Page 17 of Omega's Reign

“Fuck the law. Fuck that bitch!” Brutus points at me. “You’re nothing more than a piece of pussy on a power trip. You need to be put in your goddamn place.”

“Don’t threaten my mate,” Beckett says, growling. “You will get on your knees now. This is treason. You have disobeyed the law, and there is no forgiveness or mercy at this time.”

“Are you kidding me?” Brutus struggles against the hold of the other alpha. “You can’t do this. I deserve to be put in front of the Pack Regimes. Calico Proper would have never let you get away with this. You’re going to destroy the damn territory. Saint Vista can’t continue this way if it wants to survive. There are rumors that the other regions are plotting a hostile takeover. If you kill me, you won’t get any more information.”

My mouth falls agape at his revelation. No one’s ever mentioned regions outside of Saint Vista. There are many others across the nation, but they’ve always recognized the power of each other and worked in unity to make sure these lands were always prosperous.

Beckett unholsters his gun and rests the barrel against Brutus’s forehead. “Do you think we are stupid? Do you honestly believe that you would have more information about our territories and the other regions than we do?”

Brutus squeezes his eyes shut, his muscles tensing. “They see you growing weak. They saw how easy it was for the regions within Saint Vista to implode.”

“And they will discover how wrong they truly are if they do try anything. You’re hereby convicted of the attempted murder of an omega and treason against the leader of Platinum Shores. Your services are no longer needed. Another alpha will be put in your place.” Beckett doesn’t take his eyes off Brutus.

“Wait!” Brutus wails.

Beckett doesn’t wait. He’s already warned him that there would be no mercy, and it’s our right as a leading pack to convict and punish those who break the law. Again, we must set a ruthless example until our authoritative figures finally accept the fact that it doesn’t have to be this way. Or until they all fall by my pack’s hands.

I close my eyes, the pop of the gunshot ringing in my ears. It steals away the commotion coming from the back of the boat until I hear Jordan call out for towels.

“Gabi,” I whisper, thinking about the omega and the trauma she has had to endure. I want to be the one to tell her it’s over. I want to tell her that she will no longer have to suffer under Brutus’s power. She is free.

“I’ll take you to her,” Wesley says, adjusting me in his arms until I hook my legs around his waist.

I bury my face against the crook of his neck, breathing in his fresh scent, much softer than Beckett’s. More neutral but still comforting. Like clean linen and something more powdery. A white flower, perhaps.

I keep my eyes closed until the cool breeze of the ocean dissipates and silence fills the room. The saloon remains empty, though water spots collect on the rugs in a chaotic trail leading toward a gleaming mirrored and metal elevator. I haven’t seen much of the yacht, but what I have seen has been extravagant. It’s almost like a palace on the water, and I imagine what it would be like to drift out to sea with just the Silversteins. How the world would be peaceful. How we could just focus on each other. Maybe my brothers weren’t so wrong in denying the chance at getting their own territory and splitting the leadership position on the Pack Regimes.

Instead, they share it together, remaining in our homeland.

“It’s best if you don’t go with her, Wesley. The omega is shaken.” Andrew’s familiar voice hums in my ears, and I crane my neck to look for him.

I should’ve just kept my eyes to myself.

I had no idea that beneath his suit hid a muscular physique not unlike my guys. He stands just outside a cabin with only a towel slung over his hips, blocking his naked body. I don’t know why I’m so surprised or why I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s like the tattoos that dance across his hard pecs hypnotize me. And the branches of what is some sort of tree direct me to the V of his hips, pointing to the one place I should not be staring directly at.

Wesley clears his throat and sets me on my feet. “Is that okay, Holly?” he asks, shifting on his feet, staring at the side of my face while I continue to stare at Andrew.

“Mmmhmm,” I mumble, trying to convince myself that there is nothing spectacular about this alpha. About the man who is now my bodyguard. Even if his sweet, succulent scent screams otherwise.

What am I even thinking?

“I’ll wait right here.” Wesley touches my chin, getting me to look at him.

Flush burns my neck, sneaking up to my cheeks. I can see my red face in the reflection of a metal sconce with decorative lightbulbs. “I won’t be long. I need to address the situation with the others.” Again, I turn my attention back to Andrew, his quiet presence still demanding my full attention.

Wesley chuckles, his playfulness surprising me. It helps me not feel as bad as I should. “I can smell your interest,” he whispers, leaning in closer. “I told Beckett that this would be a possibility.”

I yank my attention away from Andrew, finally coming to my good senses. “What? What are you talking about?” We both know that I understand his insinuation.

“Beckett was fine, by the way. You don’t have to worry, lovely.” Wesley nudges me away, cutting me off from any more questions.

Now I’m going to have to talk to Beckett about this. To the others. Why would they even discuss such things? Andrew isn’t part of the Silverstein Pack. He’s hired to be my bodyguard and nothing else. Beckett just wanted an alpha because they’re more respected.

Holding my breath, I tiptoe past Andrew, not looking at him. He remains in his place, not bothering to move or walk away. He wouldn’t anyways. His job is to stay here, even if Wesley doesn’t leave either. A part of me doesn’t want to go because I’m afraid they’ll talk.

But why am I nervous? This is wrong. Right?

Fuck me.

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