Chapter Six
T he ground still grumbled beneath my bare feet as I stumbled through the rubble, maintaining my balance with difficulty. Dust choked the air and coated my tongue. My body ached, the pain sharpening with every step. I wrapped an arm around my ribs to brace against it. Around me, the world had turned to chaos and ruin.
Cries of terror and agony rose from every direction, piercing the relentless rumbling that still echoed from deep within the earth. Buildings that had stood straight before, now tilted at unnatural angles, while chunks of brick and concrete were strewn across the buckled streets. Glass shards glittered like jagged diamonds in the ash-smeared sunlight, and I stepped carefully to avoid them cutting my feet.
I coughed, my lungs rebelling against the thick, dusty air, and scanned the Hellscape for any sign of safety. Survivors staggered by, faces blank with shock beneath streaks of blood and grime. A woman clutched a wailing baby to her chest, eyes wide and unseeing. An elderly man sat on a shattered curb, staring at the broken remains of his cane.
Pain lanced up my leg as I pivoted to avoid a toppled street lamp. I gasped, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. Gritting my teeth, I forged ahead, refusing to let my weakened body stop me. I was an omega, alone in a world fractured by disaster... showing vulnerability was not an option.
"Summer!" A deep voice sliced through the destruction, commanding and urgent.
I spun towards it, ignoring the scream of protest from my battered muscles. Blake had stopped ahead, his gaze sharp as it flicked to me, taking in my struggles. His powerful form cut an imposing figure against the backdrop of ruin. Even with his chiseled features streaked with soot, and his dark hair disheveled, he radiated unwavering authority and strength.
His piercing blue eyes swept over me, taking in the way I favored my left side. His brow furrowed, and lips pursed. "We need to get to the epicenter," he said as he reached my side. "Emergency services will be focused there."
No matter the fact that I’d sworn to stay away from alphas, a treacherous part of me responded to the underlying protectiveness in his words. I'd carved out my independence with blood and sweat; I didn't need an alpha charging in to save me.
"I’ll get there myself," I bit out as he looped his arm around me, my voice rough with pain.
Blake's eyes narrowed. "Don't be stubborn Summer. You're hurt and you have no shoes."
"I'm fine," I lied, straightening my spine and nearly biting through my lip as agony ripped through my side.
His jaw tightened, a muscle flexing as he wrestled with the urge to throw me over his shoulder and carry me off. I glared at him, daring him to try it. After a tense moment, he exhaled harshly.
"This isn't about your pride," he growled. "The city's in crisis. Let me help you so we can help others."
I wavered. He was right, damn him. Every second we spent arguing was a second someone else went without aid.
Swallowing my protestations, I gave a tight nod. "Fine. Let's go."
Relief and approval warmed his gaze before he stepped forward, reaching for me. I flinched instinctively, and regret flickered over his face.
"I'm going to pick you up again," he warned, his deep voice gentling slightly. "It'll be faster and easier on your leg."
Rationally, I knew he was right. But the fierce, independent part of me still balked at the idea of being cradled in an alpha's arms, even if that hunk of an alpha was Blake Valensky.
Mouth dry, I gave another jerky nod. Permission granted, he closed the remaining distance between us. Strong arms slid beneath my knees and behind my shoulders, gathering me to his chest with infinite care as he lifted me like I was made of spun glass.
I gritted my teeth against a gasp when my body molded against the solidity of his. Heat radiated from him, seeping through my torn and dusty clothing. This close, his rain scent filled my lungs, wild and enticing despite the destruction surrounding us.
Unbidden, I gripped hold of his shirt, anchoring myself to him as he began picking a path through the earthquake-ravaged streets. Each rolling step jostled my leg, but I felt oddly insulated from the worst of the pain, cocooned in his unshakable strength.
I looked up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline, and had to force myself not to reach out and touch it. Instead, I focused on the fact that I was once again under the control of an alpha. “I could have walked, you know...”
He didn’t seem to be bothered by my protests; his grip tightened just enough to ensure I wouldn’t slip from his arms. “I know you can. But I don’t want you splitting those stitches open, or cutting your feet to ribbons.” His voice was low and calm, like he wasn’t giving me a choice.
I huffed in annoyance, but nodded reluctantly, letting him carry me the rest of the way. The pain was still sharp, but being so close to him helped steady my fraying nerves, even if I hated how vulnerable it made me feel.
Since losing my parents, the solitude of my self-imposed isolation had become a refuge, making the thought of relying on another, especially an Alpha,unbearable. I'd sworn never again to be vulnerable, never to owe my safety or happiness to anyone else.
But as Blake carried me through a broken cityscape, my face tucked into the curve of his throat, and I warmed to his touch, needing his scent to wrap around me, carry me, protect me.
I closed my eyes against the hot sting of tears, hating my weakness even as I craved more of the strange sense of rightness stealing over me. For the first time since the world had shattered, I felt safe. Protected.
I could only pray that I hadn't just invited my destruction.
BLAKE SET ME DOWN AT the edge of a makeshift triage area in what had once been a bustling city square. Now, it more closely resembled a war zone with overturned vehicles, smashed storefronts, and far too many broken bodies strewn among the debris. Sirens wailed in the distance, but here, only the moans of the wounded and the barked orders of first responders broke the eerie quiet that was left in the quake's wake.
No sooner had my feet touched the ground than Blake was moving, his focus absolute as he scanned the chaotic scene. I leaned against the twisted frame of a sidewalk bench, trying to ignore the persistent throb of my injuries and stop myself from blacking out from the pain.
