Page 125 of Unhinged Omega

Starting with why the fuck he's so interested in the same omega Raven's apparently willing to die for. There has to be more to this.

And I don't like it one fucking bit.

Especially because I know in my gut how this is all going to turn out. If the mystery moon omega is still alive—which I sincerely doubt, since even omegas whoaren'tbeing chased by monster alphas never last long alone in this world—I'm going to end up hunting her down and bringing her home for Raven.

How do I know this?

Because the son of a bitch has had me wrapped around his pretty little pinkie since the day we first met. And he knows it. All he has to do is smile and bat his goddamn eyelashes and my heart melts straight through the iron defenses I've built around it.

It happens again and again and again.

My eye drifts back to Raven's feed. He's watching Ryefield work on Nikolai. The collar around his neck gleams dully in the low light, and I have to suppress another wave of guilt.

This is necessary, I tell myself again.

This is for his own good.

But as I watch him curl in on himself again, head dropping to rest on his knees, I wonder who I'm really trying to convince. Maybe thinking about how I can at least try to make things right, how I can try to make Raven happy if I can find this doomed omega who's almost certainly long dead, is just me trying to make myself feel better about what I need to do.

It doesn't matter that it's for his own protection. Because I know it doesn't matter tohim.

I pull Nikolai's red sunglasses from my pocket, turning them over in my hands. The lenses catch the light from the monitors, reflecting my own distorted image back at me.

One eye, just like him.

Fucker wanted to make sure we match, but little did he know we already match. And in a much worse way.

We're both terrible for Raven.

Chapter

Thirty-One

NIKOLAI

Pain.

That's the first thing I register as consciousness creeps back in. Every breath sends fire shooting through my back. My head feels like it's been stuffed with broken glass. I try to move, but my limbs are heavy, uncoordinated.

Where the fuck am I?

Images flash through my mind in disjointed fragments. The airfield. The chaos. The Knight tearing through my men like they were made of paper. The sound of chains snapping, of screams, of...

Cosima.

The name tears from my throat in a ragged moan before I can stop it. I remember her now. Silver hair streaming behind her as she ran into the forest.

And the Knight...

That fucking monstrosity was going after her.

I have to get up. Have to find her before?—

"She's not here."

The voice comes from somewhere to my left, quiet and hollow. Familiar in a way that makes my chest tighten with emotions I've spent years drowning in vodka and blood.

Chief among them is fucking rage.

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