Chapter 27
Through his hysteria, Fenrir heard screaming. At first, he thought it might be his doing, but he’d always gone quiet in the face of fire, and this time was no different.
Flames blazed all around him, filling the room with flashes of bright light and accompanying billows of thick, black smoke. The office was the second largest in the building, which bought him time, though a lot of good that did him since he spent it coming apart.
Flashes of the past, of how close he’d come to death, how painful it was to suffer from lack of oxygen, had him crawling to the exit. He tried the knob even knowing it was no use, then threw himself against the door enough times his already damaged shoulder protested in agony.
Nails broke when he dug them into the soft layer of wood around the knob, though there was no chance he’d be able to claw his way out of here.
His heart was racing a mile a minute, and it was getting harder to breathe and see.
This time, there was no oxygen mask to prevent him from dying.
Soon, he would pass out, and once that happened…
He’d never wake up.
A frantic, desperate sound slipped from his lips, and he pulled his shirt up over his nose in a last-ditch attempt to stave off the smoke.
Only to get a deep inhale of alpha musk.
His alpha.
It’d been his one caveat when he’d agreed to be parted.
Fen had demanded he be given sets of Oberon’s clothing to wear.
At first, he’d been a bit embarrassed, but that hadn’t stopped him from voicing his needs.
It’d stemmed from lingering fears of influx, and he’d hoped having his alpha’s scent readily available, on his person, against his skin, might help soothe him.
Oberon had made a big show of scenting every item before placing them in the duffle bag that was going to be snuck into Frost Loans ahead of time.
Teasing him and grinning as he flooded his smell into the fabric, all while Fenrir had rolled his eyes and pretended not to know that his cheeks were staining a humiliating shade of scarlet.
Heat licked at Fenrir’s back, but he felt it more vividly this time, his mind clearer and more focused.
This wasn’t anything like those times he’d been locked up at the estate, and not because he didn’t have a fancy oxygen mask.
The room was always prepared for him well in advance to ensure it was hotter than hell the moment Fenrir was shoved inside. While the fire behind him was hot, it’d yet to reach that extreme temperature the same way.
He was also mated now. The energy within him stabilized in a way it hadn’t been when he’d been Michelle’s pet.
Fenrir called to his power, swearing when it was difficult. It was his own fault for using so much earlier. Maybe this was karmic justice. Maybe Light was punishing him for going on a killing spree.
Or maybe he just wasn’t trying hard enough.
He took another deep inhale, holding the air, and the smell of his alpha, in his lungs as he pulled harder on that invisible thread.
A piece of equipment exploded behind him, plastic and glass shards shooting forward.
Fenrir hissed as a few of them made contact, lodging into him, but grasped onto the doorknob and pushed all of his focus there.
The metal was already hot and uncomfortable to touch, but it was nothing compared to the way his skin felt like it was melting and his head swam. He was out of time. If he didn’t get this door open within the next five or ten seconds, he really would die.
And then Oberon would be left on his own.
Or worse…
It’d been a setup, the alpha’s presence here tonight, and yet, Fen couldn’t help but picture his alpha on the prowl after he was gone. If Fenrir died, it would give him the perfect opportunity to seek out another lover.
To replace him as his omega.
“Over my dead body,” he growled.
Except, no, it was the opposite.
If he didn’t want Oberon with someone else, Fen needed to stick close by his side. Had to watch him. Had to make sure no one else could get any dumb ideas and think they stood a chance.
Something dark and dormant within him roared and he felt a pulsation and a pop just as his power connected with his mind.
Ice flowed out of him, freezing the brass in his hand. It was a fight against the heat, ice melting almost as quickly as he could form it, so Fenrir stepped in closer, shielding the knob protectively with his body, even as fire licked at his arm and caught the cuff of his pants.
He didn’t even notice.
There was a voice in his head screaming at him now, not to escape, but to hunt.
To break free so he could find King before anyone else did.
To find him and claim him the way a Shout should.
The metal crumbled in his hand suddenly and he fell forward, landing on the ground out in the hallway where the air was mostly clean, gasping.
Alarms blared loudly, and red flashing lights made him dizzy as he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled.
The second he regained his balance, he started to run, completely unaware of the fire making quick work of the walls at either side of him or the ceiling overhead.
Instinct was a funny thing. Maybe if Fenrir hadn’t spent more than half of his life fighting against his, he would have recognized what he was experiencing sooner, but alas. His primal urges took full control, spurring him onward almost mindlessly.
