Page 45 of Pack Owned
Tears prick at my eyes, blurring everything into a watercolor mess. Flashes of fractured memories start strobing through my mind—fragments of that primal fear that still make me shudder like I’m goddamn freezing.
“You’re so fucking brave for fighting him off,” he murmurs. “And for sharing this with me. I’m here for you, Kayla. You’re safe now.” He holds out his arm, offering me a side hug.
Hesitantly, I do, and he simply wraps his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean into his strength. We stay like that for a while, him holding me while Isob. When I’ve cried all my tears, he gently wipes them away with the pad of his thumb.
It isn’t long before my eyelids get too damn heavy to keep open. I barely register Liam shifting, reaching over to gently pull a blanket over me. His soothing presence is the last thing I feel as I drift off into oblivion.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, his voice comforting. “I’ve got you.”
I feel... safe, like I can trust him, and I drift off to sleep.
I’m not sure how long I was out, but I jolt awake, disoriented as hell. Liam’s gone, but I’m cocooned in his bed, his lingering scent wrapped around me like a security blanket. Even when he’s not here, the guy manages to make me feel safe and looked after.
I really should go to my own bed and get a little more sleep, set the alarm before I sneak out in a few hours, but I curl up deeper in Liam’s bed, wanting the sensation to last. Telling myself that it’s not anything, just silly Omega hormones and being in a true Alphas bed.
After ten more minutes and Liam doesn’t return, I drag myself from his warm, comfy bed to go to the bedroom I’ve been sleeping in. Blurry eyed, I set the alarm for 4:30 a.m. and collapse into the bed, wishing I wasn’t alone.
CHAPTER 14
RYKER
Can’t fucking sleep. Every time I close my eyes or hell, even when they’re open, I’m obsessing over Kayla. Not even a scalding shower does any fucking good. The way she’s fragile yet defiant twists my gut into knots of carnal need. I can’t stop imagining her soft lips and the curves of her body barely concealed beneath thin clothes.
Almost told our boss at Pryce Corp Bounty Hunting Services about finding her, but the thought left a sour taste in my mouth. I deleted the text before sending it. Told myself that it wasn’t because of Liam’s insistence that she was our Omega that held me back.
The thought of her lips, her body, her scent—it all consumes me, making sleep impossible. The primal need to protect her, to possess her, gnaws at me relentlessly.
Am I fooling myself?
Fated mates are a fantasy for pampered Alphas, not for hardened bounty hunters like me. We deal in cold, hard cash, not some cosmic joke of a soulmate.
Yet every time I get too close to Kayla, a raw, primal energy pulses between us. It’s like a force trying to draw me closer, a need that goes beyond reason. But I shove it down, bury it deep.
And fuck, that damn ambush at the cabin. What the hell was that about? Bullets whizzing past. We got Kayla out, barely. My pulse still races, thinking about it. Who were the clowns playing target practice? The bastards shooting at us put Kayla in danger, too, so that doesn’t make sense. Was it the black truck goons or some trigger-happy bounty hunters?
One thing’s for sure, I’ll get to the bottom of this, even if it means clawing my way through every layer of lies. And I need to see if I can get Kayla to open up about the other Omegas… about what happened on that fucking bus.
Right now, though, I need to get out of the mansion and away from the temptation of Kayla.
I pull on my jeans and biker boots, the familiar weight grounding me. A t-shirt and my leather biker jacket follow.
Gotta clear my head, get my fucking heart to stop pounding like I’m having a heart attack whenever I think about handing her over. She ain’t our pampered Omega, no matter what Liam claims. Scumbags like us don’t have that kinda clout, not even with my bastard father’s stacks of cash. Old money also runs deep in Nexus, and privilege and who you know is fucking everything.
Doesn’t matter that it’s the dead of night. The garage door groans open, and I throw a leg over my bike, the engine roaring. No helmet—not expecting traffic at this hour. The electronic gate swings open, granting my escape down the vacant road.
The road curves sharply, and I lean hard into it, the roar of the engine vibrating through my bones. The cool night air whips against my face, stinging my eyes as I keep the bike hugging the road. I barely avoid nailing a damn possum playing chicken.
Elara loved racing down this road. The searing guilt tightens its icy grip on my chest.
Memories assault me, dragging me back to nightmares I’ve spent years running from. I’m ten years old again, heart hammering as the harsh white walls of the hospital close in. My sister Elara clutches our father, tears streaking her dirt-smudged face.
“Please…don’t send me away,” she screams, voice raw with panic. But the guards wrench her away, her muffled cries echoing long after she’s gone.
Dad grins as he accepts the cash for selling his own daughter to a rogue Alpha. A way for him to get quick cash to pay for his gambling debts. The Alpha who bought her flew into a rage when he discovered she wasn’t a virgin. In his frenzy, he viciously caved her head in, killing her.
A choked moan escapes my throat, pulling me back to the present. I’m fucking drowning in the past, the air too thin, crushed by the weight of failure. Elara, my sister, was gone because I was too weak to protect her, too scared to face my father.
Ever since Elara, I believed Omegas were better off with Nexus since they thoroughly vet their Alphas. The Omegas are treated like precious celebrities there, and if Dad had done the right thing, my sister would still be alive. I thought Nexus knew better than anyone which Omega went with which Alpha or Alphas. Now, with Kayla, I’m not so sure.
