Page 63 of Knot Going Down (OlympicVerse #3)

AVA

I am an omega. And I’m not going down without a fight.

The omega in me isn’t docile or demure. She’s feral. Snarling. She wants blood for what they’ve done—for hurting Declan and Knox, for touching Lucas, for even breathing near Emily.

Glenn Plansky is already a corpse. He just doesn’t know it yet.

I wasn’t sure I could override the scent neutralizer I slathered on before we left Emily’s. Wasn’t sure I could perfume on command, let alone strong enough to grab every alpha in the room by the throat. But it turns out…

It’s not that hard.

All I had to do was think about my pack.

Tangled together, sated and unhurt. Declan’s hands. Knox’s mouth. Emily’s lips. Lucas’s laugh. Safe and sound. Celebrating this guy’s demise with naked limbs and bites and bonds.

That thought alone detonates something inside me.

My scent is all hunger and heat. It hits like a drug, thick and cloying and impossible to ignore.

The reaction is immediate.

Every alpha in the room groans, and for a second Glenn’s eyes go glassy, rolling back in his head. The gun lowers a centimeter. Just enough.

I move . I lunge, wrapping my legs around him before he even realizes I’m coming. He thinks it’s a kiss—fucking pervert. But I slam my forehead into his nose so hard I see stars. He reels, crashing into the edge of the desk, and I keep swinging.

My fists are a blur.

“No. One. Touches. My. Mates!” I scream, every word a punch, my voice raw and fierce.

Behind me, I hear the sharp crash of a vase smashing against the wall, glass scattering like broken promises. The scuffle grows louder. Grunts, the scrape of shoes on carpet, a sharp cry from someone grappling with a henchman.

My vision tunnels. I hit harder, fists fueled by pure rage and adrenaline, every nerve screaming.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my middle, pulling me back from an unconscious Glenn with unyielding force.

I struggle, wild and desperate, but then I catch Declan’s scent—earthy, calm, like a forest after rain—and I collapse into the embrace.

My knuckles sting. My head throbs. But it’s okay, because he’s here. He’s got me. My alpha.

“Omega,” he says with a note of pride. Reverence. “My omega.”

A guard slumps against the wall nearby, a dark stain of blood spreading across his forehead. The room hangs heavy with the aftermath of chaos as the rest of my pack closes in around me. Emily steps forward, cupping my face gently like I’m something precious, steadying me in the storm.

“I’m sorry,” I say, voice cracking. “I should’ve listened. I should’ve stayed back. Instead, I put you in danger.”

“No.” She’s crying, but she’s smiling. “You were right. They needed us. We needed this. And you—you saved them.”

“You were perfect.” Declan brushes a kiss over my temple.

Lucas hovers behind him. “Hate to break this up, but uh… we should go. Now.”

“He’s right,” Knox says, kissing my bloody knuckles.

Declan moves to the desk, doing something on Glenn’s computer before scooping me into his arms like I weigh nothing and hurrying out of the room.

Knox guides him, cradling his left arm as he leads us down the back stairs.

We slip into the kitchen, drawing a few confused stares from catering staff who wisely decide to mind their own business.

Outside, the night air hits like a slap. There’s a patrol nearby, but we sneak past them, sticking to shadows until we reach Emily’s car. We pile in—awkward, breathless, alive.

I lie across Knox’s lap in the back seat, Emily’s fingers threaded with mine, and start to drift, exhaustion claiming me all at once.

The last thing I feel is Knox brushing his lips over my temple and whispering,

“Rest easy, love. We’re safe. I’ve got you.”