Slamming my elbow into his side, I keep hitting until his hold loosens and I can get to my feet. Once standing, I reach down and lift the male up, only to slam him back down. Wood splinters beneath him and blood splatters everywhere. I grab him by the throat and drag him from the rubble and down the stairs, past the alpha still out cold on the lawn, to the treeline, where I drop him, not giving a shit if a panthra smells his blood and hauls the bastard into the woods for an easy meal.
I grab all the alphas and pile them on top of one another, crouching before them. One male is eyeing me warily, so I direct my next words at him.
"I'm leaving to hunt down my female. I expect all you sorry pieces of shits to be gone from my fucking property long before I return. Am I clear?"
He nods a frantically, but doesn't say a fucking word.
Good.
Ignoring my aches and pains, I move back to the den to collect Olo, because there's no way in hell I'm leaving him alone with seven alphas, even if all but one of them are unconscious.
He opens the door just as I'm climbing the stairs and says, "I'm going with you. You know my scent is muted, so it won't draw any alphas in. I want to help find her too, Wen."
"Get some pants on," I reply.
If I wasn't so lost in my rage, I'd be amused by Olo's red cheeks when he glances down to find himself still naked. He scrambles back into the den and returns moments later wearing a loose pair of pants and a simple tunic, face still flushed.
"Are you hurt?" I ask as I gently turn him this way and that, lifting his shirt, looking for any visible wounds.
"No, they just pushed me before they took her." Poor mate looks like he's about to cry, so I sweep him into my arms. He buries his head in my neck and whispers, "I couldn't stop them."
I rub a soothing hand up and down his back, and despite the time crunch we're in to find Lyra, I can't stop myself from offering my mate the comfort he desperately needs. "You did all you could, Olo. I failed her and you, but I will make it right."
He squeezes me tight before lifting his head. "Let's go get her back, alpha."
"Yes, let's go get our omega back."
Movement from the corner of my eye draws my attention to the left, pulling me from the memory. An alpha is dragging another alpha along, one who's unconscious and bloody as hell. It takes me a few seconds for realization to hit me.
It's two of the seven bastards from yesterday.
I nearly whistle from how rough they both look. It's safe to say I did a number on them, and I don't regret it one bit. They shouldn't have tried to get between me and my omegas. I feel a sick sense of pride at seeing them limping their way onto the ship, no doubt headed to the med bay.
Truthfully, the bastards are lucky to be alive. They're lucky I was more preoccupied with chasing after Lyra than fighting them.
And speaking of Lyra…
I gently pull her into my side and grab Olo's hand in mine, keeping my mates close. The moment they’re both tucked against me, the growl I didn't realize had started ceases, and I stop baring my teeth in a furious snarl. Now all I can think about it protecting my omegas and getting them home with as few issues as possible. Given the incident yesterday with Lyra and the plaza still fresh in my mind, I want to keep my mates as close as possible. I'm not taking any chances.
They've been through enough, and I'm not going to put them through more trauma just to soothe my fury. The aggression in me itching for a fight dies the moment that thought flits through my head. The pressing need to tear someone to pieces finally disappears.
Chapter 2
Olo
Ourwalkhomeisslow, but I don't mind. It gives us a chance to talk to Lyra about things, things we didn't get to say because her heat hit so quickly once she woke up.
"How old are you?" I softly ask her.
She's walking on the other side of Wen and seems a little lost in her thoughts. It hurts to think about all she suffered in her first two cycles awake here on Strafor. It's not fair that she was exposed to our world like this, and I'd do anything to start all over.
Maybe we should have told the council leaders; maybe then this whole thing could have been avoided and she'd have been safe. These what-ifs are wearing on me, and my guilt is suffocating. Feelings these horrible emotions is the least I can do, though, because it's my fault for wanting to keep her around—to keep her a secret from the council. For wanting her to stay with us during her heat.
There are so many things I should have done to keep her safe. Maybe then she wouldn't have been raped.
"I'm twenty-eight," Lyra mumbles, looking over at me. "What about you two?"
"Wen is forty-five, and I'm forty seven."