Page 123 of Wild Omega

“Fuck off!” I scream, shoving him aside and running through the open doorway. I have to get out of here. Have to flee to safety.

A small, sane part of me clings to the other Red, begging her to calm down. I’m not in the bad place where they locked me up and stole my haze. But she won’t listen. I’m a passenger on a runaway train and all I can do is hang on.

I flee through the house, crashing into doors and slipping. Everywhere the wooden floorboards seem wet, and I can’t manage to keep my footing. Pain lances through me as I crash into a display cabinet, sending dishware and awards flying. A bird squawks, sounding hazy and far away.

It’s too open, too exposed, out here, but I can’t go back to darkness. I dart through the next doorway I find and slam the lock into place. My chest heaves as my breaths burn through me, and cramps squeeze my body without mercy.

My heat has arrived, and I think this one really might kill me.

Chapter fifty-one

Callisto

Screams wake me from a deep sleep, and I hurl myself out of bed amidst an adrenaline dump. Sounds like someone being murdered. I fumble in the dark and stub my toe on the bed base. Agony burns through my foot. “Shit!”

But those feral cries cut me more painfully and a strangling sensation chokes me as I throw open the door. “Callisto!” Ricky cries from down the hall. “She’s gonna burn the house down!”

What the fuck?

Rickon yelps, and Red barrels through the door to the nest. I stiffen as a cloud of her scent explodes through the hall. Every alpha instinct comes alive. An omega’s in heat. I slip on water splashed down the hall as I stumble to the nest.

Tears track down Rickon’s face and he nurses one bleeding arm against his chest as he swipes something off the floor. “She’s gonna hurt herself,” he cries, stricken.

“What’s going—?” One glance at the nest stops me in my tracks. The room’s destroyed; a bottle of cooking oil slowly leaks out in the center, shattered glass from the framed pictures covers the floor, pillow stuffing dots everything like snow, and pieces of wrecked lighting cable tops the mess.

A jolt runs through my heart. Did she even think to disconnect the cable before cutting through? Holy shit, she could’ve electrocuted herself. Turning, I find Rickon holding a lighter and a piece of my soul cracks. She was going to burn it all. But why?

“Where is she?” I gasp.

Rickon points downstairs. My heart breaks for him as much as Red as I fling myself down the steps three at a time. A trail of destruction leads through to my small downstairs library and when I try the handle, it’s locked.

“Red?” I knock lightly.

Rickon arrives, panting. “She in there?”

I lean my ear cautiously against the door. “I think so.” The handle rattles as I try again.

“Go away!” the omega screams through the barrier.

Rickon and I share a loaded glance. At least we know where she is, and the room has only one entrance.

Ricky shoulders me out of the way and places both palms flat against the door. “What’s wrong, Biscuit? Talk to me.”

“You can’t have it!” she shouts back. The ferocity in her voice notches my adrenaline up all over again.

Rickon squeezes his eyes shut. “Have what? You’re in heat, baby, and I just want to help you.”

She screams in real fury. “Fuck off! Just fucking leave me alone! Haven’t you done enough damage?”

Ricky steps back, like the words have dealt him a physical blow.

“Could she be tripping?” I murmur. As far as I know, no drugs enter my house, but the entertainment industry is full of it. Someone might have slipped her something at the studio.

Rickon shakes his head helplessly. “No. She’s been waspish all day but didn’t tell me her heat was coming, and I didn’t connect the dots.” He grinds his palms into his eyes. “I’m such an idiot!”

I ball my hands into fists, feeling useless, until I spy blood trickling down my friend’s arm. I can at least deal with what’s in front of me. “Keep talking to her,” I say. “We know she’s conscious if she’s talking.”

I find the medical kit under the kitchen sink and bring it back, patching up Rickon’s bleeding arm while he talks through the door. The punctures form in two distinct half circles, clearly bite marks.

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