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.

I brace myself for the unforgiving impact of the ground. But instead of hitting

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Omega? (III)

against a broad

that belies his impressive stature. I tense, every fiber of

are set in a grim line as he studies me

laced with

my

mouth to respond, but the words catch in

me reeling, and

the chaos.

in my silence. “We need to get you to safety,”

me, and I struggle feebly against his iron grip. I can’t go with

are futile. He merely tightens his hold, cradling me closer to his chest

now,” he murmurs, his voice low

on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early

Omega? (III)

you. Rowan, take care of the rogues,” he orders over his shoulder as he strides away from the scene

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

yet intense. “I am Alpha Clayton Shadowpine of the Aspen Pack. And you are?”

should give my real name. I feel safe for the immediate moment, but I know my future is now even more uncertain.

you’re safe now.” His tone leaves no room for argument as he continues walking,

adrenaline ebbing and leaving me chilled

the alpha

shudder as another tremor wracks through me, my teeth

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Ava: Omega? (III)

solid frame as we approach a sleek black SUV. His presence is both comforting and unsettling–a paradox that leaves me reeling.

deeper into his warmth, to soak in the reassurance of his strength, to lean on an alpha. It’s been so long

part remains wary, a voice in the back of my mind whispering that I

another shifter.

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

get you inside where it’s warm,” he murmurs, his deep voice a low rumble that vibrates against my cheek.

me in the backseat, my fingers instinctively curling into the

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