Page 79 of Wild Omega

Fury radiates up through my chest and my scent explodes like it’s burned. I surge up, slapping at his hand and growling with a vengeance I didn’t know I had. But I’m still a small guy.

Hudson laughs and grabs me around the throat. I trip on Red as he drags me off the couch. “Big words from a Chihuahua-sized man,” he says with a malicious chuckle.

I flail my fists, but my blows bounce off him as his grip on my throat tightens. Everything seems to slow. My breath chokes off and my lungs burn. Over his bulky shoulder I watch as my redheaded omega rises like a fiery phoenix, her pale eyes blazing with divine wrath. She throws the blanket aside and reaches for her purse, flung carelessly on the coffee table when we came home.

“You take your fucking hands off my man, or I swear you’ll lose a body part.” The cold malice in her tone sends a shiver up even my spine as she brandishes her silver fork.

Hudson whistles and grins. “You picked a fiery one, Rick.”

She snarls, lips curling back. “Final warning, asshole. Take your hands off him.”

I cling to Hudson’s arms, trying to lever him off and find more air for my shrinking lungs. “No, Red,” I rasp out, terrified of her getting hurt by the big beta.

Hudson sneers at me. “Stick to being a pretty cock, darling, and—”

That fork arcs through the air, every bit as dazzling as the Grim Reaper’s scythe. It drives into his exposed forearm and the tines sink halfway in. Hudson screams and releases me. My legs give out and I drop to the floor. I try to warn my love, but my bruised throat won’t operate. Pain radiates through my neck and chest.

“You bitch!” Hudson roars.

Red throws my unfinished glass of tea in his face, and then vaults over the couch armrest to dive into the kitchen. I slump, shivering on the floor, but when he follows her, I lurch forward and grab his ankle, tripping him. Hudson roars as he hits the corner of the table and face plants over the edge.

Red reappears, brandishing my Japanese Damascus steel kitchen knife. “Try me, motherfucker!” she yells, sidling around the back of the couch toward me. “Didn’t you hear him say no? He means fucking no, and if you don’t get the fuck out, this one’s going straight through your balls.”

Hudson, thrashing to get upright in the small space, hesitates. Blood wells up from the four divots in his arm and trickles down his wrist. Red takes a step toward him, and he shimmies back across the table, knocking off my bag and the other cup. His eyes track the movement as it falls.

The glass hits the floor and shatters. Ozzie flaps against his cage and shrieks in panic.

Ignoring the noise, Red takes another step forward and lifts the knife. “Don’t you even think about it, you cock-sucking bitch.” Daylight streams in from the window behind, lighting her up.

She’s a flaming Valkyrie come to my aid. My vision blurs and a faint laugh bubbles through my swollen throat. Glorious.

“Get out,” I husk, every sound painful. I want to say more, to explain to Red, but even swallowing makes agonizing waves of heated pain flare through my neck.

“You’ll regret this,” Hudson snarls, face ugly with rage.

“Regret? Not in a million years,” my omega hisses back.

I sway, wondering why Red looks even more beautiful when angry when everyone else tends to look hideous. I struggle to my feet and step to her side, presenting a united front. Adrenaline burns through me, cold and vibrant, but my throat sizzles like it’s on fire.

Hudson backs out the door. I want to tell him I’ll ship his things, or better yet burn them, but the words don’t come. As I move to slam the door on his ass, blue lights swirl across my porch, reflecting up the narrow, boxed-in stairs to this second floor.

“Shit!” I grate out hoarsely. The sirens that hadn’t registered while we were all screaming at one another now sound loudly along the street. “OCB,” I mutter thickly, the movement aching through my neck. I shut the door and lean against it. A neighbor must have reported the screaming. I groan. How am I supposed to protect my omega?

The coffee table’s skewed thanks to Hudson landing on it and as I track around the room, I spot the access hole in the ceiling. I drag the low table over to one side and jump up to lift the hatch. “Manhole,” I choke out, turning to point it out to Red.

She calmly slips her left leg inside her black one-piece suit, then the right, drawing the clinging fabric up her body, knife still gripped in her fist. Somehow she manages to look like a supermodel doing nothing more than prepping for the next catwalk.

I tense as the sound of voices and boots filters in under the door. “Red, hide,” I wheeze.

She strolls over and tugs me off the table. “No, Rickon.”

Tears pool in my eyes at the resolute set of her jaw.

“I don’t want you doing anything illegal.” Her smile falters. “If anyone asks, you had no idea I was wanted, okay?”

I shake my head in refusal, but she catches my chin with feather-light fingers and smiles. The lethal knife blade swings an inch away from my ear, but I feel safe with her. “We can’t be telling different stories. They’re going to catch up to me sooner or later, so I might as well turn myself in now. Just promise me something.” Her voice cracks a little. “Promise me you won’t leave me in the Center to rot.”

Tears spill down my cheeks. “What will happen to you?”

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