Pack Darling, Part One by Lola Rock

Thirty-Four

LILAH

“Holy shit, you smell good.”Craig drops the syringe, raggedly inhaling my neck, pressing against me with his wet cardboard heat.

I want to vomit.

I want to scream, but Craig’s crusty fingers clamp my mouth shut.

I can barely breathe. The air’s oven hot, scorching my throat.

“C’mere.” He drags me to the still-running car, opening the backseat and tossing me inside.

Fight!

I scream in my head, but all that comes out is a strangled mewl. My core clenches and unclenches, my slick flowing.

I need an alpha.

I need one of my alphas to make the hurt go away.

It’s all I can do to breathe and not burn.

I bat at Craig’s grip, hating myself when my hit lands soft as kitten paws. He snags my wrists and binds them in zip ties.

I wriggle, trying to worm away and reach the door handle on the far side of the car, but Craig grabs my calves, holding my legs in place and forcing them open as he slides onto the seat above me.

His pupils are blown. Hair frantic, his scent erratic.

“Omega,” his scratchy, needy voice rakes my skin like claws. “Fuck.”

He shifts his weight, belt buckle making a clink that stops my heart.

For a second, the haze clears.

No fucking way is this happening.

Fuck the heat and the hormones.

Fuck him.

I’m a fighter, and I’m not lying here letting this degenerate rape me.

The idiot shouldn’t have tied my hands in front.

While he pulls at his zipper, I snag the knife tucked into my bra and drive it into his ribs.

He screams.

I kick.

Craig topples out of the car, banging his head on the way down.

My instincts scream to run, to hide, to flee.

Heat twisting in my belly, I scramble away while Craig groans on the cement.

Need to find somewhere safe.

I run through the garage door, moving awkwardly with my hands bound, fleeing into the woods while Craig rages.

I should’ve gone back in the house.

But no.

I don’t want Craig anywhere near Orion.

I have to run.

Find a tree trunk or a cave or dive into the lake. But I can’t swim zip-tied.

All the while, my heat rides me.

I feel like I’m sprinting through the desert, dry and thirsty as fuck, even though wetness flows between my legs.

I crave. I need.

Pack leader.

Atlas.

Bite.

Knot.

Pack.

I stumble, sucking in shallow breaths, sweating, and tripping on twisted roots.

Escape, fight, escape, fight.

I chant and chant, trying to stay focused, trying to ignore the cramps tightening my belly as my cunt clenches around nothing. Razor sharp with need, my scent screams where I am, my body calling out for my alphas, needing to be filled and fucked.

Craig crashes through the bushes, grunting, so easily following my scent trail.

I trip over a root and slap the ground hard. But I don’t dare move. He’s too close.

So close, it’s like he’s already standing over me when his phone rings.

Craig curses. “I’m on the way. There’s been a—No. No! Don’t come. You promised you wouldn’t—! Hello? Shit. Fuck.” Something crashes and shatters. Then he screams into the night. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

My blood can’t pump faster, but it switches directions, thundering into my head.

I don’t know who’s coming, but I know I don’t want to be here when they show.

I sprint as fast as I can, which isn’t very fucking fast, skirting the treeline until I’m at the far side of the mansion, just behind the back corner of the house. Through the trees, I watch three sleek black cars zoom down the driveway.

Too late to run.

They’re already here.

They park in a screech of brakes, and alphas in dark suits spill out, all big, broad, and packing.

Craig stumbles to them, clutching the stab wound that stains his shirt a super-satisfying red. “You can’t be here,” he hisses. “I was bringing her—”

“We’re not here for her,” the obvious leader says. He’s the biggest alpha, huge, bulky and bald, with bloodred gang ink peeking past his cuffs and collar.

Wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.

Or at all.

“I don’t need the money,” Craig whines. “You can have her. Just don’t touch Orion.”

I want to throw up.

He sold me.

Craig fucking sold me.

What did I expect? It’s not my first time being sold. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.

The alpha lifts his gun to Craig’s forehead.

The beta stills, his mouth dropping open in utter shock that a motherfucking drug cartel didn’t keep their word.

A bang cuts the night, hiding the sound of my intake of breath.

Craig’s body hits the ground with a soft thup.

“We take them both,” the alpha says tightly. His nostrils flare, and I swear he turns to stare straight at me. “Track the female by scent. I’ll handle the male.” He strides for the front door.

My heart squeezes like a lemon, dripping acid down my throat.

There should be a decision to make here, a moment of hesitation, but as soon as his feet start to move, I’m already sprinting through the trees.

Even through my heat haze, or maybe because of the heat haze, I know what I want to do.

I won’t let them take Orion. Hurt Orion. Shit, even look at Orion.

He’s mine, even if he doesn’t want me.

In a burst of speed, I cut across the garden and bust it for the basement steps before these assholes can surround the house.

I’m weak and barely functioning, barely able to blink through the mist that coats my vision and makes my body burn, but I’m going to do something, even if Orion wants to kill me at the first hit of my scent.

I’ll save him no matter what.

Then, my conscience will be clear.

Then, I can finally disappear.