Unified Omegas (Alpha Elite Series Book 7)

by V T Bonds

  I’d rather slather the inside of my nostrils with sour milk than suffer through his pheromones.

  The downpour ceases when a Beta runs up and wraps Alpha One’s wrist with quick, sure movements.

  By the time I get control of myself and start rolling under the Sky-Flyer, he’s bandaged up and furious.

  His shoe pins my hair to the concrete before I get away.

  I sob and slap at his shin, but he motions to the two Betas beside him and they haul me out.

  I flail and scream, wavering between the past and present.

  With each arm held by a strange male and my Alpha nowhere in sight, this moment is too similar to when I freaked out in my little white cell.

  I may not be naked, but my insides shriek as I remember the frigid air wafting over my lady bits.

  I lean over and vomit, the fear and despair too much.

  When I lift my head, my heart lays still in my chest, the scene too horrific for another beat.

  Dirk stands alone, surrounded by men.

  Too many.

  Alphas. Betas. Weapons everywhere.

  He can’t get hurt. He can’t fight them all.

  Help.

  We need help.

  Meeting my lifemate’s feral eyes, I wail into the web of souls, too terrified to hold back my panic.

  We need help.

  Now.

  “Check her for other weapons.”

  Alpha One’s ugly voice brings my nightmares to life, but I hold Dirk’s gaze, clinging to his strength and love.

  I gulp down my pleas for the Betas to let me go, the instinct to cry for my mommy and for my lifemate welling up from my depths. The icky taste of vomit lingers on my tongue, making my stomach tighten again.

  They pull off my belt and the other two knives Dirk insisted I wear. When they don’t find any other weapons, they pull their dirty hands away from me.

  My feet dart toward Dirk of their own will.

  Alpha One grabs me and tosses me into the Sky-Flyer. My head knocks against the floor, but I catch pieces of Alpha One commanding the two Betas to tie me up and prepare for takeoff.

  No.

  My lifemate’s roar reverberates in my soul as he attacks.

  I sense the bloodbath he orchestrates, but my ears waver between ringing and a scary muted blankness.

  I blink, demanding my eyes to focus.

  The floor fills the right side of my view while the wall fills the other.

  I scoot my hand under my head and feel around and almost freak out when it comes back covered in blood until I realize it isn’t mine.

  With unsteady arms, I push myself up and catch the melee surrounding my Alpha.

  Fountains of blood and brutality surround him.

  He’s still alone.

  I fight the bile climbing up my throat and shuffle to my hands and knees, inching closer to the door.

  Stuck in slow motion, I curse the ringing in my ears as boots block my forward movement.

  As the Beta closes the hatch, Dirk’s tormented blue eyes meet mine.

  I reach for him, pleading for him to live and rescue me, even as a sense of finality creeps along my spine.

  The door closes, cutting me off from the world. Closing me in with these monsters.

  My Alpha is doing everything he can to save me.

  It won’t be enough.

  The instinctual knowledge seeps into my bones, wiping out logical thoughts and wisdom.

  My fingers curl into fists against the cold floor.

  They kept me from him once before. They locked me in a white, frigid cell and did everything they could to break me.

  I will not do it again.

  Slime coats my insides as slim but strong fingers wrap around my biceps and haul me upward.

  The handle of his knife catches my attention.

  My Alpha’s fury infects me, waking the wild, illogical part of my psyche.

  My own loathing fuels my cells as my arm darts forward.

  With my feet dangling off the floor, I snatch his blade from its holster and sink it into his bellybutton in the same motion.

  Satisfaction buries the horror shrieking in my mind.

  I will not let these jerks ruin my life. They will not steal my lifemate or hurt my family.

  As my assailant’s eyes widen and jaw opens in shock, the savage beast ruling me demands I gut him.

  I do.

  I wrap both hands around the hilt and jerk upwards, reveling in the slap of entrails hitting the floor. Warm wetness makes my hands slip on the weapon, but I refuse to let go.