My mind couldn’t help but wander to the strange sensation that settled around me. At first, I thought it was just the chaos, the tension in the air, but then I realized it was Anders’ scent as he walked over.
“How are you doing?” he asked, perching on a broken piece of concrete beside me.
The tranquility of a cool, soothing current flowed through my bloodstream. It was the scent of calm, of peaceful rivers running through the heart of a forest.
I smiled as I looked into his deep brown eyes. “Better now I’m not moving.”
He smirked, looking down at my freshly bandaged leg. “Understandable.” I nodded, then he stood up. “Well, just shout if you need anything Summer.”
Watching him walk toward his pack brother Zach, I felt... anchored. Even though I was still in the middle of the devastation, my heart slowed to a more blissful rhythm. Something about their presence made the chaos feel less like a threat and more like something I could handle.
There were people everywhere, many of them injured, some of them trapped under debris.
"Anders! Zach!" Blake's deep voice cut through my thoughts with cool authority. The two other alphas materialized out of the swirling dust and smoke.
Anders reached him, his sandy blond hair streaked with soot, his face a mask of focused concern. "How bad?" he asked tersely, sweeping a clinical gaze over the devastation.
"Bad enough," Blake replied grimly. "We need to move fast. Anders, start triaging; green tags for minor injuries, yellow for delayed treatment, red for immediate attention. I'll take the critical ones."
Anders gave a quick nod, removing his ruined jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Zach skidded up a moment later, a coil of manic energy in stark contrast to the other two alphas' calm. His grey eyes glittered with urgency beneath a mop of tousled black hair.
"Zach, I need you on search and extraction," Blake ordered. "Check the collapsed structures. Grab anyone with field medic experience to help."
"On it." Zach flashed a wild, reckless grin before sprinting towards the nearest pile of rubble, already shouting for volunteers.
I watched in mute fascination as the three alphas sprang into action like a well-oiled machine, no trace of hesitation or uncertainty in their movements.
Blake moved from victim to victim with urgent efficiency. His strong hands were gentle as he checked pulses, applied pressure to bleeding wounds, and barked orders for supplies.
Zach darted in and out of the rubble like a ghost, returning each time with new patients slung over his shoulders or cradled in his arms. His crazy amused demeanor had vanished, replaced by an intensity that bordered on feral as he delivered the injured to Anders before diving back into the fray.
Anders continued assessing each new arrival and dispatching them to the appropriate area with color-coded tags. His face remained a mask of concentration even as the organized chaos swelled around him.
“Summer,” Blake shouted, waving me over.
I grunted as I stood up, hobbling over to him and sitting... well, almost falling next to him. He caught me and helped me lower onto the broken bench.
“I could do with a hand,” he looked down at my leg and grimaced. “If you’re up for it?”
I smiled, looking at the older man he was treating. The man looked late eighties, with a piece of debris sticking out of his abdomen. I sat beside him and held his hand. He looked up at me, biting back tears.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Albert,” he uttered, wincing and squeezing my hand as Blake packaged the debris to stop the bleeding.
I watched him, transfixed, not noticing my own pain. “It’s nice to meet you Albert, but I wish it were under better circumstances.”
He laughed, then winced again.
“Sorry,” I said, smiling.
I glanced over at Blake, who was bandaging around the metal sticking out of Albert’s stomach. The deep crimson blood against the gauze made my stomach turn, but I forced myself to focus.
As if drawn by my thoughts, Blake glanced up from the bandage he was tying. Something unreadable flickered across his face... concern, exasperation, an edge of command.
"I need an extra set of hands."
I hesitated, torn between my instinctive aversion to following alpha orders and the growing compulsion to be useful. Another low groan of pain from Albert, and I asked, “Where do you want me?”
"Hold this." Blake thrust a wad of gauze into my hand and guided it to a jagged gash. The beta, Albert, whimpered, his soot-streaked face straining towards me.
"Press down hard," Blake instructed tersely, already rummaging in his kit for clotting powder. "We need to slow the bleeding."
I swallowed a surge of nausea and did as commanded, using my full weight to stem the flow. Albert yelped, his body arching against the pain, but I held fast. Blake worked at my side, his hands deft and sure as he finished packing the wound.
"Good," he murmured when the bleeding finally slowed to a sullen ooze. His eyes flicked up to mine, a trace of warmth surfacing in their icy depths. "Keep pressure on it."
I nodded, readjusting my grip on the gauze. As Blake turned to call for a stretcher, I looked down at my hands, now stained rust-red with Albert's blood. I flexed my fingers, marveling at the unexpected steadiness of my grip.
For so long, I'd held myself apart, determined to rely on no one but myself. But here, amid unimaginable disaster, I'd found purpose in the simple act of staunching a wound, of holding a hand and following the lead of an alpha who commanded with resolute focus.
I glanced up, my gaze tracking first to Anders, checking the breathing of an unconscious elderly woman with infinite care. Then to Zach, emerging triumphantly from a collapsed storefront with a dust-covered child clinging to his shoulders. These men, these Alphas... they wielded their strength not to control, but to protect others.
Two volunteers walked over and rolled Albert gently onto the stretcher. He grabbed my hand before he was carried away. “You’ve got a good pack, Omega,” he said.
My face reddened. “I, well... they’re not...”
Blake placed his hand on my shoulder. “She does, doesn’t she,” he said, smiling. He patted my shoulder and walked off with Albert on the stretcher.
I frowned as I watched him. Did he just call me a member of his pack?
Looking back at my hands, steady, capable, and streaked with the blood of survival, a small flame of longing flickered in my chest, and I wondered for a moment, what would it be like to be part of their pack?