Why weren’t they strong enough to fight back?
Nails dug into my wrist, stopping me from causing the harm I wanted. Every second my agitation grew, the pain coming back in waves that washed over me. There wasn’t time. I needed to… I needed… death.
Theirs and mine.
It had been a long time coming.
SEVEN
LEIGHTON
“Ambrose!”
I shouted his name again, trying desperately to push back at his aura. It was flaring, the entire condo drenched in hot iron and smoke.
I hadn’t expected to walk into my home to find Ambrose bleeding from his back, his hand around Kiara’s neck. There was an unfamiliar knife abandoned on the floor. I’d fucking known she was dangerous, but I couldn’t comprehendthis.
She was paying for her deceit now.
Ambrose was lost in memories, his eyes unseeing while he clutched her throat.
Kiara was going blue, gasping for breath as she struggled against his hold. Her feet dangled from the ground, and with her short legs her kicks weren’t landing on him.
“Kiara, your aura,” I urged. “Fucking calm him. You can do that. Calm him down.”
She only struggled some more, her consciousness almost gone. Rational thought wasn’t there anymore. An omega aura may be able to calm a raging alpha but she wasn’t going to be useful.
I tried to use mine instead, making myself as big as possible and delivering a command I hoped would break through. “Ambrose, let her go.”
His fingers loosened enough she could suck in a breath. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. I released Ambrose’s hand where I’d been trying to pry it away from her. My torso pressed to his side instead and I purred, hoping it would do some good even though I wasn’t an omega.
“Good. Drop your hand and listen to me, OK?”
It took a second, but he was coming back. The unseeing sheen on his eyes was dropping, the dark orbs looking lighter by the second. He didn’t lower her gently, releasing her so abruptly she dropped to the floor. Kiara cried out and the sound had me clamping down on sudden anger.
She was hurt. He’d hurt her.
Buthewas the one with a seeping knife wound in his lower back.
Shit.
I stepped between them, hustling Ambrose back until he could lean against the counter. His expression twisted with pain as he brought a hand to the wound. His fingers came back sticky with blood. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Leighton, I need…”
My tea towel was draped across the counter, and I grabbed it. Reaching around, I pressed it to his back and plastered myself to his front. His arms came around me, holding me limply.
“It’ll stop bleeding soon,” I said, more confident than I felt.
The knife was small. It can’t have hit an organ. Not possible. Kiara wouldn’t have done that.
His gaze flicked to the knife on the floor and then landed on Kiara. His jaw went slack, body slumping. “Fuck,” he said again.
She was coughing, holding her bruised throat as tears streamed from her eyes. She was avoiding eye contact, looking at the floor as she recovered her breath. Ambrose grabbed the tea towel from me, pressing it to the wound. “Check on her.”
“Your wound is more serious.”
He shook his head sharply. “I’ll heal. I could have crushed her windpipe, and omegas are fragile.”
Ambrose had a point, but I hesitated.
