Page 27 of Feral Alphas

“Get him out of here!” Groman roars, blood pouring down his arm.

Gloved hands drag the fighting alpha off me, and I scream, grabbing Mufasa’s arm to pull him back where I need him. I’m notstrong enough and they rip us apart. His absence feels like the death of my own soul as five men haul him toward the ring.

Suddenly the lights dim and a purple color I’ve never seen flashes across the ceiling strobes.

Someone shouts, “OCB raid!” and whatever order was left in the stadium erupts into chaos.

People trip over and trample each other as the crowds stampede for the exits. Groman swears and yanks me to my feet by my arm, scanning the room. Blood drips from his ruined hand where he’s missing at least his thumb and I realize the blood on my chest is his, not Mufasa’s.

I’m delirious with heat as I stumble after him, my handcuff dangling loosely. Then the room plunges into darkness, and I slip, jerking free of Groman’s grip. A body barrels into me and I squeal and roll away. Reaching out, I feel a chair and pull myself up into it, curling into a ball as I remember the ones who got trampled on the ground. Screams and shouts fly in every direction until I lose sense of which way is up.

Long beams of light crisscross the murky air, and suddenly a soothing presence envelops me. “Hey, get on the ground!” For a single moment, as disorientated as I am, I think it’s Mufasa.

I blink and look up into a face with glossy hazel eyes and a square jaw framed by short ginger hair. The man’s dark blue uniform bulges out across his chest, with the letters OCB printed in white across the front. A rich citrus scent floods over me and I weep as I leap toward him and bury my nose in his neck to breathe it in.

I prayed for a miracle and it’s here. “Help us, please!” I sob.

Chapter eleven

Colt

The crying omega leaps at me and buries her face in my neck. Her added weight sends me crashing to my knees and I catch my fall against the stadium seat so I don’t crush her.

The sounds of the raid fade away as my entire existence narrows to this one person clinging to me.

A scent like I’ve walked into a florist shop hits me like a truck and a growl rips through my throat. Holy fuck, she’s in heat, and I’ve been smelling it since we broke through the outer security on this arena. I assumed it was haze, but not even the dampening bracelet on her wrist can mask this powerful aroma. My cock stirs and I bite down on my lip until it bleeds.

This is a job, Colt. Don’t get attached.

As if to defy my thoughts, my hands close around her bare back, holding as much of her as I can reach.

“It hurts,” she whimpers into my throat, and my cock nearly breaks through the Bureau-issued pants. Every alpha instinct I possess comes alive in one huge hit of adrenaline. So, this is the power of an omega in heat. None of the Bureau’s distressed omega training I’ve done prepares me for the power of her heat scent and my body’s answering response.

“You alright there, Colt?”

I pivot on my heels, snarling on instinct, and Felina puts her hands up and backs away. “Easy boss, it’s just me.”

I huff a deep breath, which doesn’t help because all I’m breathing is lilacs and roses. “Fuck! Sorry, Felina. She’s in heat and it’s stronger than I imagined.”

She nods, blue eyes serious. “Yeah, I can smell it. What do you want to do?”

What do I want? I want to carry this heart-broken omega into my bedroom and fuck her until all she has left are smiles. I swallow hard, fighting to keep my professionalism in place. “You better take her, partner. I’m struggling here.” It’s harder to say than I thought.

Felina nods and approaches slowly, reaching for the shivering omega. “Come on, kiddo. We’ll get you the help you need.”

The woman latched against my chest screams, “No!” and her arms tighten around my neck so hard I can barely breathe. Well, omega protection is literally the name of our task force, and if that’s what she wants, I better do my job.

“Sshh, little one,” I murmur, patting her back. “We’ll help you.”

“You have to save them,” she blubbers, her tears running down my collar.

I immediately understand why so many alphas I know have their omega’s name tattooed on their bodies. Heck, I want to tattoo those tear marks of hers on my neck.

Grunting with effort, I get to my feet, balancing her tight-wrapped legs around my hips. “Fel, take my gun, will you? Can’t have it in reach of a civilian.”

My partner nods and unclips the holster, stooping to pick up my long torch which doubles as a club. The joint OCB teams sweep the arena methodically as I carry her back to the trucks up on the street.

Minstrom glances up from his radio and appraises us with a stern look. “Something to report, Agent Colt?”

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