12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Blaise
The mission worked exactly the way Shade said it would, which is annoying because he’ll be quietly smug about it later. Then there’s Halley, my sweet, terrifying Omega, who handled her part beautifully.
One minute, I was driving my fist into a Human’s face until his cheek caved under my knuckles, and the next, my beautiful mate was using the strongest Omega Command she had ever managed. She put everything into it, every lesson we drilled into her during training.
She held on to Shade and Knox tightly, using them as a stabilizing force, and spoke the words with clarity and conviction.
"Call a retreat and do not return."
Simple, clear, and bossy in a way I’d love to appreciate later with her on her back in her nest.
There was no nosebleed this time. She didn’t crumble into O-Space or sway on her feet. She took the power, used it, and stayed standing afterward, which made my Alpha rumble with pride.
Now the Unit Leader scrambles into the undergrowth, shouting retreat orders into his radio.
My finger twitches on the trigger.
Fleeing prey always makes me want to chase. I wrinkle my nose and lower my rifle before I accidentally ruin our lovely little victory by putting a bullet in the man Halley just Commanded.
The clearing is scattered with the mutilated bodies of the Human leadership. It stinks like piss, fear, and gore. When our truck skidded in, Pack Scorch burst from it ready to fight. I’ve never seen my brothers so vicious, and honestly, it makes me feel closer to them.
Like me, they have a lot of ugly feelings to burn through. After all, we're war-mongrels. We don't process our feelings by talking. We deal with them by killing.
Even after the fight, adrenaline is still raging through my veins. My pulse pounds, and my fingers twitch on the grip. I’m not done burning off the vortex of tangled emotions inside me. I want to kill and draw blood for hours. Maybe then the persistent ache in my chest will ease.
Halley is alive, Viper is back, and the Pack is whole.
The grief doesn’t care.
It lingers, nasty and stubborn, under my ribs, only easing when I put a bullet in an enemy, break bones, or open Human skin.
I kick the nearest corpse twice.
The satisfaction doesn’t come.
"Useless," I mutter. "The least you could do is scream in terror a little."
"Cut it out, Blaze," Knox says, though his eyes are still glowing red with his own repressed killing intent.
If it were just us, the old Scorch Squad, I'd politely suggest that we head back into the fray and crush a few more skulls. We could really work out our frustrations on the retreating and unsuspecting Humans.
But we ain't Scorch Squad anymore.
We're Pack Scorch, and we have precious cargo to protect. Halley means more than the quick thrill of murder.
I can see her purple eyes peering out at us from her safe place inside the truck. The moment her Omega Command struck, Shade bundled her inside and slammed the door. None of us are taking chances with her safety, not after she's proven she's a bit of a magnet for bullets… and knives.
What's the count up to now? She's taken bullets in her leg and neck, not to mention a knife to the back.
Nope. Never again.
Okay, so maybe no enemy knives. But she might let me use mine if I promise it'll only enhance her pleasure.
Halley blinks slowly as she takes in the carnage.
Bodies litter the clearing, and blood darkens the dirt. The Unit Leader is gone, still breathing only because my Omega needed him for her Command instead of letting me decorate a tree with him.
Her expression stays neutral, and through the bond, she feels calm.
That's the part snagging my attention. Throughout this whole surprise-ambush-attack-turned-murder-mission, I haven't felt Halley's fear once.
Frustration, yes. Determination, absolutely. A few nerves, because she still has a working sense of self-preservation, and thank fuck for small miracles.
But fear never comes.
I stalk closer to the truck and stop in front of her window. Dust coats the glass, so I drag my finger through it in two small circles, giving her clean little goggles to look through.
Her eyes meet mine through the clean circles, and I'm entranced by the life in them.
My stomach flips, and I hate that I can't unsee how empty her eyes looked when she died. I've seen so many dead bodies in my life, I'll never know the true number, but her blank stare will be the one that haunts me to my end.
The pounding of boots grows louder as the army retreats, and it’s time for us to go.
We pile into the truck, and Knox peels us out of the clearing. I get some secondhand satisfaction as we manage to catch a group of Humans by surprise and Knox steers directly into them. The crunch is spectacular.
Halley doesn't flinch.
I have the best seat in the truck, right next to Halley, and I take the presented opportunity to bury my nose firmly against her throat.
I get fresh Omega scent directly from the source.
She's not wearing her bite collar anymore, and I have never been accused of resisting temptation when it presents itself to me.
She's not complaining. Well, not anymore. Earlier, she did smack me on the nose when I took my chance and sucked at her scent gland. In my defense, it was right there, warm and bare and begging for attention. I wanted it swollen and shining with my spit, because I’m a simple Alpha with refined tastes.
To my credit, I accepted correction with dignity, restraint, and only a small amount of wounded sulking. Once I proved I could keep my mouth to myself, she softened and slid her fingers into my hair.
Now she scratches gently at my scalp while I breathe her in, and each stroke pulls another bit of tension out of me.
Her purr fills the truck as we climb the twisting road toward Blackgate Fortress. The sound settles over the Pack bonds, steady and warm, until the whole cab feels almost peaceful.
Halley feels different through the bond. Calmer and more certain. She isn’t fighting herself with every breath anymore, and because she’s settled, the rest of us can settle around her.
I feel almost drugged by the combination of her touch, purr, and Omega pheromones.
Blaise needs that.
My sweeter half is still stuck on the sight of her dying. He keeps reaching for her through the bond, checking and checking again, terrified she’ll vanish if he stops paying attention.
Blaze reacts differently.
The darker part of me has gone quiet, and it's making my skin prickle. He isn’t soothed by Halley coming back from death. He’s fascinated by it.
My Omega broke the only rule I’ve ever trusted.
People die, bodies fail, blood spills, and hearts stop. That’s always been clean and simple.
Then Halley died.
And she came back.
Now Blaze wants to know what changed. He wants to study every breath, blink, and new note in her scent. He wants to peel the miracle open and find the answer buried underneath.
I press my nose closer to her throat and tighten my arm around her waist.
Dying changed her, that's for sure, and she came back with new edges I haven’t learned yet. But, as long as Halley is still in there, still my Sparkles, I don’t care what new personality traits she's got.
This new, confident Halley is still Halley.
The tightness in my chest eases, replaced by that giddy little rush only my Omega ever gives me.
Bet she still squirts like a fountain and squeaks when her nipples are flicked.
Halley's fingers slow and stop, withdrawing from my hair, and I pull away, blinking against the sunlight.
"Aw, no. Don't stop, Sparkles," I protest, but she just smiles sweetly at me and nods toward the front.
The imposing gates of Blackgate rise before us, and I know my little escape into Halley-land is over. For now. I'll find another way to burrow into her soon. If she thought I was stalking her before, she ain't seen nothing yet.
Her death has done nothing but make me utterly obsessed.