“Where’s Ollie?” Eric asked, glancing into the backroom. The shop smelled like carnation, but his omega was gone.
Levi wrinkled his forehead. “I think he went out back.”
Eric stared at the backdoor. Wondered if he was just being paranoid with this bad feeling. Because it lingered at the back of his throat, urging him to do something.
Then someone screamed, the sound muffled. Eric’s stomach dropped. Ollie?
“Where’d that come from?” Levi looked through the shopfront windows.
Eric didn’t stop to answer. He brushed past Levi into the backroom, his anxiety setting his teeth on edge. If Olivier got hurt, if Eric somehow lost Ollie... If he was too late...
What if someone had threatened Olivier, and Eric wasn’t in time to save him? Like he’d failed to save Alice?
Because worse than breaking up with Ollie, worse than not seeing him, was the threat that Eric might never get to hold Olivier in his arms again, and tell that idiot how much Eric loved him.
He flung the backdoor open, freezing at the sight—the rows of cars, and just paces away, Olivier kneeling on the ground, Zan gripping his hair, Zan’s foot on his belly. Zan yanked Ollie’s head toward himself; Ollie’s face twisted in revulsion.
White-hot fury blazed through Eric. Don’t fuck with my omega!
He roared, lunging at Zan. Zan flung Olivier away; Olivier wore red marks on his face like he’d been hit.
How dare anyone hit him?
Eric swung his fist at Zan, clocking him hard in the jaw. Zan was heavy, knocking Eric’s other hand away. But Eric found strength in his anger, found purchase as he grabbed Zan’s shirt and yanked him back, slamming him first into a car bumper, then the brick wall of the building.
“Don’t you fucking hurt him,” Eric snarled, slamming his fist straight into Zan’s nose. It crunched beneath his knuckles.
And yet Eric was not satisfied. Zan growled, punching back. Eric hardly felt the pain.
“He begged me to hit him,” Zan said, teeth bloody. “I was just gonna put a baby into him. Your marking isn’t there, fucker.”
Eric’s ears rang. He heard nothing else. Just pummeled into Zan over and over, his strikes faster and more powerful than Zan’s. Zan landed some hits; Eric took them. He kept smashing his fist into Zan’s face, his gut, cracking Zan’s head into the side of the brick until blood smeared on the wall.
Zan crumpled to the ground. Eric watched him, breathing hard, his pulse roaring in his ears.
“He’s not yours,” Eric seethed. “Don’t you fucking touch him again.”
He turned, raking his eyes over Olivier. Ollie had backed up against the brick wall, watching them with wide, frightened eyes. His face was swollen, tear-streaked. Eric’s chest squeezed tight. Ollie was in pain. Zan had hurt him.
“Hey,” Eric said, stepping slowly forward. Didn’t want to frighten Ollie anymore.
But Ollie’s mouth fell open. He was looking past Eric, at Zan.
“Eric,” Olivier yelped.
Eric spun around, glimpsing the flash of steel too late. Zan drew his hand back and flung the dagger at Olivier.
Eric’s thoughts blanked. He thought nothing of himself. It was all Ollie—his bondmate, his baby, his family right here, and Eric could not lose any of them.
He threw himself into dagger’s path, barely knocking it to the side.
It sliced through his jeans and clattered to the ground inches from Olivier’s fingers, its edge smeared with blood. Olivier flinched, crying out.
Could’ve sliced his fingers off. How dare you fucking treat him that way?
Eric whirled around on Zan, grabbing him by the collar. Slammed his head into the wall. This was the person who had hurt Ollie countless times in the past. Ollie never had the strength to push back. And now Eric was repaying every hurt Ollie had suffered.
Zan struggled. Eric mashed Zan’s face into the brick, repeatedly, until Zan fell limp in his hands, his forehead a bloody mess.
Only then did Eric pause, his veins pounding with adrenaline and ferocity.
He thought about finishing Zan off with the dagger. It would be so simple—just a clean slit across his throat. But he had Jenn and Ollie to care for—he couldn’t land himself in jail. Couldn’t throw away his future just because of some damn bastard.
Eric turned, fists clenched, his face throbbing. Met Olivier’s frightened eyes, Olivier’s cheeks swollen from Zan’s blows.
Eric hesitated. He’d paid violence to Zan, the same violence that Zan had brought onto Olivier. What if he’d scared Ollie with this? What if Olivier never returned to him?
Eric gulped, his heart thumping. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.
And suddenly Eric was afraid, all over again. He’d exposed his worst side to Olivier—the recklessness, the violence. Ollie shouldn’t want him back.
Except Eric had almost lost Ollie, he’d almost let Ollie slip through his fingers, and this time... he couldn’t let his fear get in the way. Not when a future with his omega was at stake.
“Are you—” Eric cleared his throat “—Are you okay?”
Ollie nodded mutely, glancing at Eric, then Zan. “What about you?” he rasped.
“I’m fine.”
Slowly, Eric stepped forward, his heart squeezing when Olivier leaned away. Do you see me as a monster now?
He knelt next to Olivier, his pulse racing. Touched Olivier’s shin with his fingertips. This time, Ollie didn’t retreat. Eric felt a little braver. “You hurt?”
Olivier shrugged. He didn’t look okay. Not the downward pull of his lips, not the rawness in his eyes. He hugged himself, his shoulders hunched, his lower lip swollen.
No omega should ever be treated like this.
“How’re you feeling?” Eric whispered.
“Scared.”
Eric’s heart ached. He swallowed hard, gingerly touching his fingertips to Ollie’s hands, where Ollie was clutching his arms so hard his knuckles had turned white. “Because of Zan?”
Olivier shrugged again.
“Or... because of me?”
Olivier looked away. It was a yes. Eric couldn’t breathe. He’d fucked up, then. Should’ve expected as much. His chest tight, Eric asked, “Do you want me to leave?”
At that, Olivier’s gaze locked with his. “You’re leaving?” he asked, panicked.
Eric read the loneliness in his eyes, the desperation. Did Ollie... want him back?
His heart
