So she has decided to give him the truth.
Whitefang sighs, moving his hand down to his pocket. He has his back to me, so I don’t see what he’s doing, but when I hear the click of a gun, I freeze.
He places the gun by Martina’s head, and she screams. Steve ducks behind his desk, but I find my voice, hollering at the top of my lungs. “No!”
The alpha stops, turning slowly to face me. My heart seizes when I spy the glint in his frosted blue eyes, and he’s a psychopath.
I don’t want him anywhere near me.
“Well, look who’s finally awake...”
I glare at him as he still holds the gun to Martina’s head, and her eyes find me. She’s pleading with me, begging for my forgiveness, and why do I have to be such a big softie deep down?
I hate her guts, but I don’t want to see her die.
Somehow, I can relate to her. She tried to hide who she was this whole time, too. As if her designation is something to be ashamed of.
Female alphas don’t have it easy. In order to give birth to an alpha, she has to find herself a male omega.
Yet they’re rare.
It sucks.
“Well, well, it looks like my omega has just saved your life.”
Martina’s whole body shakes as she never takes her eyes off me. They’re filled with tears.
It’s hard to hate her when she looks like that.
Whitefang puts his gun away. Then he swings his fist around and punches Martina in the face, and she goes out like a light.
I suppose it’s better than death.
Whitefang steps toward me. I shuffle back on the couch. “Get away from me.”
The alpha stops, arching one of his fair eyebrows. Then he drops to his knees, giving me a full view of his chiseled face.
He takes my breath away. I couldn’t see his face properly in the club earlier, but wow. It’s as if he was molded by angels. My eyes trace the sculpted line of his jaw. He’s an Adonis.
The ancient Greeks would have considered him next to the gods.
And those eyes... so blue. They remind me of icebergs that float along the Arctic Ocean, and a chill shoots up my spine.
He may look like an angel, but I know what he is deep down.
He’s a devil in disguise.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Buttercup. It appears you have cast a spell on me, so I have decided to take you home. Besides, Stevie boy owes me, and, well, I guess you’re his bargaining chip.”
Bargaining chip?
I scowl at Steve. He still hides behind his desk, and he actually has the gall to look guilty.
I hate him.
“Well, time to get you out of here.”
Whitefang tucks his hands beneath me, and I squirm in his hold. No. I am not someone’s property. I am a free omega!