Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
“He sure knows how to give a villain speech,” Sebastian quips, staring at his phone as Tyler’s voice plays through the speaker.
When Harvey called us, we thought for sure something had gone wrong. Instead, Sebass, Athena, and I have been able to listen in as they questioned Tyler on his motives.
“This is some shit I’ve only heard spewed on deep corners of the internet,” Sebastian continues, clicking away at his laptop.
“But he’s not the only person with this type of attitude.
Alphas are being radicalized younger and younger, spending their formative years being told that, despite being arguably the strongest and the most dominant designation, they’re disenfranchised and discriminated against. It’s bullshit, but it’s pervasive. ”
Based on the shuffling sounds, they’ve made it to the compound and are getting out of the car. I look over at my Omega, who’s been quiet this whole time.
Her hands are shaking, and she’s gnawed her lip to the point where I’m worried it’ll bleed.
She’s stressed out, her face pale, but even in the shitty fluorescent lighting of this conference room, she’s beautiful.
Before we left for the compound, she quickly dressed in a pair of black jeans that cling to her thick thighs and a baggy grey shirt that I am pretty sure is Wyatt’s.
“I always thought he sounded like he was just some guy at the bowling alley,” Athena says softly.
Valkyrie’s voice comes through the speaker for the handoff.
Tyler spews some bullshit in response to something Harvey said, but I’m not paying attention because my Omega’s mouth is hanging open, and she’s clutching at her chest.
And then I hear two gunshots, and the line goes dead.
Athena screams, sliding out of her chair and collapsing onto the ground, pulling at the collar of her shirt as if she could pull the bonds from her chest if she tried hard enough.
The swirling, bristling presence within me I’ve learned is Atlas spikes with fear, and then nothing.
It’s quiet.
Sebass is holding his chest as well, and all the color has drained from his normally rosy cheeks.
My knees shake as I force myself to stand and move closer to Athena. “Come on, Omega,” I say softly, touching her arm and trying to guide her to her feet. “They’re okay. They’re okay. We’d all know if they weren’t, right? We’d know. But they need us, okay? Our Omega needs us.”
Athena’s eyes are blank, and I know she’s dissociating.
I can’t let her.
Her pack needs her, and she needs her pack. She can’t be lost in her mind right now.
“Sebastian,” I bark. The Alpha has tears running down his cheeks, and he looks like he’s struggling to say something.
“They’re okay,” I repeat, this time to my pack mate. “They have to be. We need to go to them, but we need to bring Athena back to us first. Get up and come here.”
He nods slowly and rises to his feet, shuffling around the table to stand next to me. I gently lift her from the ground and place her in his arms, her back to his chest.
“Purr,” I command, my voice laced with a bark.
He stumbles over it, but eventually, a soft purr emanates from his chest. I plaster myself against her front, joining Sebastian in a rumbling chorus.
But she’s not snapping out of it, and we need to check on our pack.
My parents have always told me to trust my instincts. Being a good Alpha is a lot of things, but most of all, it is listening to that voice inside me that knows how to care for my Omega and letting it drive my actions.
I dip my head and bite into her shoulder, through the shirt, right over my bonding mark. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my pack mate watching me before he picks up her arm and bites into her wrist.
Athena gasps, chest heaving, and bursts into tears.
She’s crying, her body shaking and shuddering so much that I fear she will fall to the ground if we loosen our hold on her even a little bit, but she’s present.
She’s come back to us.
“We need to go,” I say, releasing my jaw and grabbing her hand. I don’t wait for her or Sebastian to respond before dragging her along behind me.
The bond I share with Atlas pulls me out of the building the Hawks use for their meetings, through the compound, and into the parking lot.
When my eyes land on Wyatt and Harvey, wrapped around a tall figure, the vice grip that my heart was trapped in releases. I pick up my pace, nearly shoving Wyatt out of the way in my eagerness to see for myself that Atlas is okay.
I grab my Omega by the shoulder and spin him to face me, ignoring the snarls from Harvey at the movement. My hand finds the back of his neck, and I pull him down, our foreheads touching.
“You’re okay.” Emotion clogs my voice, and I squeeze him against my chest. Though I want to hold my Omega to me, purr to calm his pounding heart, I know I cannot keep him to myself, so I step aside.
Athena falls to her knees as soon as she lays eyes on him, face in her hands. He follows her to the ground, and the two of them wrap themselves in each other’s arms, bodies shaking and tears leaving dark patches on the dirt beneath them.
