Page 129 of Pack Rivals, Part One

Asshole thinks he's some boxing champion.

I'm not playing here. I'm not messing around. I'm serious. I'll throw him into the back of his car and push it all the way back to the city if I have to.

But before I can take a swing at him, a mewling whimper has mine and Angel's heads snapping to the left.

The omega stands there, wrapped in her silk robe, shaking uncontrollably.

"Bea," Angel says, attempting to step towards her. I block him again and this time he knocks the full force of his shoulder into my gut. On instinct, I grab for him, coiling my arms around his neck and squeezing as he attempts to wrestle me to the ground, thumping my gut with his right hook.

"Stop!" Bea calls out. "Please stop."

I catch a glimpse of her as we swerve around in the dust, clouds of it hovering around us like eager spectators. Her hands are clutched to her belly and tears form in her eyes.

"She needs help, asshole," Angel sneers, swiping his knuckles up into my jaw. The impact startles me for one second, before I blink the stars away, and land my own right hook in his ribs. He groans and the omega whimpers again.

"I am going to help her," I tell him as he snaps free of my grasp and we circle each other. "I'm taking her home to my pack and we're going to see her through this heat."

"No fucking way, shithead. No fucking way."

He swings for me and I duck, landing a barrage of knocks against his shoulder and his cheek.

"Oh god!" Bea screams. "Please, please stop."

Deep in my gut, I feel a pull, a pull to go to her, to comfort her, but her and Angel's scents are swirling in my brain and this anger, this need to send him on his way, won't abate.

She is mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He can't have her. He won't have her.

He lands a punch on my kidney and a kick to my foot. I smack his head and knee his shin. We grapple at each other, each trying to drag the other to the ground.

I can hear the omega in the background, but her noises are confusing the hell out of me. One second screeches of fear and shock, the next moans and whimpers of desire. The air is rich with the aroma of her slick.

Our display, the aggression, it's turning her on, appealing to all her omega instincts, the ones fighting to take control now she's in heat.

A voice of reason calls to me from far away.

Stop this. Go to her. Ask her to choose.

But it's drowned out by the labored breath of the other alpha, the noises running from the omega's throat and the pound of my own heart.

Mine. Mine.

Need to get her to my pack. Need to mate and rut and knot her.

Need to fill her belly.

Need to claim her.

I bare my teeth at Angel and snarl.

And then another noise. Clear above all others.

The barrel of a shotgun rolling into place.

We both freeze.

"That is enough," yells a high-pitched voice. "Get up."

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