Page 1 of Three Ring Heat: Part One
CHAPTER ONE
ARINA
The crowded bus lurched abruptly, and the brakes ground to a stop. I threw a hand up against the seat in front of me to keep from slamming into it.
What the fuck?
Icy fear punched through my veins.
There was no way we were already in Houston.
Peering out the wide window next to me, I couldn’t make out much. A cluster of trees, their canopy outlined against the midnight sky. Tiny raindrops flecking the glass. It looked like we’d moved off the highway onto a smaller, deserted road, but it was hard to tell through the blanket of darkness.
My stomach sank. Something was definitely wrong.
I whipped my head around, noting the confused faces around me, as curious murmurs erupted among the passengers. Doing my best to stay calm—panicking would solve nothing—I clutched my old backpack tightly to my chest, waiting for some kind of instruction from the driver.
The bag was all I had left to my name, and it smelled like home. Rich cedar, wrapped in light florals that would normally help calm my frantic thoughts. Right now, though, it only spiked my anxiety.
If anyone discovered what was buried at the bottom of the backpack, the illegal suppressants I’d been taking for three years to smother my heat and mask my scent, it would be the end of the line for me. I’d fought so hard to get here, done unspeakable things to gain my freedom and run for my life.
It couldn’t end here. Not now.
My fingers ached as they dug into the material, my thoughts spiraling. Was this a routine bus stop that hadn’t been on the itinerary? Motor trouble?Did they already catch up to me?
The question sent chills rippling through me, and it felt like my seat had been ripped out from beneath me. I’d done my best to cover my tracks, paid for my bus ticket in cash, and kept a low profile. I even left my cell phone at home for fear of being tracked. I’d done everything I could to stay under the radar, but despite being so cautious, I was still terrified that the pack I wanted no part of would find me.
The pack who bought my freedom.
Deep down, I knew it didn’t matter how far I ran; they would catch up. No pack would let an omega slip through their fingers, especially one they owned. They wouldn't give up.
They would come for me.
It’s only a matter of time.
I refused to hand myself over to them. I refused to be bartered like an object. I was an omega, not a goddamnthingto be handed off thoughtlessly. Especially not when my mother fought so hard for years to keep me safe and hidden.
The Stone pack could get fucked.
“I wonder if we hit something.” The burly beta male who had been asleep next to me the entire time was awake now, histired eyes staring around in confusion. We’d been stuck in this hot, sweaty sardine can on wheels for hours, but he’d blissfully snored away most of it.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
My gut said no. There hadn’t been any bumps or loud noises prior to the groan of the grinding brakes.
Despite the long, boring drive, I’d been wide awake since we left Floral Ridge, Arkansas. It didn’t matter how long I stared at the backs of my eyelids and attempted to doze, I couldn’t sleep.
I would have heard or felt a collision.
No, this was something else.
“Maybe a traffic stop?” I offered, swallowing the lump in my throat. Of all the possible scenarios playing in my brain, that was the worst case. A police officer was the last thing I wanted to see right now.
My panicked thoughts became more irrational as the seconds ticked by, and hypotheticals hounded me.
Were they looking for fugitives? Checking IDs?
Were they hunting omegas?
