Four Bikers Alphas And Their Broken Omega.

Elara

I woke to the sound of beeping. Pain exploded through my left leg the moment I tried to move.

I gasped, my hands flying down to clutch at the heavy bandages wrapped around my thigh. The memory crashed over me slowly... rain, headlights, the sickening crunch of metal against bone.

"You're awake," a voice said beside me. I jerked my head to the side and found him sitting in the plastic chair beside my bed, his massive frame somehow folded into the tiny space. Shaved head. A broken nose that had healed crooked. Tattoos crawled up his arms and disappeared beneath the collar of his leather cut.

"Who..." My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. "Who are you?"

"Name's Jax." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Fury, to the brothers. I'm the one who hit you."

My blood ran cold. "You hit me. You hit me with your motorcycle."

"T'was an accident." His jaw tightened. "You ran out of the dark. I swerved, but I couldn't miss you completely. The doc says you got a fractured leg, a concussion, and some nasty road rash. You'll heal."

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. The bruises on his knuckles told me he was a man who used his fists. The patch on his cut read Sergeant-at-Arms. The words meant nothing to me, but the weight behind them felt like a threat.

"I have to leave," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "They'll find me."

"Who'll find you?" Jax studied me for a long moment, his brow furrowed. But before I could respond, the door to my room burst open.

A uniformed man filled the doorway. The Sheriff. Thick mustache. Hands resting on his belt like he was reaching for something.

"Miss Vance," he announced. "I need to take your statement regarding the accident. Protocol requires..."

"She's not giving any statement."

Jax rose from his chair, and suddenly the room felt half its size. The sheriff's hand drifted closer to his holster.

"Step aside, Mr. Maddox. This is official police business."

"She's a minor."

"I'm twenty-four," I blurted out.

Neither man looked at me.

"She's under my club's protection," Jax said flatly. "You want her statement, you come through me. And you don't want to come through me."

The sheriff's face reddened. "You can't just..."

"I can. I am. Get out."

The stare down felt like it lasted for an eternity. Then the sheriff muttered something under his breath, spun on his heel, and stalked out of the room. The door slammed behind him.

I was already moving.

The moment the sheriff left, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Pain lanced through my fractured leg, white-hot and blinding, but I bit down on the scream that tried to claw its way out of my throat.

I took one step. Then another. My leg buckled beneath me, and I grabbed the IV stand to keep from collapsing.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Jax was on me in two strides, his massive hand clamping down on my arm. I tried to jerk free, but his grip was firm.

"Let go of me!" I thrashed, my free hand slapping uselessly against his chest. "You don't understand. They'll find me. They'll lock me away and I'll never get out and Rachel will die and..."

I was sobbing now, the words tumbling out in a broken rush. Jax didn't let go. He just stood there, holding me upright, his expression unreadable.

"Stop," he said quietly. "Stop fighting. You'll hurt yourself worse."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do."

The door opened again. This time, a new man stepped through... taller than Jax, broader, with salt-and-pepper stubble and ice-blue eyes that pinned me to the spot. His cut read President. His presence filled the room in a way that made Jax seem almost small.

Behind him, two more men slipped through the door. One lean and hawkish, with golden-brown eyes...the other lithe and angular, with silver-gray eyes.

Four of them. Four bikers. And every single one of them was staring at me like I was the answer to a question they hadn't known they were asking.

The eldest stepped forward. I didn't know his name yet, but I could feel it in my bones...this was the Alpha. The one who made the rules.

"Release her," he said to Jax.

"Kade..." Jax started to say but his grip loosened immediately. I stumbled back, my broken leg screaming in protest, and collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

Kade circled me slowly, his ice-blue eyes never leaving my face. He leaned in close, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. I flinched, expecting violence... expecting everything I had ever known from men in power.

Instead, his eyes flickered gold.

I froze.

"What..." My voice died in my throat.

Kade straightened. His jaw tightened.

"What are you?" he said. "Your scent... it's faint... You're a shifter. A latent one."

I shook my head. "That's impossible. I'm an omega. I can't shift. I've never..."

"You've been suppressed." Kade replied. "Someone blocked your wolf. But the scent is unmistakable. You're one of us. Pack property. Under our sacred laws, you fall under my protection."

Pack property. The words made my stomach lurch. I had escaped one cage only to be shoved into another.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. I don't belong to anyone. I don't belong to any pack. I'm not..."

He cut me off.

"You have two choices. Stay here and wait for whoever is hunting you to find you. Or come with us to the clubhouse. You'll be protected there."

Jax stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "She can't walk, Prez. Leg's busted."

"Then carry her."

Before I could protest, Jax scooped me into his arms like I weighed nothing. My broken leg screamed, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.

"Put me down!"

"Not a chance, princess." Jax's voice was rough but not unkind. "You're coming with us whether you like it or not."