  When he releases me, the blade cuts deeper as I fall, revealing more of his organs and disgusting internal mess.

  I land in his puddle, my feet threatening to slide out from under me as I scurry to get to the side so he doesn’t fall on me.

  As he smacks face first into the solid floor, I turn toward the cockpit.

  This must end.

  Now.

  And I know how.

  My other captor steps through the doorway, his shock over seeing the other soldier giving me the upper hand.

  With all the fury boiling through me, I scream and put my entire body into my attack, raising the knife over my head with both hands and burying it as deep into the side of his neck as I can.

  His jerk makes the hilt slip through my wet fingers. One hand to his neck, he stares at me with fading awareness as his body falls to the ground.

  I step over him, ignoring the way my shoes make sucking noises as I walk through the growing puddle of blood.

  Unsure of where I gained the knowledge, I snap open the covers on two switches near the side of the console.

  My other hand flies over the dashboard, disconnecting everything except the line to the fuel cells.

  Both uncovered switches flash.

  I flip them at the same time.

  Numbers appear on the screen, counting down until the Sky-Flyer will self-destruct.

  I send one thought to my Alpha.

  Run.

  Grabbing the knife on the Beta’s belt as I step over him, I turn to the other side of the Sky-Flyer and run to the tiny escape hatch on the other side.

  Pulling the lever takes several tries, my strength draining as the past few minutes catch up with me. My internal clock screams at me to move faster.

  When the lever finally pops open, I kick at the tiny square until it flies outward.

  I don’t hear it clatter to the floor. The ringing in my ears morphs with odd muted sounds, and things might be spinning.

  Grabbing the lip of the opening, I pull myself through feet first.

  Air rushes across my face as gravity pulls me to the ground.

  Glancing under the Sky-Flyer’s belly, I spot Alpha One’s bloody boots on the opposite side.

  Pushing off the concrete, I stumble to my feet and dart away, sanity creeping into the haze of twirling reality the further I get from the hunk of metal set to explode.

  Please, my sweet Alpha. Please get away.

  Sky-Flyer. Danger.

  Leave.

  Lithe arms wrap around me, but before my scream bursts free or my arm swings in self-defense, violet eyes fill my wonky vision.

  Evie.

  My chest heaves on a broken sob.

  Anastasia’s cold palms guide my face to hers.

  Her lips move, but I can’t hear her.

  Panic explodes in my veins, my actions too vicious and my pain too great to be my own.

  Anastasia flicks the link between us, demanding my attention.

  With concern on her face, she sends images through our bond, and although her message is clear, it takes me a moment to process it.

  I open my mouth to tell her I haven’t seen Jumoke. I’ve been too busy running away.

  We aren’t far enough. We need to keep going.

  Heat blasts across the side of my face as the fuel cells ignite.

  Evie’s strong hands push Anastasia and I to the ground. She takes the brunt of the trauma by
covering us with her body.

  Blinding agony tears through me as my head strikes the concrete.

  Darkness swallows me.

  Chapter Ten

  Anastasia

  Evie twists me as she manipulates my descent, forcing me to my side so I don’t land on my back.

  My shoulder and hip send streaks of misery through my nerves as I land, but the tiny life inside me stays protected.

  Shya lays limp in my arms, blood pooling under her head as I blink in shock.

  Evie’s weight presses us down, shielding us from most of the debris and heat.

  My attempts to corral my thoughts don’t work.

  I do not understand what happened.

  When my brain fails me, I turn to my instincts and search the web of souls.

  Jumoke. We sent him to help Shya. He left a few minutes ago.

  Where is he?

  My temples throb as I throw my entire attention into our bond, seeking the male who soothes my soul and holds my happily ever after in his deft hands.

  He’s breathing, but he’s hurt.

  Profoundly.

  His response mimics Shya’s—a base thump now and then—so he must be unconscious.

  My lifemate lies among our enemy, injured and vulnerable.

  I must save him. Now.

  Oh no.

