18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Phoenix
E mma's pleasure ebbs, leaving her boneless and limp in Asher’s arms, a sweet, relieved sigh easing past her parted lips. The tension stiffening my muscles falls away as blissful peace washes over her features. She’s passed out cold, sinking into a healing rest.
Asher carefully eases his slick-coated fingers from her body.
Before I can even register what he's doing, he lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, lost to instinct.
His scent spikes hot and sharp then abruptly explodes with a deep richness.
He groans, jolting as his gaze goes stunned and glazed.
Shocked understanding hits me, and I let out a startled laugh. “Did you just... in your pants?”
He barely registers my teasing, his eyes half-lidded and dark with satisfaction. He meets my gaze without a trace of embarrassment, pride radiating clearly from him. “You'd do exactly the same if you'd tasted her.”
No truer words have been spoken.
Soren sits back on his heels. “That was…” he murmurs, as though words can't possibly describe what we just shared, “I've never seen anything so beautiful.”
I can't resist a faint, teasing grin. “Asher…or our omega?”
Soren shoots me a weary glare. “Her, asshole. Always her.”
Emma turns toward Asher, tucking herself closer against his chest. That wild, desperate edge of heat is thankfully softened by our touch.
Thank fuck this was only a spike in her heat and not the real deal.
At least now there'll be time—time to wait until she's fully ready, able to consciously choose us, give consent without question or doubt.
A fresh wave of protectiveness fills me mixing in equal measure with the bitter taste of anger and grief. My expression sobers as hard reality resurfaces. “I can't believe those bastards never gave her an orgasm. Not even once.”
Asher's dark eyes flicker. “I think this was her first experience of anything soft or gentle.”
Soren curses under his breath. “Then we're going to rewrite every bad memory. Everything horrible inside her head gets turned to ash. We'll replace it all with tenderness. Pleasure. Love. Until she's never left questioning her worth ever again.”
Asher's fierce gaze connects with mine, his voice steady and unyielding. “That's a vow, a promise, and a blood oath.”
A crash of shattered glass echoes from downstairs followed by the unmistakable sound of heavy boots crunching over broken glass. We freeze, hearts pounding, every instinct screaming. Intruders are in our house.
Asher’s gaze meets mine. “Taker her, brother.”
There’s no hesitation between us. I slide my arms beneath Emma as Asher gently transfers her into my hold.
A small sound escapes Emma’s lips as I peel her off Asher’s chest before he crawls to the bathroom door and peeks out.
Her eyes are glazed and unfocused. She’s lost in the aftermath of her first orgasm and whatever-the-hell else took her down to that pool.
I’ll never forget Asher rising from the darkness with her in his arms. Why did she do it?
Was she so desperate to end everything? In my heart of hearts, I know there was a part of her that was.
Many trauma victims go through that. The combination of physical and emotional overload left her vulnerable and disconnected and we were too slow to catch her when she fell.
We made the mistake of leaving her alone.
Giving her space. It only gave her time for trauma to become the monster she didn’t need in her mind.
I guide her face to my neck, positioning her nose against my scent gland.
She’s our scent-matched mate and it will soothe her.
She inhales deeply and thank fuck her body slackens against mine with a sigh that travels to that soft center in my soul reserved for her.
Asher pulls back, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s clear out there, but they’re close.”
Soren and I nod. My heart pounds in my chest as Asher stands and hovers in the frame, using his body as a shield.
Soren crawls out of the stall, upholstering and checking his saturated gun. “Our weapons are useless. Everything's soaked through. The electronics are probably fried, too.”
I shift Emma's weight as I stand, my mind racing through options. “We need to get to the kitchen. There’s a stash of weapons behind a false panel in the pantry. Three Glocks, spare mags, knives. We grab what we can, then make for the SUV in the garage through access from the kitchen. I’m not facing them empty-handed. Not with Emma.”
Soren nods, his face set. “Agreed.”
Emma nuzzles deeper into my neck. She’s not cognizant of what’s happening and I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. Her breath comes in soft puffs against my skin, her body trembling from reaching her absolute limits .
“The stairs are out,” Asher says in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the bedroom door. His muscles are coiled tight, ready to spring into action. He cocks an ear. “They're already halfway up.”
Soren creeps to the window, fingertips quiet on the latch. “We go this way.”
I nod. There's no time for debate. There’s no other way out of this room bar the door.
I leave the shower running as I pace to the window. Let them waste time thinking we're still in there. The sound of water hitting tile might buy us precious seconds. I snag a blanket from the bed one-handed, the soft material catching on my wet skin as I wrap it around Emma's naked form.
Soren opens the window as I draw close to him. The cool night air hits us and I adjust the blanket around Emma.
“I'll go first,” Asher whispers, already swinging one leg over the sill. “When I’m down, hand her down to me.”
Then he’s out the window, dropping fifteen feet to the ground. He lands in a crouch, immediately straightening with his arms raised toward us.
I lean out to lower Emma as much as I can. She stirs, making a small sound of confusion as I release her into Asher's waiting arms. He catches her easily, cradling her against his chest.
The half open door slams into the wall and four figures surge into the bedroom, faces hidden behind balaclavas. Soren and I move automatically, years of training kicking in. I drive my shoulder into the first intruder's solar plexus while Soren's leg sweeps the second one's feet from under him.
The third attacker comes at me with a knife. I catch his wrist, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. The drywall cracks with the impact. The fourth tries to circle around us, heading for the window. Soren's elbow catches him in the throat, dropping him to his knees.
I block another knife thrust with my forearm. My wet clothes hamper my movement, but rage and instinct fuel my strikes. The first attacker rises, joining his friend in pressing me back. I duck under a wild swing, retaliating with an uppercut that sends one of them staggering .
