Page 3 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

That was too close.

A groan catches my attention, drags it to the person who almost killed my alpha. I should kill her with my bare hands. My fingers curl as I move with Roseland.

He approaches and stops with a jerk, crouching near the crumpled form. He inhales, and his body trembles. His breath hitches, and he lets out this groan that is like soul pain. I reach for him.

“No, oh, no. What are you doing out here?”

I glance at him sharply and withdraw my hand. This is more than strangers. His scent comes thick, heavy, needy. He smells and sounds devastated.

He reaches out, but she suddenly comes to life, scrambling away from him. I let out a bitter laugh because life just wants to boot me again and again. The omega, because she is clearly an omega, looks straight up at me.

I’m struck by curiosity; I don’t feel a connection with her, I don’t feel sorry for her. There’s nothing but one question. Why me? Why is she looking at me to save her?

What the fuck is this?

She tries to get up, but she just groans and falls sideways. I manage to catch her and lift her easily into my arms. She doesn’t weigh anything. Too thin. Like the kids on the street where I used to live. All bones and skin. Starving to death, fighting to live.

That alone is why I don’t throw her away from me.

I stare down at her. She’s nothing much. Tangled hair that looks like it could be brown or even black, but with orange tips. She’s too small. Delicate. Broken. There are bruises peeking out from under her clothes.

Roseland makes a strangled sound and reaches out but stops when I glare at him.

“Find us shelter, Roseland,” I say in my coldest voice. This game has lost its charm. I’m not amused. At all.

Yeah, okay. It’s time to give this asshole up. Tomorrow, I’ll quit him cold turkey.

Roseland pulls out his phone and makes a call. I hold her close to me and refuse to speak. He doesn’t even try to talk to me, I think I can smell shame, but it curls around us and is snatched by the wind.

Birds scream and a million trees surround us. We could disappear out here and never be found. The Sandersons, who raised me, would love it out here. Plenty of room to play. I wonder how close we are to their playground. Close, I think, but I need a better marker to know for certain. There are so many trees in every direction.

Ten minutes later, an expensive car pulls up, and an alpha gets out. I don’t notice anything else about him but the aura of complete menace and the thick, oozing sex appeal that I’m not sure he even notices.

“Sage?” Roseland growls out with barely contained hostility that positively prickles off him. “I need your help.”

“I am agog that you have yet another person you can’t get along with, Roseland,” I mutter.

I cradle the omega to my chest and step closer, only to stop when I get hit with this alpha’s scent. Sage and nutmeg presses against Rose’s sandalwood and rose scent, and the two blend into a combination of pure perfect that brings me to only one damn conclusion.

Another scent match.Boy, oh, boy, is it my lucky day or what?

I slide past him and put the omega on the backseat before turning, framing myself in front of the open door so they can’t get to her.

Why am I so protective of this tiny thing?

His eyes lock on mine, and for the first time in my life, I feel hunted. And damned if it doesn’t have my cock twitching and the odious urge to lift my damnchin and whine in pure invitation. He catches my scent, and his eyes glaze over, and I think I have him, but then he shakes it off.

He shakes off my scent as easily as Roseland does. Who the hell is this alpha?

“Who are you?” It should be rude, aggressive; if anyone else had said it, it might be. But from this alpha, it’s just pure curiosity and demand.

I inhale slowly, deliberately letting my chest fill as I drop my eyes down his body. He’s big, and strong, perhaps the most dangerous alpha I have ever met. It oozes from his strange silver-white dyed hair, to his intense green eyes, every inch of him screams alpha, power and interest. He’s wearing a leather jacket that looks like it could be armor, and I can see a hint of a tattoo poking out from under his collar. He wears danger like it’s a second skin.

In comparison, Roseland doesn’t look dangerous, he’s in a black shirt and jeans and somehow his dangerous aura is hidden.

But I’ve seen what lurks beneath his charm.

“Pix,” I say arrogantly, tossing a sunny smile that I know will get under his skin.