandsunder me, steady in his grip. I begin to shake so badly the tremors overtake my whole body.

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