Page 121
Story: Saving the Pack's Omega
“I scented it—” I say, my voice not quite loud enough to carry over the chaos around us.
“What?” He asks, jerking his gaze down to meet mine.
“I scentedhim.”
The alpha who abused me.
The alpha who wanted to buy me.
The alpha who wanted toownme.
I emphasize the wordhimand that’s all Madden needs in order for things to click.
He starts barking orders at the security, his dominance swirling around us.
“Close down the ballroom,” Madden barks.
“What the hell is going on?” The Director snaps back in return. “Why the hell are we doing that?”
“You’ve got a crazy, psycho omega trafficker somewhere in there,” Madden growls back.
“What the fuck?” The Director immediately pulls out his phone and starts rapidly texting.
“What did he look like, Moonlight?” Chase asks, his jaw ticking.
“Tall and—and with dark hair and eyes, around his late forties,” I say, trying to keep up with the chaos going around me. “He—he smells like burning plastic to me.”
“Got it,” The Director says, putting his phone to his ear. “You guys go. Keep Luna safe.”
“We will,” Madden says, as if he’s taking a vow.
The world is a blur, even when they carry me outside. The freezing cold night air makes goosebumps rise on my arms, but does nothing to cool the burning I feel under my skin. It just makes me start shivering.
We all pile into the car, with Kane in the driver’s seat and Chase, Madden, Archer and I in the back of the car.
I don’t know what happens, but I think Archer somehow gets the backseat lowered.
“Lay her down here,” he orders. “And get the car moving, Kane!”
Madden moves to set me down on what feels like a blanket. I have no clue where Archer found it, but I’m not complaining. Its softness feels so much better against my exposed skin than the bottom of the car would, or even the chiffon of my dress.
When Madden moves away from me, the loss of his warmth causes a wave of cramps to hit me. It’s like my body automatically knows that an alpha is leaving, and it really doesn’t like that.
“Please,” I whimper, clutching against the front of his dress shirt.
I don’t even really know what I’m begging for. Sure, I know what I need to feel better. I know all omegas need alphas during their heat, or whatever this is, since I’m pretty sure it’s not my fullheat. I don’t know whether I’m begging him to hold me, kiss me, or fuck me in the back of this car. To be completely honest, the fear of my past aside, I think I’d be okay with all of the above.
All I can really picture is having them close, which means I don’t want them to leave me.
“Fuck,” Madden curses under his breath. I can see his pupils dilating as he stares down at me. See his nostrils flaring as he scents me. See the hard outline of him in his dress pants.
But he stays still. He doesn’t touch me.
It makes tears well in my eyes.
Maybe I’m not good enough. Maybe they don’t want anything to do with me. Maybe they want an omega who’s not broken like I am.
Fear twists inside of me. What if they don’t want to help me?
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