Page 73 of Stolen Omega

Emotions are the heart of an Omega.

She needs to feel the same way she did the night she was taken.

It’s possible she already does, but it might not be enough.

This will be. It has to be.

I climb into the van, knowing she’ll feel it and know someone’s in the back of the van with her now.

I pause once I’m kneeling in front of the box, waiting and listening.

She doesn’t make a sound from inside. She’s waiting like I am.

My fingers shake as I put my hand on the first of the two straps that are holding the box in place.

I unclip the first strap carefully, not letting it drop. I set it down without a sound, and then I unclip the second, taking the same care to be quiet.

If she’s noticed, she doesn’t show it.

The lid remains closed.

She doesn’t try to open it.

That’s going to be up to me.

I get the syringe ready, knowing I need to be fast.

She’s a fighter, and she’s got a determined streak.

I pull the lid open, and she looks up at me, her dark eyes wild.

Her phone is clenched in one hand, the other is wrapped around her middle.

She jumps to her feet, and I rise onto mine, eclipsing her view of the outside world.

I see the defiance in the way her jaw sets and the way her stare turns to steel.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she snarls at me as she backs out of the box and keeps it between us.

I don’t answer her. I can’t. She’s not seeing me right now. She’s seeing a threat, a kidnapper.

I can’t let her hear my voice.

“My bodyguards will find us!” she snaps. “And when they do, they’ll make you regret this!”

I edge around the box. She moves away quickly, keeping me from getting close enough to grab her.

Shit. I fucked this up.

That box has barely been open for a minute, and she’s ready to run.

Because I’ve already fucked up, I let her.

I chase her around the box until she jumps out of the van and takes off.

She’s running blind, just trying to put distance between us.

I catch up quickly, grabbing her from behind, and lifting her off her feet.

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