Page 102 of Unhinged Omega

I stare at the open window, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air carries the scents of the city. Smoke and garbage and… freedom. Terror and longing war inside me at the same time as I take a hesitant step forward.

But then I freeze.

Where would I go?

What would I do?

I can't remember a time before Madame, before the collar around my neck and the commands that shape my every moment. The world outside these walls might as well be another planet.

The man watches me, his expression unreadable.

"You're afraid," he says.

It's not a question.

"I don't know how to be free," I admit, the words barely audible. "I don't know who I am without… her."

He takes a step closer, and I notice he moves like a predator. All contained power and deadly grace.

But for some reason, I'm not afraid of him.

Not the way I should be.

I feel more shame in this moment than I did with that gun in my mouth earlier. The raw strength radiating from this man makes my weakness feel even more pathetic. His jagged scar speaks of battles survived, of a resilience I can't even imagine. I expect to see disgust in his gaze when he looks at me—another alpha who's nothing but a broken toy.

But he surprises me. His fingers find my chin, tilting it up with unexpected gentleness. He doesn't force me to meet his gaze like so many others have. Instead, he offers the choice.

"I can show you," he says, his voice low and certain.

My heart skips. "Show me what?"

"How to be free." He gestures to the open window. "If you don't want to fly, we'll have to take the door. But I warn you—it's going to be a bloody, ugly night. The first of many."

I swallow hard, understanding the weight of what he's offering. "And if I choose the door?"

"There's no turning back," he says, brutal honesty in every word. "Unfortunately for you, kid, I'm no one's guardian angel.And if you want the devil to come to your rescue, it's going to cost your soul."

A shiver runs through me, but not of fear. His honesty is exhilarating after years of pretty lies and false promises. And I'm sure he means it as a warning.

But it sounds like a promise.

Belong to someone other than her?

Someone like him?

It's more than I ever dared to dream of.

"I'll do whatever you ask," I whisper. "Just... please. Take me with you."

A predatory grin spreads across his face. He reaches for the revolver at his hip, and I can't help flinching as he places it in my trembling hands. The metal is warm from his body heat, so different from the cold gun from earlier. But the image of me on that floor, my hands trembling as I fought against pulling the trigger, flashes in my mind.

His breath ghosts across my ear as he whispers. "If you want to walk out of your prison, the first thing you have to do is kill the warden. Can you do that, little bird?"

I hesitate, the weight of the gun suddenly overwhelming. But before I can answer, he's striding to the door and throwing it open.

Wyatt stands there, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. Me with the gun, the stranger with his dangerous smile. "What the f?—"

My hands shake as I realize I have less than a second to ask and Wyatt is already reaching for his gun. If I hesitate, we'll both be dead. Worse, this chance at not-quite-freedom will slip away forever.

---