“To finding—”

“Oh, thank god!” Sinclair exclaims, and I look at her, just confused as the Cyans. “I was beginning to worry you’d never find them.” She sighs dramatically in exaggerated relief.

“What are you even talking about?” Merigold huffs.

“Your last two brain cells, of course,” Sinclair states plainly, and Griffin snorts a laugh. Merigold goes from looking peeved to like she just got slapped.

Yves snarls, “You dumb—”

“Think about your next wordsverycarefully, Cyan.” Ecker’s smooth yet menacing tone travels down the rows of tables. He and Titus must have just come from the gym, sweaty shirts clinging to their bodies.

“Whatever.” Merigold rolls her eyes then glares at Sinclair. “We thought your surprise arrival was a little suspicious. True-blooded omegas aren’t just stumbled upon in whore houses. So, we found your grandmother in that hovel you came from. It would be a shame if we don’t get answers about who youreallyare and something happens to the poor, old lady.”

I feel Sinclair’s reaction through the bond seconds before she acts on it, launching herself at Merigold. Both girls scream—Sinclair’s is more of a battle cry and Merigold’s a shriek. Like fighting cats, there’s an uncoordinated storm of flying limbs as both omegas tangle together on the floor.

It takes no more than a few seconds for Sinclair to end up straddling Merigold, who is frantically trying to paw away Sinclair’s flying hands—that are grabbing fistfuls of her hair. By now, everyone is standing, and some people are even chanting and pounding the table.

One of the Cyan alphas lunges for Sinclair, and I jump in front of him, a threatening growl thundering in my chest. As I shove him back, Ecker grabs Sinclair around the waist, pulling her off Merigold kicking and screaming. He throws her over his shoulder, and Titus blocks anyone from following him as he carries her out of the dining hall.

“Well, she certainly fights like a street mutt,” Yves hollers after them, and it takes everything in me to not bury my fist in his face until I hear bone breaking. If it wasn’t for the painful need to make sure my mate is okay, I probably would. Consequences be damned. I’d take a hundred lashes if it meant putting this posh asshole in his place.

I am vibrating with rage when Titus taps me on the shoulder.

“Go get her. I got this.” He jerks his head in the direction of the exit. I give him an appreciative nod and go after my omega.

I break out of the dining hall, the heavy wooden doors swinging shut with a loud bang. Ecker and Sinclair are standing down the corridor facing each other and don’t seem to notice.

“That was an embarrassment—oof!” The rest of his sentence turns into a pained groan when Sinclair knees him hard in the crotch.

“And fuck you, too,” Sinclair shouts, turning away. He reaches for her arm, and she looks down at where he’s grabbing her like he burned her.

Even though I gave him permission last night to touch her—and he did a lot more than just touch—my hackles rise at another man laying hands on her in a way that isn’t for her pleasure or safety.

I snarl, and they both look in my direction. I’m startled by the icy blue of Sinclair’s eyes, having gotten so used to them being metallic.

“Both of you, listen,” Ecker says, dropping her arm and looking at her. “You’re a Cerulean now. You should fight like one. None of this hair-pulling, tit-slapping bullshit. I want you knocking a bitch out—you get me?”

I don’t know if I’ve seen such a look of surprise on Sinclair’s face. Her jaw actually dropped. She cants her head in suspicion. “You’re not mad at me for fighting?”

He scoffs and takes a step forward, resting his hands on her hips. Smirking, he walks her back until her shoulders hit the wall. “Mad? No. Turned on? Yes. Because, baby, that was hot as hell.”

He dips down to kiss her neck as she laughs and only half tries to push him away.

“Hot, but sloppy,” I say, walking up to them. “Ecker’s right. We need to teach you how to fight.”

Her eyes light up as she looks at me over his shoulder. “Really?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, really.”

She squeals and gives Ecker a hard shove so she can jump onto me. I catch her in my arms as she wraps her legs around me and peppers my neck and cheeks with kisses.

“Can we start now?” she asks excitedly, and her joy is contagious, flowing through the bond.

Somehow, it makes perfect sense that our omega wouldn’t want expensive shoes or shiny necklaces, but to know how to throw a mean left hook.

I’ll still get her those things, but I’ll proudly show her how to “knock a bitch out” too.

1. Play “Grace” by Jacob Banks