Our Wild Omega (The Feral Actress #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Red

I forgot life isn’t a movie. Happy endings don’t wait around the corner simply because you endure the dark days. After all my desperate efforts, I lost my alpha, and now an icy tingle runs through me, leaving my hands numb and my heart reeling.

As my soul withers, another Red possesses me. Instead of the sweet Daisy or the valiant Red Hawk, this one is an emotionless phantom. A shell holding together a broken omega.

A Red Ghost.

Blue flashing lights pulse on the edges of my vision, the light halos lingering and melting into each other like a terrible overdose.

The crowd seethes as the reporters recover one by one, those close by choking and vomiting on the powerful alpha haze clogging our senses.

Agent Pierce staggers, covering his mouth before lurching through the crowd toward the remaining police.

If only this was a drug-induced spin-out that would soon go away. But my heart knows the truth.

They took my alpha.

My hands scrabble on the concrete step, colliding with pottery fragments; I didn’t imagine the brown globe exploding at my feet just before the scent struck us.

I collect the pieces, sharp edges digging into my palms to clarify my thoughts with pain as I scan the crowd.

Callisto, white as a sheet, shouts at the closest officer.

He looks like he’s seen the devil himself.

Maybe he has.

Beside me, Rickon’s face twists in agony, and his body moves with tiny jerks as he tries to free himself from the powerful musk locking us in place.

Trapped within my skin, I hammer at the invisible cage around me, but nothing moves. Only an agonized whine works through my throat.

Callisto jerks and spins, bolting back to my side in an instant. “Red? Oh, shit. I can’t believe it.” His hands close around my icy shoulders, big and hot. “Dammit! You’re bleeding.”

I glance down. Crimson rivulets trickle out of my palms, and red spots flare on my legs where the shattered pottery fragments dig into my skin.

Alongside the blood, traces of an oily residue stain my fingertips.

When I lift my trembling hands, I catch another heavy dose of potent alpha musk.

Why do I smell a foreign alpha? Or more than one, judging by the cocktail of scents.

This is all wrong.

I drop the shards and grab Callisto’s collar, my fists leaving bloody stains. He chokes as the clogging scent reaches his nose again.

“What happened?” I beg, swaying. “Where’s Zack?”

Callisto knows. So long as it isn’t about love, Calli always knows what to do next. His arms close around me, shutting out the nightmare and shielding me with his cherry wood aroma. But he can’t protect me from the truth raging through my soul.

I whine as my heart pounds. Emotions riot through me, strangling my throat and dumping adrenaline into my veins.

A bond mark is a two-edged sword—able to convey my alpha’s love, yes, but also funneling his rage straight into my chest. Zack burns with fury and I burn with him.

The sensations boil in my heart, threatening to tear me to pieces. I tip my head back and scream.

Callisto grabs Rickon and shakes him. “Ricky, snap out of it. We need you.”

Rickon blinks and falls forward, dry heaving.

“Fuck,” he gasps, shaking his head to ward off the paralysis.

He catches sight of me in Callisto’s arms and his eyes fly wide.

“Red!” He crawls forward on his hands and knees, knocking more clay shards aside.

I know he’s touching me, but a film lingers on my numb skin, distorting reality to block out the contact.

I slump over Rickon’s shoulder and reach one hand toward the crowd, out to the street where I last saw my alpha.

Everything echoes hollowly, as if we’re locked in a subspace, watching the world dimly.

I thought if I tried hard enough, my acting could get me through life.

But this disaster doesn’t have a script or a character for me to play.

When my shaky foundation collapses, all that’s left is an insignificant, unprepared me, kneeling naked against the cruelty of fate.

A fate I could’ve prevented.

“I should have listened to you,” I whisper against Rickon’s cold ear.

My alpha strokes my hair with trembling hands and gets wipes out of his bag to deal with the blood and vomit.

“Should’ve left him home,” I clarify. As if words could help.

“Oh, Red,” Rickon murmurs. My hand stings as he searches for splinters. “No, we couldn’t have known this would happen. You did what you thought best.”

That’s the problem. I always tried to do my best, but truthfully I made everything up on the spot. Who am I to take care of a man with such complex needs? I operated on a stupid gut reaction that drove Zack right into harm’s way.

My counselor’s voice echoes in my head, but this time, the tone twists with mockery. You’re doing great. More fucking lies I believed.

