Tangled

30 Ava: Omega? (III)

I groan as searing pain lances through my ribs, fairly certain that at least a few are broken from the impact. Gasping for air, I blink through the haze of confusion, trying to make sense of the chaos surrounding me.

Derek is slumped over the steering wheel, a grotesque trickle of blood oozing from his hairline. In the backseat, Jeremy lies crumpled in a disturbing, bloody mess, unmoving and alarmingly still.

For one hysterical second, I muse that this is precisely why seatbelts exist. Should’ve worn a seatbelt, Jeremy.

I grit my teeth against a wave of pain as I claw my way into the passenger seat.,

My shaking hands fumble with the door handle, but the door remains stubbornly jammed. Peering through the cracked windshield, I realize this side of the car

has collided with a tree. A few inches of trunk are all

that’s blocking my door from opening.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I muster what little strength remains and kick the door with

everything I have. Before I can kick again, the door

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30 Ava: Omega? (i))))

flies off.

I don’t stop to question my luck. As I tumble out of the wrecked vehicle, gasping for fresh air, a strong hand suddenly grips my arm, yanking me upright. I whirl around, my heart pounding, only to find myself face–to–face with a stranger–a tall, imposing man with chestnut hair and piercing green eyes.

His gaze sweeps over me, assessing, before he speaks in a deep, authoritative tone. “Are you injured?”

I sway into him, my battered body screaming in protest as I fight to remain upright. A dizzying wave of nausea washes over me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the world to stop spinning.

That’s when the scent hits me–ocean fresh, with a woodsy scent lingering just beneath, along with something that can only belong to one of my kind. A shifter. My eyes fly open, locking onto the stranger’s intense gaze, and I instinctively flinch away from him.

A mistake.

buckle beneath me, and I brace myself for the unforgiving impact of the ground. But instead of hitting

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against a broad

I tense, every fiber of my being screaming at me to fight, to flee, but I’m utterly

grim line as he studies me intently. “Are you

with concern.

my

open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in

left me reeling, and I can’t seem

the chaos.

furrowing as he takes in my silence. “We need to get you

and I struggle feebly against his

futile. He merely tightens his hold, cradling me closer to his chest as if I weigh no

now,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in

Ava: Omega? (III)

to hurt you. Rowan, take care of the rogues,” he orders over his

struggle against the waves of pain crashing over me. “Who are you?” I rasp out, my voice

“I am Alpha Clayton Shadowpine of the Aspen

I should give my real name. I feel safe for the immediate moment, but I know

continues walking, heading deeper into

ebbing and leaving me chilled in

the alpha

shudder as another tremor wracks through me, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

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Ava: Omega?

solid frame as we approach a sleek black SUV. His presence is both

warmth, to soak in the reassurance of his strength, to lean on an alpha. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a pack, and I

back of my mind whispering that

another shifter.

of keys from his pocket. With a deft flick of his wrist, he unlocks the SUV, and the rear

his

backseat, my fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his shirt. A strangled noise escapes my throat–a silent plea for

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