Page 19 of Omega's Reign

“This is also your one opportunity to decide whether or not you will stand beside us.” I reach for Beckett’s hand and slide my fingers through his. A thought rushes to me, and I can’t stop myself from opening my mouth without consulting with my pack. “And I have a test to prove as much. Tonight has been enlightening. I was under the assumption that all your omegas were happy and safe. Brutus proved that to be untrue, so I have decided that you must hand over your omegas and your children until I can decide if you are worthy of them.”

“You can’t be serious. They’d have told you if they weren’t happy.” This comes from a man at the end of the couch, his features obscured with his beard. I don’t recall which omega is part of his pack, but all I know is what I have been told.

“Exactly. They have told me they were happy, but it has also come to my attention that they are also scared. They were willing to say anything to keep themselves safe. From you. From all of you.” It would be nice if I didn’t have to go through with the plan. To sink this yacht and to send the omegas into hiding. I’ve experienced that life and while I was safe, I also feel as if I missed out on a lot.

“So what? If we disagree, what do you plan to do? I don’t want my omega at risk. I’m the only one who can protect her.” This comes from another man, one I recall being named Jonathon. He’s one of the younger ones, and I’m not even sure his omega has gone into heat in his pack.

I exhale a breath, my sigh loosening my bunched muscles. “This isn’t something you can agree or disagree with. It’s happening.”

The guy on the end of the couch stands up. “You can’t do this! We have done everything you have asked. We have stood down and shut up about all these stupid little changes you’ve made. We have ensured that the citizens in our areas have complied. We’ve separated families. We’ve cut off alphas from their packs. Everyone is fucking miserable, and it’s your fault. The only reason I have agreed to this nonsense is because my omega was still mine. But if you take her—”

“She’s not your fucking property!” Jordan snaps, speaking up for the first time. It’s unlike him to lash out, especially in front of the alphas. He usually lets Beckett handle all the communication. “You don’t have control over her.”

“The hell I—”

Bright light floods in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stealing my attention away from the grumbling alphas. I shield my eyes, realizing that another vessel has pulled up alongside ours, and whoever man’s the boat shines a spotlight on ours. It’s much smaller, and I can’t see it from my spot. Why didn’t the crew say anything? Wouldn’t they have known that we weren’t alone in these waters?

A pit forms in my stomach. This is bad. We’re nearly defenseless. It’s not like we have the protection of our palace. We’re on a yacht far from land.

“Get her to the captain’s suite,” Beckett says, his voice booming through the air, commanding Andrew even though he’s already reaching for me.

I yank out of his reach. “I’m not going to hide and wait for an attack. Give me a weapon. Whoever it is probably wants to seize our vessel.”

“Do you think it’s pirates?” Vic asks, standing from his seat. He glances around the saloon, assessing the situation. They’re all unarmed. We don’t allow weapons in our presence just in case they try to use them against us.

“Isaiah, unload the armory.” Beckett ignores Vic, turning to our packmate. “Jordan, take the omegas into the cabins. Try to keep them calm.”

“Everyone, arm up. Don’t try anything stupid. We don’t know who these assholes are.” Wesley hands me a gun and a knife, and I adjust the holster around my shoulder. He doesn’t let Beckett argue with me and instead takes control as his second in command.

“Holly, don’t leave my side. We need to confront the threat head-on.” Beckett stands tall and looks at Andrew. “Protect her at all costs. If anyone even looks at her, kill them.”

His command vibrates across my body, Beckett’s authority sexy yet intimidating. I know he’s not happy with my decision, but it must be this way. We all knew there was a risk accepting this position.

“Send a distress call to Gilded Sands. Tell them our coordinates.” Beckett hands Wesley a bulky phone. I’m assuming it’s a satellite one that can ensure our message reaches my brothers. He turns to the other alphas. “One of you needs to barricade the cockpit. No one gets in.”

I try to suppress the nerves bunching my stomach, everyone getting into place. The yacht rocks on the ocean, and I watch through the glass window as a rope ladder snags on the guardrail, a small anchor locking it to the metal bars.

Rushing past me, Beckett enters the side deck and saws a serrated knife across the rope of the anchor, sending the ladder falling back to where it came from.

He points his gun toward the sky and fires, the sound of the gunshot ringing in my ears. “We are armed!” he hollers, the deep baritone of his voice shouting over the waves. “Do not board this vessel.”

Only the roar of the ocean fills the air, the silence of everyone else deafening. I expect another ladder to be hooked to the side of our yacht. I didn’t expect the intruders to back off. Maybe they’ve come to their senses. Maybe they realize we aren’t just some ordinary people out for a nighttime cruise.

Beckett’s chest rises and falls as he listens to the world around us, the door to the saloon open, letting in the cool breeze.

“Get behind me,” Andrew says, his whisper tickling my ear. He steps in front of me like he believes I might argue, but I don’t. I can’t move a muscle, my focus solely on the unnerving quiet.

Beckett squares his shoulders and shuffles forward, his footsteps quieter than the pounding of my heart. He slowly closes the space to the guardrail, preparing to assess the situation.

A spotlight glows from his right, illuminating him in a golden halo. He shields his eyes and shoots his gun with one hand, not bothering to wait. If the intruders are on our boat, they aren’t here on good terms.

Charging at the door, Beckett slides inside and slams it, locking it. It must be more than he can handle, or the spotlight just makes it impossible to know what’s going on. I’m glad he’s not the type to rush into battle without a plan. There’s a reason my brothers trust him and the Silverstein Pack.

“Holly, get out of here. Do not argue,” Beckett commands, his sharp voice like a slap in the face. It’s not often that he demands something of me with the expectation that I’d follow without resisting.

It must be bad. Really fucking bad. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Beckett so wide-eyed. Scared. I can smell his citrus scent radiating with his perspiration.

“This is a hostile takeover, and we will not comply. Do you guys understand? Shoot on sight. We will not be taking any prisoners.” Beckett points his gun at the glass door, staring at the deck glowing in the spotlight.

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