Page 66 of Unhinged Omega

Used to be Raven's job, once upon a time. Little shit always knew where to find the good stuff, even out here in the ass-end of nowhere.

I sink back onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. The TV drones on, but I'm not really seeing it anymore. Instead, my mind keeps drifting back to that day on the road. To Raven's retreating form, golden hair catching the last rays of sunlight as he walked away.

Walked to his death.

Because that's what this is, isn't it?

A suicide mission.

Going up against Nikolai fucking Vlakov, all for some omega he doesn't even know. An omega he caught a single glimpse of once. Guess even the most submissive alpha that walks this earth isn't immune to the scent of an omega.

There is one thing I can thank that shithead Nikolai for. When he carved my eye out of my head, the damage and resulting infection fucked up my sense of smell. Made it tougher for me to be affected by scents. Turned out to be a useful trait considering my line of work.

Useful enough that I finished the job by injecting acid straight into the cavity through my eye socket where the tear duct used to be.

I can still get a whiff of particularly strong scents, but in a normal human way. The way humans used to be before all this alpha and omega shit started evolving all over the world as a direct result of just how badly we fucked up the planet.

So maybe I just don't get it.

Maybe the scent of moon pussy or whatever the fuck Raven said is just so powerful, he really didn't have a choice but to chase that strange straight into the very bowels of hell. And that's where he might be right now, for all I know. Throwing the biggest party the literal underworld has ever seen.

He sure likes to fuck around inmyunderworld. The one I've made myself the lord of. The one he likes to treat like his own personal playground every time he shows up. Always hasthe worst timing, too. It's always when things are finally feeling fuckingnormal.

And I don't feel normal often.

You know what?

I'm glad to be rid of him.

This calls for celebration, not bitching and moaning and brooding. A little more whiskey and one of the cigars I save for special occasions should do the trick. Should make my fucked up face stop hurting, too.

Peace and quiet is all I've ever wanted.

And this time, it's permanent.

So why does it feel like I've lost something I didn't even know I had?

The whiskey isn't doing its job anymore. The burn in my throat can't quite drown out the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that's starting to feel uncomfortably like...

Guilt.

"Fuck," I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I shouldn't care. Raven made his choice. He maylooktoo innocent for this world, but he's still a grown-ass man, capable of making his own decisions. Even if those decisions are monumentally stupid and likely to get him killed in horrifically painful ways.

But Idocare.

Somewhere along the line, that irritating little shit wormed his way past my defenses. Became more than just another stray looking for scraps.

He became...

Family.

The word sits heavy in my mind, uncomfortable and foreign. I've spent my whole life avoiding attachments, keeping everyone at arm's length.

It's safer that way.

Easier.

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