Soren drives his knee into one attacker's ribs, following with a palm strike to the nose. His head snaps back and he drops unconscious to the floor.
“Your six!” Soren grunts. I spin, barely avoiding a taser aimed at my back. My roundhouse kick sends the weapon flying, followed by a combination of strikes that drives the attacker toward the door.
The intruder stumbles, off-balance. I capitalize on his moment of weakness, sweeping his legs and driving my knee into his sternum as he falls.
The impact knocks his sidearm loose. I snatch it up and chamber a round.
Four shots, four targets. I aim for legs.
Clean. Precise. The intruders groan on the floor, clutching non-fatal wounds.
They won't be following us anytime soon and we’ll need them alive to question after I call for reinforcements.
“Phoenix. Get out!” Soren shouts as more shadows fill the doorframe. He's already at the window, one leg over the sill.
I back toward him, keeping the gun trained on the door. Two more figures appear, but my warning shot sends them diving for cover.
“Go!” I tell Soren, laying down suppressing fire as he disappears through the window.
The moment I hear his feet hit the ground, I follow.
The fifteen-foot drop lasts forever, then I hit the grass in a roll that drives the air from my lungs.
We move like shadows, staying low and close to the house.
We step through the kitchen door that’s still open from when we picked Emma out of the pool while Soren covers our rear.
Emma stirs in Asher’s arms, making a small sound of confusion. “Alpha?”
His lips are set in a firm line as he hunches over her, protecting her with his body. He presses her face against his neck, splaying his fingers along her nape and through her damp hair. “We have you, Moonbeam. Stay quiet for us.”
The intruders are skilled, unlike the thugs from the hospital.
Not hired muscle but professional operators.
I bend and scurry behind the island counter.
The pantry is dark, but my fingers find the false panel.
Three quick taps, then slide left. The mechanism clicks, the compartment opens, and I grab weapons.
Movement in the doorway .
I spin, shielding Asher and Emma with my body as three figures surge into the kitchen.
“Here!” I thrust a Glock into Asher's free hand. Emma’s confused whimpers tear at my heart as she starts to stir, but we have no time for gentle.
Soren and I meet the attackers head-on. The fight is brutal, efficient. No wasted movement, no pulled punches. These aren't street thugs. They move in a familiar formation with familiar moves.
Soren takes a hit that would drop a normal man, retaliates with an elbow strike that cracks bone. I grapple with an attacker twice my size, both of us crashing into the kitchen island. Pots clatter to the floor, the noise deafening in the enclosed space.
A third intruder circles toward Asher and Emma. Asher’s Glock barks twice. Two precise shots that find a shoulder and a knee. Disabling but not lethal.
My attacker drives a knee into my ribs. I return the favor with a palm strike to his throat, following with a combination that sends him staggering. Behind me, I hear Emma's frightened cry as she becomes more aware of her surroundings.
“Hostiles incoming. Ten o’clock!” Asher rasps, shifting to keep Emma protected as a massive figure charges through the doorway.
I meet the attack head-on, ducking under a wild swing to drive my fist into his solar plexus.
He's big but telegraphs his moves. When he stumbles, I sweep his legs, following him down with an elbow strike to the temple and he drops unmoving to the floor.
His balaclava tears off in the struggle, revealing Carl Jones's face. What the fuck?
He should be on our side. Or he would be if he hadn’t been bought. How many of our own are we fighting? The betrayal burns, but I don't hesitate to take his weapon from his limp hand. His phone peeks out of his pocket and I take that off him too, shucking it into a damp pocket of my cargo pants.
Soren dispatches his attacker with a combination that ends with the man crumpled against the refrigerator. Asher's shot takes out the third, the intruder dropping with a knee wound .
We’d normally stop to investigate who these men are. At least pat them down for evidence, but none of us are willing to stick around and risk more hostiles finding us. Not with Emma so vulnerable.
“SUV. Garage. We’ve gotta get out of here.” Asher hands Emma back to me. She's more alert now, trembling against my chest, her fingers clinging to my shirt. She clenches her jaw as her teeth chatter. Her wild eyes are trained on the men on the floor and the sprays of blood over the counter.
Asher takes point, moving through the house.
Soren covers our six, his breathing controlled but heavy.
The garage door seems miles away but thankfully we don’t encounter any more intruders.
Asher opens the door, and we silently enter the garage.
Asher takes the fob off the rack we keep in the garbage and unlocks the SUV.
Soren holds the door open as I scramble into the back seat cradling Emma.
I clip the belt round both of us as Soren takes shotgun position and Asher dives behind the wheel.
I grip my Glock in my free hand, both of us ready to provide covering fire if needed.
The garage door opens and Asher guns the engine. The SUV's tires spin on polished concrete before finding grip, launching us forward with enough force to thrust me forward. The belt snaps against us. A small sound of distress escapes Emma as we rocket out of the garage.
The SUV fishtails as Asher cranks the wheel, tires screaming in protest as we careen onto the central driveway. The maneuver throws us sideways, my body curling around Emma to absorb the impact.
The engine roars as Asher floors it, acceleration pinning us back again.
Trees and buildings blur past, the SUV's headlights catching glimpses of more black-clad figures diving out of our path.
So many of them. Through the windshield, I see the guardhouse approaching fast, dark and empty.
The security barrier stands raised like an invitation, when it should be locked down tight.
“We’re being shadowed,” Soren snaps, twisting in his seat. Headlights flare in the side mirrors. One set, then another.
The SUV hits the main road with a squeal of tortured rubber, Asher wrestling the wheel to keep us stable as we accelerate even more. Emma whimpers against my chest, and I hold her tighter, my free hand keeping the Glock trained on the rear window where pursuit lights grow larger.
They planned this. They had inside help. And now they're hunting us.
“Hold on,” Asher growls, and presses the accelerator to the floor.