Page 27 of Omega Inked

I pad over to the door, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor. I can smell Liam on it, and I hold it to my face with a smile for a moment before I pull it on over my head. I'll need to get some things taken care of...but I realize with a start that, though this wasn't my plan, these men are going to keep me safe.

I open the door and take one last look at the others, then I step outside.

I take a deep breath outside of our nest...and I wish I was back in it.

But I have to figure out who's driving this thing.

I walk quietly to the helm, and I find it lit by a soft glow from inside. Mercer sits at the controls, his back to me. His black hair is bound up in a topknot, tattoos swirling over his light brown skin, his t-shirt ripped in a couple places and revealing thick muscles.

The last part of our pack.

I can feel it. Even if he resists, I know we're meant to be.

Or maybe it's just my heat talking. My desperation to survive and thrive.

He blows out a breath, and I suddenly know he's aware of my presence.

"Olivia Cruz," he says.

My stomach drops.

"You know," I whisper, my voice hollow.

He glances over his shoulder. "I know...and your heat's over, so we can actually talk now."

I bite my lip and cross my arms, self-conscious. "About what?"

He chuckles. "A fucking explanation, little miss ACB."

"Don't call me that," I snap.

"But it's what you are," he says. "Do the guys know?"

I can't answer. It makes me feel terrible. Like I lured them in against their will.

Maybe I did.

"Of course they don't," I say quietly. "You all never would have helped me if you'd known."

"I wouldn't say that," he says, leaning back in his chair. "I think I would've."

I frown, confused.

He turns back to me. "You're an omega in need, I would've helped you."

"What...why?"

"I'm a fucking lone wolf, but no one deserves to live like you were. Isolation can do that to a person. It can make you desperate. I'm not saying I'm the same as you, but I get you."

"Why would you help me?" I whisper.

"Because you're a person. Not a thing. And I want to hear your story."

I nod.

"Can I sit with you?"

Mercer gestures me over and I walk slowly over to a chair at the corner of the room. He's still keeping me at a distance--I'm sure my scent is still almost too much to bear--but he keeps his composure as I sit with my legs glued tight together.

---