A moth to a flame, I follow them, and I am not the only one. Our entire pack circles them, touching them in any way we can.
With my hands on both of them, I can take in the chaos of the surrounding scene. Nitro is kneeling next to Boots, who has a tourniquet on his leg, blood surrounding him. Valkyrie is on the phone with someone, barking directions.
And a dead body that must have been Tyler is resting in a pile of bloody mud.
“Icarus Knight is on his way,” Valkyrie says, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Slime is escorting him in.”
Atlas shifts beside me, his hands going to either of Athena’s cheeks.
“He’s dead, Goddess,” my Omega says so softly that I nearly miss it. “Tyler’s dead.”
This is what we wanted, right? We never discussed it, but was there a world where the two of them could heal and he survived?
I don’t think any of us expected to be so aware of his demise, though. I had hoped to leave him in the capable hands of the Hawks and never think of him again.
But there is no way I will forget the first time I saw a dead body. The others, since they’re involved in the less-than-legal side of our business, surely have been around one before, but I’ve always been the one who runs our legal operations.
I have to keep my hands clean to keep eyes off of us.
“Lupine,” Nitro says roughly, his massive figure casting a shadow over us. “Are any of you lot hurt?”
Harvey clears his throat a few times before he speaks. “No, Prez, we’re okay.”
“Quick draw, Harvey,” the old Beta says. “Apparently, he dislocated his thumb so he could get himself out of the cuffs. Boots taking a bullet in the leg was the best-case scenario, from what Val has told me.”
Harvey grunts, but doesn’t respond to what the Beta tells him. His eyes drift back to Atlas, who’s kissing Athena softly all over her face. “He pulled a gun on my Omega.”
“He did, which allows us to report this to the actual cops. His contacts need to know that he’s dead, not think that he disappeared. You were within your rights in eliminating him because your Omega was at risk.”
“They’re not registered as my Omegas yet.”
Sebass clears his throat. “Actually, Clicks and I took care of the paperwork. They’ll find a pack registration when they look.”
A bike comes ripping into the complex, carrying two figures. When it stops, a wobbly-kneed Icarus Knight nearly falls off the back of it and wrenches his helmet off.
“I hate that, I hate it so much,” he chants softly. “Fucking death trap. Twenty-eight times more likely to die in a crash than in a car. Red tags, every single time.”
The other figure on the bike slides off and removes his helmet, his face wearing a doting smile. His green hair sticks to his forehead before he shakes it out.
“You’re fine. You were never in any danger.”
“I barely trust you to make my tea,” the doctor teases.
“Yeah, well, we got here faster than if you had driven.”
The doctor reaches into a side bag on the bike and pulls out a soft-sided black case. His eyes immediately land on Boots. “Ah, yes, that doesn’t look great, now does it?”
“Ain’t he a research doctor?” the biker says through gritted teeth.
“As if I would forget my emergency medicine training.” Icarus squats next to the big Alpha. “Do you want pain meds before I examine?”
Boots looks at him as if he has two heads.
Rolling his eyes, Icarus gently lifts the man’s leg and looks at the rear side of his thigh. “Ah, okay, through and through. Good. I don’t have to dig the bullet out.”
I turn my back. I never considered myself a squeamish person, but I would prefer not to watch whatever he needs to do to get Boots patched up.
“Is she okay?” Icarus asks from behind me. “Athena, are you alright?”
“She dissociated for a moment, but we got her back,” I tell him, not daring to look at him. I slip around to stand next to Wyatt and pitch my voice low. “What happened?”
“The weasel got a hand out of his cuffs. He had a gun strapped to his ankle. It looked like his plan was to shoot Atlas, but Harvey got to him first.” He shakes his head. “Looks like he knew he had nothing left to lose once he saw where we were taking him.”
“Come on, now,” Harvey says, rising to his feet and pulling our Omegas with him. “Let’s get inside.”
They move as if on autopilot, hands never leaving one another. Icarus says something to his sister as she passes, and she nods, but I’m too busy trying not to see what he’s doing to pick up on what it is.
Our pack lead guides us through the compound and into the barracks, opening a plain wooden door and shuffling us into what looks like a larger version of a dorm room.
He locks the door behind us before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Atlas into his lap, who tugs Athena down with him.
I clamor onto the bed next to them, and I feel it dip as Wyatt and Sebastian do the same. We wrap ourselves together as a pack and soak in the relief that we’re all safe and together.