  Opening my heart to the other members of my family, I lock away the terror as I realize Dirk lies injured too, even closer to the male who caused the black mark on Shya’s soul.

  Sucking in oxygen as I sense the largest member of our family flicker back to consciousness, I urge him to do whatever he needs to find safety.

  Evie joins me, her fierce determination doubling the support I send him, and awed tears gather in my eyes as I sense Nova and Britani join in.

  Nova must be far away. I think she and Seeck made it back to the Sky-Flyer. Britani and Kwame were there too, but not anymore. They seem much closer than they were before the world exploded.

  I will not let my lifemate suffer alone.

  Without his constant light in my dark soul, I feel the encroaching misery of my past. My lost loves wail for his masculine affection.

  My tears dry up as determination floods my fear away.

  The façade I perfected as a young child slips over my features, even as my soul offers every bit of support I possess to Jumoke.

  My mask almost slips as unconditional love blasts into my heart as my Omega sisters—every single one except Shya—flood me with their strength.

  I’m not alone, despite the bereavement infecting me.

  Shya twitches in my arms as Evie shifts off us.

  The crackling of flames surrounds us, almost hiding the screams and footsteps as those closer to the explosion react.

  I force my expression to soften, watching as Shya’s light gray eyes open to reveal blank confusion.

  She blinks once before her irises flash to pink.

  I offer her my purr, wanting with every fiber of my being to jump up and run to Jumoke, but knowing I must rise carefully.

  “Dirk,” Shya whimpers as her body starts to shake.

  “He’s alive, Shya. Focus on me. Evie and I are here with you.” My voice comes out guttural and uneven.

  “Anastasia.”

  Her electric pink eyes search my face.

  “The baby?”

  “Is fine. The baby is fine. Our men are not. Let Evie patch up your head, then we’ll go.”

  “My head?”

  I stop her hand from migrating to her scalp, sensing how close she is to losing all control of herself.

  Evie’s skillful fingers search through her hair.

  “Just a tiny gash, little beauty. Nuffin’ to worry about. Just a quick patch. It’ll be cold before it goes numb,” Evie’s accent seems to have thickened, her focus unwavering despite the pain I sense coursing through her.

  “Evie, you’re hurt?”

  “I caught debris with my back. I’m fine ‘til we reach home base.”

  “Where’s Vander?” I sense him at the edge of my reach but can’t pinpoint him like I can the others.

  “Getting a group of women around a gauntlet. He’s chuffed I sent him away, but he’ll drop ‘em off and be here right quick.”

  Shya tenses as Evie lays a square thing over her injury, but the second Evie’s gentle touch pulls away, Shya pushes up. I help her move slowly, guiding her into a sitting position.

  My body complains as I lift off the ground, but nothing in my abdomen hurts, so I push through until I get my feet under me.

  Shya’s tiny pupils relay her shock and highlight the almost neon pink of her irises as I urge her into a standing position. We both wobble but find strength in the support of our family.

  Evie motions us forward, staying behind us as we hobble the first few steps.

  Residual heat from the blast makes the skin on my face feel tight, even through the mask, and I curse myself for not realizing Shya didn’t have one on earlier.

  She may not have hurt her head if she’d been wearing one.

  Certainly, if our Alphas had not been wearing one, they would no longer be living.

  The thought tightens my stomach, but I force one foot in front of the other and shove my fear away.

  We reach the original carnage and halt, the sight jarring.

  Evie swerves around us, giving me a view of her back for the first time. My growl of outrage makes her flick her violet eyes over her shoulder at me.

  Two pieces of metal, each one larger than my pointer and middle finger together, protrude from the lower left portion of her ribs.

  She sends a flick through our link, giving me a crude gesture within our silent communication. She doesn’t care. She’ll be fine.

  Keep moving.

  I pull Shya forward only for her to dart out of my grasp, her short legs carrying her so quickly I can’t keep up.

  She jumps over charred bodies and writhing men, and when I catch her destination, my heart shoots into my throat.

