Page 58 of Dance Omega Dance

Kage emerged from the warehouse, his eyes glinting with violence. My blood crusted his knuckles, the copper tang of it filling my nostrils. Behind him, his thugs spread out in a loose semi-circle, cutting off any hope of escape. Slow, sadistic grins split their faces. They lived for this, the thrill of terrorizing the weak, the rush of dominating the defenseless.

I lifted my chin, meeting Kage’s icy gaze without flinching. Let him see the steel in my spine, the fire in my eyes. The girl who'd whimpered and pleaded was dead. In her place stood an omega who'd spilled blood and broken bones to survive. Who would do it again in a heartbeat to protect what was hers.

"What have we here?" Kage mocked. "Seems we've interrupted a tender moment."

His thugs barked harsh laughter, the ugly sound scraping along my raw nerves. Beside me, Blake tensed, a wounded animal preparing for one last, desperate lunge. I tightened my grip on his arm, trying to tether him to me, to us. Silently pleading with him not to throw his life away in a futile attack.

But before he could act on the suicidal impulse, a new sound split the air. The thud of running footsteps, heavy and urgent. My heart leapt into my throat, adrenaline spiking so hard I tasted copper on my tongue. More alphas. More enemies come to rip and tear, and destroy.

Then a familiar voice rang out, strong and sure. "Don't worry, cavalry's here!" Anders burst into view, with Zach hard on his heels. They were both bloody and disheveled, bearing the marks of their own desperate battles, but their eyes blazed with fierce determination. With the unshakable loyalty of a pack standing as one.

Anders wasted no time crossing the distance to sweep me into his protective embrace. His scent enveloped me, a chaoticriver as it broke its banks. I sagged against his chest; the adrenaline seeping from my exhausted muscles; the darkness encroaching on the edges of my vision.

But Anders' strong hands held me upright, his voice an anchor in the threatening maelstrom. "I've got you, Summer," he murmured, the words rumbling through his chest and into mine. "I'm here. You're safe now."

Through the haze of fatigue and relief, I saw Zach throw himself into the fray beside Blake, a wild grin splitting his face. His movements were economic, brutal, honed by years of fighting for survival in an unforgiving world. But I didn't miss the way he favored his left side, the stiffness in his torso that spoke of cracked ribs and deep bruising.

It had only been hours since they’d left him in the parking lot, broken and bleeding at the hands of Kage’s thugs. The acrid stench of fear, sweat, and despair rose from his battered flesh. He'd barely escaped with his life then. And now he was back in the thick of it, throwing himself between death and his pack mates without hesitation. Without any regard for his safety.

Because that's what a pack did. What family did.

I watched Blake and Zach surge forward as one, meeting the onslaught of alphas with the savagery of cornered wolves. They crashed into the wall of muscle, turning the tide through sheer force of will. Bones crunched, flesh tore, blood sprayed black in the guttering light. Anders joined in, taking down one alpha after another, slicing and dicing with the blades he’d brought to the fight.

It was chaos, madness, an unending nightmare of pain and brutality. And yet, in that moment, I'd never felt more certain of my place, my purpose. This was my pack. My family. The ones I would live for. The ones I would kill for.

Even if it costs me everything.

STANDING BACK AND NURSINGmy wounds, I didn’t see where Kage went. Not until his grip closed around my arm like a vise, his fingernails cutting into my flesh as he yanked me back against his chest. I felt the cold kiss of a blade at my throat, the razor-sharp edge digging into my skin. Terror turned my limbs to lead, my mind to static.

His rancid breath scorched my ear as he leaned in, his body a cage of coiled thunder at my back. "Not so brave now, are you, little Omega?" he sneered, the blade biting deeper, a hot trickle of blood sliding down my neck. "Where's that famous defiance?"

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the hammering of my heart, the icy certainty of my death. In that eternal, stretching second, I saw my future play out in the theater of my mind. My torn and broken body left to rot. Just another tragic headline. Another ruined omega.

No. Not like this. Not today.

Time slowed, the chaos around me fading to a distant buzz as a startling clarity descended. Zach's voice echoed in my head, steady and sure, guiding my muscles into remembered patterns. The angle of the arm. The twist of the wrist. The precise targeting of the most vulnerable joints.

I felt Kage’s chest expand against my back as he drew breath to taunt me again. In that split second of distraction, I moved.

My hand shot up, clamping around his wrist. Applying leverage. Rotating the radius. Thumb sliding to the pressurepoint at the base. Each motion was crisp and efficient; a perfect echo of the drills Zach had walked me through countless times.

Kage snarled in outrage as I cranked his wrist back, tendons popping, bones grinding. The knife wavered, the edge dragging fire across my throat. But I didn't stop. Didn't hesitate. Because Zach's voice was still there, an unshakable pillar in the hurricane of my terror.

"The elbow breaks before the wrist. Use that."

I pivoted, executing a quarter turn, dropping my center of gravity as I positioned my shoulder under his elbow joint. Then I torqued, throwing my entire body into the motion. A sharp, percussive pop sounded against the scream that came from his lips. The knife clattered to the ground.

For a single, suspended heartbeat, we both stared at the fallen blade. Then I lunged, my bleeding fingers scrabbling desperately for the hilt. Kage dove a split second behind me, his heavier bulk slamming me to the concrete. I didn't feel the impact, the pain. There was only the cold metal biting into my palm as I closed my fist around the handle.

Then I was rolling, coming up on one knee, arm cocked. The alpha loomed over me, spittle flying from his twisted lips as he reached for me, murder in his eyes. I didn't blink. Didn't breathe.

I struck, my arm surging forward. The knife punched into his chest with sickening ease. Time stretched and warped as I watched the blade sink to the hilt, the shock, and disbelief slackening his features. Hot blood gushed over my hand.

Kage stumbled back a step. Two, in fact. His hands came up, pawing ineffectually at the knife jutting from his sternum. A strange, wet rattle gargled from his throat, pinkish froth bubbling on his lips. His legs folded, and he crumpled to the floor with a thud that I felt in my bones. In my soul.

Slowly, so slowly, I pushed to my feet. The handle of the knife protruded obscenely from the alpha leader's chest, a violent tag marking my handiwork. I stared down at him, watching the light fade from his eyes. Watching as he went still and slack, just another broken doll on a concrete floor.

I'd done that. Me. The cowering flower, the fragile teacup, the girl who'd needed rescuing and protecting. With my own hands, I had taken a life. Had looked my worst nightmare in the eye and spat in its face. My parents would be proud.

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