Page 6 of One Way Out

If Valor dies, Omen will be in agony. The fresher the bond, the more violent it is to a person’s system. That’s why it’s easier for those who have a partner that dies of natural causes after a long life. The connection weakens over time, but even then, packs in their seventies, eighties, or nineties often die out within weeks or months of each other. It’s one kindness nature bestows on alphas and omegas…and I guess betas too, if they have a bond like Omen does.

“I know what I’ll be in for if they put Valor down.” Omen crosses one leg over the other and his foot bounces. “I’d rather experience that agony than allow my best mate to murder someone he genuinely cares about in cold blood. If he had a say, he would tell me to protect Saylor. Only, I was cuffed. I physically couldn’t stop her. McCabe shoved me inside the cell and that was that.”

“And now he’s about to stick her in with your rabid alpha,” Shaw says. “Why reach out to her family at all if he was just going to pull this bullshit?”

“It doesn’t make much sense to me either,” Omen says, sighing heavily. “I’ve seen Valor pretty bad off, and he’s never mistaken someone innocent for an adversary. I’d just feel a fuck of a lot more confident if any piece of him remained in the bond.”

Jesus Christ.

ChapterThree

Saylor

My eyes widen as Valor bends close to the bars, tugging my shirt so hard that a ripping sound fills the air. He snarls, and his warm breath fans over my face. His hazy eyes seem focused on McCabe and not me.

Or that’s what I tell myself.

It’s intimidating to have his sharp canines right there as he roars.

There’s no doubt in my mind…

Valor has left the building.

The only part of him that’s here with me is the animalistic side of an alpha’s personality that remains once they go rabid.

“Back the fuck up, or I’ll put a bullet in her brain,” McCabe says coolly. “This isn’t a tranquilizer gun, and I’m not fucking about. Take a step back and release the omega.”

Spit flies from Valor’s mouth as he bares his teeth at the guard. McCabe, in turn, shoves the barrel of the gun deeper into my temple, causing me to whimper.

I haven’t even had the chance to freak out about that, but I always go numb in a crisis. The same thing happens when I have too many decisions to make. Rather than making any choices, my system just shuts down, fully highlighting the decision paralysis. Normally it’s a nuisance, but right now, it seems like a perk of having a neurodivergent brain.

McCabe points toward the back of the cell. “Back up, Valor, or you’ll find yourself picking chunks of her brain out of your hair.” He bumps my shoulder and says, “You try.”

My heart pounds so violently, I think I’m on the verge of having a heart attack.

This many beats per minute cannot be healthy.

“Back up, please. He’s going to let me in there with you,” I say, trying to keep the fear out of my tone.

Isn’t that what they tell you to do?

Don’t show fear to a predator?

“No.” Valor’s head tilts, and the full weight of his emotionless gaze settles on me.

“You’re scaring me.” I stare straight into his eyes, even though there’s not a hint of recognition. “That bothered you the first time we met, and I know you would hate to know you’re making me nervous now.”

Valor’s hand releases my T-shirt, and I exhale in pure relief until he growls, “Leave!”

“It’s your death warrant,” McCabe says coolly.

That isstillnot fucking happening, and I wish everyone would stop talking about it so casually.

Killing someone is a big deal.

I grimace as my mind helpfully replays a flash of the corpses in the next cell. Okay, so Valor may be a murderer, but he’smykiller.

They’re not going to put him down if I have anything to say about it. And once he regains mental clarity, I’m sure he’ll be much less murdery and way more rational.

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