Page 18 of Puck Your Charity

I picture the fierce woman standing with her arms crossed outside the Make-A-Wish room. I remember the absolute disgust shining in her brown eyes when she looked at Victor. She overheard everything.

Lawrence curses under his breath. "Olive. The guide who covered for you when you ran away like a coward."

Victor turns the color of ash. His mouth falls open. He looks sick to his stomach.

The realization seems to crush him. I watch his face fall as he connects the dots. He stood in a hospital hallway and complained about the smell of rotting flesh and bleach. He called the charity visit a waste of his free time. He acted like a spoiled, entitled prick in front of the exact woman his body now recognizes as his perfect Omega. He ruined the first impression.

Victor chokes on his next breath. His hands grip the edge of the metal rack behind him. "I insulted her. I stood there andcalled her ward a depressing nightmare. I insulted the sick kid. She heard everything I said."

Finn snarls. He closes the distance between them. "Yeah. She thinks we act like arrogant trash. You ruined any chance we had of a smooth introduction. She looked at me like a lifeline today. But the second she remembers you belong to our pack, she will run in the opposite direction. "

Victor flinches. He looks like he wants the concrete floor to crack open and swallow him whole. His chest caves in as if the weight of his mistake just broke his ribs. I know how his mind works. He uses his anger as a shield to keep people away, but this time, it backfired in a spectacular fashion.

The volatile tension in the room snaps.

Finn lunges forward. His hands reach for Victor's throat. He acts on primal instinct to eliminate the threat to his new mate, pushing loyalty aside. He looks ready for blood.

I move faster.

I step between them. I slam my hands into Finn's chest. I shove him backward with enough force to send him stumbling across the room. The rubber mats squeak in protest under his boots. Spinning around, I glare at Victor. I point a finger at his chest.

"Shut your mouth." I keep my tone hard and demanding. "Don't say another word."

Turning back to Finn and Lawrence, I let my towering frame expand. I fill the space between the three of them. I push my cedar scent out in a suffocating wave of raw dominance. The air in the home gym grows thick with the silent warning.

"Everyone calms down this second." I use the full weight of my Alpha voice. The deep, rumbling command echoes off the concrete walls and vibrates in their chests.

Finn stops in his tracks. He breathes hard, but he lowers his fists. Lawrence drops his chin, exposing his neck in a quiet showof submission. Victor remains frozen against the metal rack. His icy eyes shine wide with profound regret.

"We deal with Victor's mistake later." I keep my voice hard and even. "Right now, our Omega sits locked in a hospital room. She burns alive in a Heat she never expected. Our priority involves getting her out of there. Turning on each other gets us nowhere. It leaves her suffering alone in that hospital. We act as a united pack, or we lose her before we even start."

The chaotic energy in the room settles into a grim, focused silence.

I look at the three men standing in front of me. The feral panic fades from Finn's eyes, replaced by deadly determination. Lawrence looks ready to tear a door off its hinges to get to her. Victor looks shattered, but he nods his head.

"Good." I drop my arms to my sides. "Now we form a plan to get our Omega back."

I take a seat on the leather bench, resting my forearms on my thighs. Finn paces a tight circle near the weight racks. Victor sits on an overturned bucket, staring a hole into the concrete floor.

I look up at Lawrence. "You have friends in high places. You know the hospital director. Make some calls. Find out her status and her exact room number."

Lawrence looks down at his bare chest and the damp towel slung low on his hips. He curses under his breath. "Give me two minutes."

He turns and takes the wooden stairs two at a time. The basement door shuts behind him.

Every second feels like an hour. My skin crawls with the need to move. I picture Olive tossing and turning on a sterile mattress. I imagine the slick coating her thighs and the desperate sounds tearing from her throat. Her body demands a thick knot to ease the fever, and the hospital plans to leave her empty or worse,she’ll use Alpha Aid. The injustice of the medical system makes my blood boil.

Finn taps his boot against the floor in a rapid, relentless rhythm. The sound grates against my nerves. The scent of his distressed ozone clashes with the bitter tang of regret rolling off Victor.

"Stop tapping." Victor keeps his eyes glued to the floor.

Finn glares at him. "Shut the fuck up, Victor."

I shoot them both a warning look. They snap their mouths shut.

The silence in the room stretches. It puts my nerves on edge. My hands grip the edge of the leather bench. I force my breathing to stay even. Taming the urge to break things takes all my focus. Finn grabs the edge of the squat rack. He flexes his fingers around the knurled steel. He looks ready to rip the metal bars out of the concrete floor.

The basement door swings open again.