Images flashed through his mind as he ran. The first time he met Oberon’s green gaze.
The first time he caught his scent.
The feel of the alpha’s mouth on his.
The way he held him close at night while he slept.
The way he’d sounded when he’d told Fen that he was his pack.
With each recollection, a wave of frost poured out of him, ghosting across the floorboards and up the tacky wallpaper. Windows shattered, first from the heat from the ensuing flames, and then from the pressure of the ice that snuffed those embers out.
Power leaked from his pores, energy zapping and crackling in the air around him, and his omega pheromones followed suit, bursting and quarrelling against the smell of char and smoke.
What was that thing Oberon had once said to him?
That absolutely perfect, incredible thing?
That before him, Fen had been a hybrid who had endured.
That was true.
But Fenrir was sick of enduring.
He wanted to thrive.
He caught the fresh scent from the top of the stairs and picked up the pace, taking the steps two at a time, so that he practically flew down them.
His alpha came into focus first, eyes wide, standing next to a bleeding…someone. Someone Fenrir should know but that he couldn’t bring himself to place or care about in the moment. Words were too hard, let alone names.
Only one name mattered.
Only one thing.
The gun was the next object his mind processed, held by another unimportant face that tickled his recognition. The female holding it turned toward him, weapon raised, but Fenrir was so far ahead of her, it was almost laughable.
As if he’d allow anything to stand between him and his mate.
His ice was already sweeping the steps ahead of him, trailing down the banister. The cold wave hit those below a second before his feet touched the ground, and the woman holding the gun shivered, giving him the perfect opportunity to strike.
She got a single shot off but he easily dodged, backhanding her arm so the weapon went flying. His fingers found her throat and squeezed, and he poured that chill into her as he kept walking, eyes locked onto his prize even as he choked the pathetic creature in his hold.
The second she went limp he tossed her to the side, instantly forgetting all about her existence.
The alpha—his alpha—was only twenty feet away now, and he opened his mouth and said something, but Fenrir couldn’t catch it through the ringing in his ears. When that seemed to confuse his prize and the alpha retreated a step, he growled out a warning.
Movement over the alpha’s shoulder caught Fenrir’s attention, and he glanced up to discover there were others approaching. Two males and a female.
Also familiar.
Also unimportant.
Only, the female spoke then and whatever she said caught his alpha’s attention. He turned his head toward her, giving Fenrir his side.
Fen did not like that.
His hand moved, flinging several large icicles straight toward the threat.
The woman flipped backward in the air, smoothly avoiding his attack, but it was no matter, it’d bought him the precious seconds he’d needed to reach his prey.
Fenrir wrapped his arms around his alpha and yanked him against his chest. Before the man could even think to struggle, he buried a hand in silky blond hair and pulled his head to the side, exposing the length of his neck.
He barely wasted a second staring at that attractive golden throat before Fen sunk his teeth into it and bit down as hard as he could. The taste of copper exploded on his tongue as blood gushed into his mouth, and he held on, restricting the alpha’s movements as he struggled. It didn’t last.
All at once, the large man in his hold went limp, and they both dropped, Fenrir taking a knee, keeping the alpha close and his teeth buried.
His gaze caught the female he’d attacked, the one who’d evaded, and he glared, daring her to try something.
Daring her to defy his claim now that he’d given the bite.
Power flowed through him directly into the alpha’s bloodstream, intrinsically tying them together.
The bond between them pulsated and solidified, a solid thing he could feel as easily as he could his fingers when he flexed them.
“Precious.” The alpha reached back and captured him around the nape, pressing down as though to get his attention. “I’m cold.”
Cold?
Cold.
Oh.
The room was covered in snow and ice, a fine layer coating the alpha’s body.
Fenrir cut his power instantly.
“Okay.” The alpha patted him. “Now your teeth.”
He growled.
“Trust me, omega, that isn’t healing. You did good. It’s starting to hurt though.”
Omega?
Who was the omega?
Who—
He let go with a gasp, falling onto his ass in the process.
The alpha twisted in his hold, green eyes glowing neon, like tiny beacons in a dark forest summoning Fenrir home.
“King,” his name was spoken almost reverently, tumbling off his lips on a full body sigh that made all his muscles go lax and any remaining tension melt away.
“Yeah, precious. It’s me. We—”
He didn’t hear the rest of that sentence.
Completely drained, Fenrir passed out.