Did his belly hit the metal? What if he miscarried? What if it endangered his life somehow?
For a fleeting moment, Spike imagined losing Micah. He imagined not having Micah by his side, not having Micah smile as he taught those classes he loved so much. He imagined not having Micah taking a selfie with Kai, he imagined Micah just... gone.
Ice-cold fear gripped his spine. I shouldn’t have let him leave. I should’ve made him stay so I can protect him. Spike snarled, barreling into the drunks, throwing a punch at the one who had hurt his omega.
The alphas bellowed, rounding on him. Four against one. Spike didn’t care.
Their movements were sloppy. He clocked them in the jaw, all four of them, landing punches and kicks, until someone grabbed him by the throat, hauling him backward. Spike lost his balance and stumbled.
Someone punched him in the side of his head, stunning him. Then more punches rained down, punches that hurt.
Briefly, the assault faded. Spike turned to find two alphas advancing on Micah; his stomach turned.
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed an alpha that looked like Kai, who had stepped out of the store. The alpha joined in, and one of the drunks grabbed the Kai-lookalike, slamming him into the wall.
Spike’s heart clenched. In that moment, when he’d heard that sickening crunch, he’d imagined his brother there against the wall, something of Kai’s breaking. And that sent a second wave of rage through him. Not Kai. Anyone but Kai, and Micah.
Spike punched the closest drunk, seeing red. He shouldn’t have told Kai I hate you. He didn’t hate Kai. He wanted Kai back, he wanted Kai any way he could, and this... none of this was right.
It didn’t matter what Spike was, what Spike could do. He would try harder. He would do better if that meant having his alpha and omega by his side again.
With a roar, Spike turned on the alphas, punching them, taking one of the alphas down. Then he turned, and a heavy fist collided with his skull. Spike snarled, blinded by pain. Where was Micah?
Fear prickled his mind. He whirled around, trying to find his omega. Except a fist landed against his jaw, sending him stumbling backward.
His head hit the wall with a painful crack. Spike blinked; black spots winked through his vision. Alphas loomed over him with leering grins. Then the world went dark.
36
Micah
Micah clutched his phone, swaying. Spike was surrounded by alphas, all of them bigger and burlier than him. He was outnumbered. Spike had had the upper hand on them at first, except someone had gotten the better of him, somehow.
One of the alphas grabbed Spike’s hair. Another grabbed his throat and tried to choke him. The other three began to rain blows on his face, his stomach, and Micah’s gut twisted for his alpha.
“Stop!” Micah cried, looking around for help. He needed to step in, distract them somehow. Except his body ached, his shoulder hurt where he’d crashed into the automatic doors, their dark hinges almost crushing his fingers. And his baby—he needed to protect his baby. “Someone please help!”
Spike took a punch to his jaw. Micah looked around, but the shopping carts were too far away. He had his walking stick. Then he flipped it around to grasp the rubber-tipped end, and slammed its handle hard against two of the alphas’ heads.
The alphas snarled and rounded on Micah; Spike glanced over, fear flickering in his eyes when he found his attackers heading for Micah.
One alpha broke Spike’s line of sight. Micah swung the walking stick at him again, but the alpha caught it, tearing it out of Micah’s grip. Menace glittered in his eyes.
Vulnerable, Micah stumbled backward, his heart in his throat. He needed to get Spike out of here. But how?
Behind, an alpha made use of Spike’s distraction to punch him in the eye. Spike recoiled. Micah’s chest hurt for him.
Someone rushed out of the grocery store then—another alpha, dark-haired like Kai. It wasn’t Kai. But it could have been, and Micah watched helplessly as the Kai-lookalike hauled away one of the alphas coming to crowd around Micah, slamming his fist into the alpha’s jaw.
The other alphas growled, heading over to gang up on the Kai-lookalike. Micah tore his walking stick away from them, only for an alpha to turn back toward him.
Someone slammed the Kai-lookalike against the wall. Something crunched wetly. The alpha slumped to the ground.
Not Kai, too. Micah shook, fear closing around his throat. They were drunk. They should’ve been easier to handle than this.
Spike roared, punching two of the alphas. They turned back to him, grabbing his throat. Slammed him against the building. Then an alpha punched him, smashing his head against the wall. Spike’s eyes glazed over.
Terror sluiced through Micah’s veins. Spike!
He staggered forward, clobbering the alphas on the head with his walking stick, as hard as he could. They rounded on him with ferocious snarls. And Micah didn’t care what happened to himself, as long as they left Spike and the Kai-lookalike alone. Don’t hurt them. They aren’t yours to touch.
Store employees came running out through the doors, separating the alphas from Micah, pummeling them to the ground. The moment the alphas were restrained, Micah limped over to where Spike lay, his nose bloodied, his eyes shut. A trail of blood led to the Kai-lookalike. How had a grocery store visit ended up like this?
Micah shook, the endless horrific possibilities sprawling out around him. What if the fight had been worse? What if there had been guns involved? What if Kai had been here, and he’d gotten hurt, too?
His heart wringing, Micah crouched between them, gingerly stroking Spike’s hair. Spike didn’t move.
“Wake up, Spike,” Micah said shakily.
But Spike didn’t wake. His silence gnawed at Micah, foreboding. What if Spike never woke?
Panic slid like ice through Micah’s veins. He couldn’t bear to think of a life without Spike. Or Kai. But the images filled his
