Tangled

31 Ava: Omega? (IV)

It’s a man–no, a shifter–with a mane of auburn hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. His sharp features are softened by warm amber eyes that crinkle at the corners as he offers Clayton a respectful nod.

“The rogues have been taken care of,” he says, his tone clipped and professional. “The authorities have been alerted, and our people are cleaning up the scene.”

Clayton returns the nod, his expression grim. “Good work, Rowan. This is Ava–she was the target.”

I study the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. His nostrils flare as he takes in my scent, and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Before I can react, he takes an impulsive step forward, his gaze locked on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.

Alarm bells blare in my mind, every instinct screaming at me to flee. But then Clayton moves swiftly, placing himself between Rowan and me in one fluid motion. He extends an arm, effectively halting Rowan’s

advance with a subtle shake of his head.

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31 Ava: Omega? (IV)

Rowan freezes, his eyes fluttering shut as he draws in a deep, steadying breath. When he opens them again, a flicker of shame crosses his features, and he dips his head in a silent apology.

“My apologies, Ava,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “It isn’t often we run into a true omega entering heat.”

My brow furrows in confusion as I glance between the two shifters. “A true omega?” I echo uncertainly. “I’ve seen many omegas enter heat. It doesn’t seem rare.”

Clayton shifts his stance, angling himself towards me as he studies me with a contemplative frown. “There are omegas by birth and omegas by rank,” he explains, his deep voice measured and even. “Omegas by birth are rare, and their heat can affect any male in their radius. They’re the only ones whose heat can influence the rationality of betas and higher ranks.”

I’m supposedly this “true omega” they speak of. A shiver runs down my spine as the implications sink in.

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Omega? (IV)

piercing gaze holds mine, his expression unreadable. “Is your mother an omega, Ava?”

at the question, my jaw clenching instinctively. Memories of my family surge to the surface, bitter and unwanted. I can’t bring myself to answer, to reveal any part of that life I’ve fought so hard to

uncomfortable silence stretches between us, thick

Clayton gives a slight nod, as if accepting my

for now.

comfortable with when you’re ready.” He turns to Rowan, his expression hardening ever so slightly. “Keep your distance for now. I’ll have one of the healers take a

look at her.”

nod, his amber eyes flickering towards me with a mixture of remorse and something else–something

in my ears as the weight of

Ava: Omega? (IV)

what they’re saying is true, if

the fuck is Selene when

the fuck are you?

wracks through me, and I clutch Clayton’s jacket tighter around my shoulders, seeking the meager

back home. I want to be in my apartment, far away from so many

draw in a shaky breath, smelling the ocean and pines once

as the movement aggravates the aches and bruises littering my body.

eye as he stands guard outside

Ava: Omega?

Yet there’s a quiet strength about him, a sense of steady reassurance that radiates from his

deny the feeling

I haven’t