Page 110 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

The henchmen scattered. Emre held his breath, counting the heartbeats left.

Six sets of heartbeats.

Was Ronald...?

“I’m not dead yet,” Ronald croaked from the ground. He coughed weakly and spat, staring up at Zenith with glittering, malicious eyes.

Zenith had broken part of his skull. How was he still alive?

Then it didn’t matter anymore, because Ronald lunged up and shifted into a wolf, jaws open to rip out Zenith’s human throat.

Emre’s heart stopped. “Zenith!”

Zenith twisted sideways, dodging Ronald and punching him in the head. Ronald swayed. Zenith breathed a stream of thehottest blue flames, grabbing Ronald and holding him down so the flames consumed him. Ronald screamed and shifted back into a human.

Huxton shifted into a large pterodactyl, casually leaning his wing against the mouth of the alley to hide most of the flames.

“Look away, Emre,” the butler said.

Emre couldn’t look away.

It was horrifying, watching Ronald burn. Seeing his skin sear off, his flesh blacken.

But Ronald had also dug his claws into Emre, pinning him down just so he could hurt Emre over and over. He had kidnapped the pupsto sell them.

And maybe at the back of his mind, Emre had always worried about Ronald finding him, hunting him down to hurt him and his pups again.

He tore his gaze away, but he heard the crackle of flesh, the sizzle of blood. He heard Ronald’s heart stop, and he smelled Ronald’s flesh burn.

It should make him retch, but all Emre could feel was a weird sense of peace.

He sat down shakily on the rooftop, staring at nothing. Just holding his pups.

Then he remembered the blood-red knife, and Zenith hurting. Emre’s heart flew to his throat.

He pulled out his phone to see if anyone was sending a doctor. “Zenith?” Emre asked. “Do you need an ambulance? He stabbed you with a knife.”

Huxton swore.

The flames stopped. Zenith blew out a heavy breath. Emre peered over the edge of the roof, only to see Zenith stumble backward.

26

HELP

“I’m fine,”Zenith said tightly, his hand pressed against his side.

Emre’s heart clenched.

“No, you’re not fine,” he blurted. He wanted to get to the ground and help Zenith, but he had two pups in his arms and no first aid experience. “Hux, please help him!”

“On it,” Huxton said.

Emre could only watch as Huxton shifted back into a man, ripping Zenith’s shirt into pieces so he could shove fabric against the bleeding wound.

“Fuck,” Zenith hissed, his face turning pale.

How badly was he hurt? Had the knife hit a vital organ, and none of them knew it?