  Dirk finishes propping himself up on his knees, the kneeling position revealing a piece of metal sticking out of his right thigh. Blood seeps out around it in a steady flow, making my brain fire a synopsis of unwanted memories.

  I’ve seen too much blood in my life, but never from such a strong and strapping Alpha. More pours from a large gash on his left arm.

  It’s too wrong to relegate into a box. It doesn’t fit with the sad experiments I had no choice but to assist.

  Evie steps up beside him, making sure he sees her.

  The grimness leaves his face as Shya catches his attention, his look of joy morphing to one of dark anger as he sees the state of her. I don’t blame him. She’s covered in crimson as well, but at least most of it isn’t her own.

  Shya screeches to a stop next to him, barely avoiding crashing into him. After looking him over, she bursts into tears and wraps her arms around his head, shoving the side of his face between her breasts. His massive hands slide up her back, checking for injury along the way, before spanning his enormous digits across her shoulder blades.

  Evie murmurs as she moves around them, taking stock of Dirk’s damage and diving in with medical supplies.

  I send a desperate plea to my lifemate, begging him to wake up so I can locate him.

  Fingers wrap around my ankle. I look down into a Beta’s face, his misery wafting up. I almost crouch down to help, the agony in his eyes calling forth my urge to ease him, but then his white coat registers.

  I pull out of his weak grasp and step closer to Shya.

  “Where’s Jumoke?”

  Dirk’s eyebrows scrunch together before he turns his head to get a better look at me. He makes no move to extract himself from Shya’s bosom, and with her fierce hold on him, I don’t blame him.

  They need the physical touch to confirm their vitality.

  “I never saw him, but he’s nearby,” Dirk rumbles in a coarse voice.

  A blip in my lifemating link twirls me toward t
he destroyed Sky-Flyer.

  “Where’s Alpha One?”

  Evie’s question bounces around in my ears, but nothing penetrates my concentration.

  Another minor wave of activity flickers between Jumoke and I.

  I skirt around the mass of melting metal and fight for breath.

  My thighs burn as urgency pulls me toward the Alpha who raised me from the bowels of hell and showed me how much light the world holds, his pain awakening with his consciousness.

  Where is he?

  Too frantic to respond to Evie’s shouts, I jump over a chunk of debris, my subconscious telling me it’s the fortified casing of the Sky-Flyer’s roof.

  Large boots protrude, heels up, from the biggest slab of debris, and every last bit of air leaves my lungs as I understand.

  My Jumoke lays pinned under a flaming side panel of the Sky-Flyer.

  Dropping to my knees beside his boots, I search for a handhold along the sharp edge until panic steals over me.

  It’s too heavy. He can’t breathe.

  One boot twitches.

  Silent terror washes through every cell in my body.

  My vision flashes red.

  Refusing to believe my time with him is over, I leap to the longer side of the rectangle and grab the jagged edge.

  Uncaring of the fiery pain lancing up from my covered palms, I lift with my entire body, screaming out my rage at the injustice of our situation.

  This is my Alpha.

  No one will take him away from me.

  My shoulders, back, and thighs strain and shake, but I lift the edge over my head and walk my hands down the underside until I have enough leverage to shove it away.

  Dropping to my lifemate, I rip my mask off to see him better, only to realize my tears cause the blur, not the gear.

  He lies on his stomach—his limbs angled this way and that as though he never got the chance to catch his fall. With his head turned the other way, I can’t see his face.

  Blood spurts from his hand, the overwhelming stench of burnt flesh and coppery blood wiping out my usual pleasure of scenting his pheromones.

  Three of his fingers are too short, and as my mind splinters with panic, my body flies into fight or flight reflex.

  I fight. For him, I’d fight anything.

  Whipping my shirt over my head, I wrap the long sleeve around his severed fingers, internalizing my horror as I pull it tight and tie it in a surgeon’s knot. Yanking my knife from my belt, I cut the sleeve free of the shirt and move to his shoulder.