Hedged in the wonderful safety of my pack, I forgot for a moment what kind of person Ray is—the sort who’d never release me. Never go down alone.

My gaze falls to my phone. The screen turned off, but that digital doom still burns in my vision.

Did you think that was the end, Lev? If I go down, I’m taking you all with me.

A sob catches in my throat. He’s going to hurt Zack.

I can’t protect my alpha in prison, in the place where he almost died.

I can’t allow that.

With a wild shove on Rickon’s shoulder, I haul myself upright and stagger down the steps.

Callisto lunges, but I jerk away from his grasp to collide with the handrail.

Pain flares in my ribs, and I spin away, crashing into a reporter.

Don’t stop, Red. Never. A gap appears in the milling crowd, and I shoot through it.

I searched the country for Zack and rescued him from prison, so I have to find him again. Now.

I move faster and faster until I’m running down the sidewalk.

With every collision of my shoe on the asphalt, the memories flood in, working backward through my timeline.

Zack screaming my name for the first time.

Zack asserting his dominance. Zack tasting cake.

Zack in a cell . . . minutes away from his death.

Cars honk urgently, somehow in my path now.

Tires screech as I dodge around a looming metal monster.

I need to follow Zack, rescue him from that fate.

If he dies, I’ll die. I can’t let my alpha think we’ve abandoned him.

Pain burns through my legs as I run and run, matching the violent pain thrashing in the bond as my alpha panics.

Hands close around my waist, lifting me off my feet. “Let me go!” I shout hoarsely. “I have to save him!”

Agent Pierce’s voice wheezes beside my ear. “Not this way, ma’am. You’ll get hit by a car.”

I flail, trying to kick back into his knees as he drags me off the street, but nothing connects.

“No! My Zack. I need to get to Zack!” Any hope for the future withers as my vision blurs.

“He can’t go back into a cell,” I whimper.

“He can’t. They’ll kill him.” I choke, searching for a breath that won’t come.

Agent Pierce hands me over to someone, and Callisto’s woodsy scent folds around me.

I cling to the lawyer’s broad shoulders and dive my head into his neck, chasing more scent to drive away the foreign alpha musk sticking to me.

A headache blooms painfully in my temples, but this time it’s not from voices in my head. It’s from despair.

“We have to get her home,” Callisto says, gasping for breath.

“Please.” I sob into his shoulder, fists twisting his shirt. “Please don’t let him go to prison!”

Callisto swears and rubs my back. “I’ll go right to the police station, Red, and get him out on bail.

He’s legally under our protection, so they can’t do anything without notifying us.

I promise I’ll take care of this.” He grabs my cheeks, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“But I need to take you home first, okay? We can’t be worried about you as well as Zack.

You ran into fucking traffic, girl.” His fingers dig into my jaw, and his voice breaks.

“I thought I was going to lose you too.”

I want to argue, to tell him I won’t cause trouble, but I know full well the ghost is in control, not me. Slowly I nod, not wanting to be exposed out on the street any longer. I need Zack’s scent, and Rickon’s too. I need my alphas.

The bright light diffuses as we slide into a car, Callisto not releasing me. Rickon’s vanilla musk already fills the vehicle, and I reach for him, shivering. Rickon folds me into his arms, and the car lurches forward.

“They took him,” I whisper to my alpha, desperate for him to contradict me, to wake me from this nightmare.

He shakes his head, his platinum hair tickling my ear. “Red, I’m sorry. So sorry.” His arms tighten around me. The hum of Rickon’s distress echoes in our second-hand bond, and my alpha jerks with every breath, the loss physically painful for him.

Another whine slips through me, and I rock back and forth on his lap. After everything I did to get Zack free, he’s back in custody again. What if I can’t rescue him from euthanasia this time?

My broken pieces, carefully glued together, shatter again. I can’t breathe, can’t think. Uncontrollable shivers wrack my body. My heartbeat thumps loudly in my ear, an infernal doomsday clock warning me the end is near.

Darkness closes in, and I whimper as the black memories rush in with the shadows.

Ray leering at me in the windowless room, his foul body pressuring mine, his licorice scent filling my nose.

I choke. The scent that struck us isn’t Ray’s, but it clings to me, lingering with a potency like Zack’s unrestrained alpha musk.

I spasm and claw at my skin, trying to rid myself of the stench, but it’s everywhere.

Rickon catches my hands. “It’s just the elevator, Red. We’re almost home.”