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I arrive just behind the four guys trying to jimmy the lock on Bailey’s door instead of before them. I see them breaking into the apartment; the door swinging open. The perfume of my alphas and Bailey hit me like a heady drug. For one moment, it almost undoes me, but I push everything back and focus on the driving need to protect.

Everything else comes last. It always has and always will.

I attack before I think the fierceness is driven by the terror that they’ll hurt the omega who is stealing my heart. Or take my alphas from me before I have a chance to figure things out. The thought of losing any or all of them has me moving in, deadly and determined to end this threat.

I recognise a Cobra tattoo, and my rage deepens. No mercy, then.

I pull out my knife in one silent motion and stab into them, ignoring the shrieks and squeals. There is no mercy. I don’t fight clean; I don’t give them a chance. They smell like Benson. I kill them all and then I pull the door shut, sealing my alphas and their omega in.

The hallway stinks of blood. It’s everywhere. I wasn’t clean. There are splatters on the ceiling.

I bend over, putting my hands on my knees and breathing deeply. My legs tremble, and it takes me a few moments to get my head clear enough to figure out who to call.

I don’t know anyone who can handle this. Shale is too far away. I don’t know Eben's whereabouts. Could I call the Raines? And owe Mirakill a favour? I think not.

Which leaves only one person. Damn.

I pull out my phone and let out a pained groan as my bruised ribs twang.

“I’m looking for Anderson,” I say quietly into my phone and pace away from their door, but not far enough away that I can’t see anyone who comes up the lift or stairs.

It takes some arguing, but I finally get put through. I let out a sob of relief.

“My name is Selene. I’m a friend of Bailey’s. I need your help.”

His voice, calm, confident, and deep, sounds out of the phone. “Selene. I’ve heard of you. What do you need?”

The MC rock up an hour later, the club takes over the block, the roar of harley’s shake the Earth. The building is purged and armed bikies lean against walls, chatting and smoking.

My alphas and their omega are safe.

I limp after Anderson. He smiles as he instructs one of his six-foot bikers to order the disposal of the bodies. I wait, only half paying attention to him. I recognise a couple of recruits who grew up in my neighbourhood.

No one says hello to me.

“We’ve got it from here. You can head home now,” Anderson says and glances at me dismissively.

I open my mouth to argue, to insist I need to stay, but he’s right. I’m not needed here. This isn’t my heat. There are people at home who need me.

They all left me again.

It’s a stupid thought because I left them, but it sits heavily, crushing me.

They said they wouldn’t. But they have.

“Okay, thank you,” I say through gritted teeth.

He’s already dismissed me and turned away. I’m nothing to him. And this is the father of the omega I’m falling for, and he thinks I’m so trashy he can’t even look at me.

Bailey Raines the scion of the Despair MC. No wonder he hates being an omega.

I turn and palm the keys to Bailey’s SUV. When some idiot tries to stop me, I kick his legs out from under him and snarl.

I look up to several guns pointed in my direction and Andy patiently waiting. His eyebrows slowly go up when I don’t back down.

“That’s my son’s car.” Absolute authority.

I could care less.