Return of the worthless omega

(Bastian’s POV)

My wolf was screaming.

It was a wild, deafening howl that tore through my chest, drowning out the alarms, the clashing steel, and the bloodlust that had driven me across the Hilton border. For five brutal years, my wolf had been a silent, cold beast of war, hardened by my father’s murder and the blood of my enemies.

I took another step forward, my heavy combat boots practically sinking into the dirt floor as I reached out toward her.

She was huddled in the dark, her small body trembling against a stack of wooden crates, holding a frightened pup behind her back. She wore a faded, oversized dress that hung off her delicate collarbones. Her dark eyes were wide, glittering with absolute terror, but beneath the fear laid a beauty that made my heart hammer violently against my ribs.

Protect her. Claim her. Tear apart anyone who brought that terror into her eyes.

"Alpha!"

A harsh voice shattered the trance. Beta Silas dropped into the ruined hatchway behind me, his broadsword drawn and his eyes sweeping the dark room for threats. "We’ve breached the lower armory, but King Centauri’s elite guards are falling back toward the central tower. If we push now, we can choke them in the main hall—"

Silas stopped abruptly. His gaze fell on my dropped sword, then drifted to the terrified girl cowering in the corner. His nostrils flared, trying to catch whatever scent had brought me to a dead halt.

I snapped out of the haze, my instincts kicking in like a steel trap. Before Silas could step closer, I moved, placing my massive frame directly between my Beta and my mate, blocking her completely from his sight.

"Stand down, Silas," I growled. My voice was a low, guttural snarl that made the stone walls vibrate.

Silas blinked, stunned. "Sir? The assault…"

"I said stand down," I snapped, turning my head just enough to glare at him with glowing amber eyes. "Order a full retreat. Immediately."

"Retreat?!" Silas’s jaw dropped. "Alpha, we have the upper hand! We broke their northern wards, we’re inside their stronghold! If we pull back now, Centauri will reinforce the perimeter…"

"Are you questioning your Alpha, Beta?" I took a single step toward him, letting the crushing weight of my Alpha aura flood the corridor.

Silas paled, dropping his eyes instantly, his knees buckling under the sheer pressure of my authority. "No, Alpha. Forgive me. I will... I will sound the horn."

"Sound it," I ordered coldly. "Fallback to the southern ridge. Move!"

Silas scrambled backward out of the hatchway, shouting orders into his comm-link as he sprinted down the passage.

I turned back to the dark corner. My heart ached to reach for her, to pull her into my arms, to scent her neck until the smell of Hilton was completely wiped from her skin. But when I took half a step forward, she flinched, pulling the pup tighter into her waist.

She was terrified of me. To her, I was the Northern Monster who had just blown her world apart.

Not yet, my wolf whimpered, fighting against every instinct I possessed. If you force her now, she will hate us.

"I will come back for you," I whispered, keeping my voice soft, letting my mate-bond pulse toward her in a gentle, warm wave to calm her panic. "I promise you, little bird."

I retrieved my broadsword, backed out of the broken hatch, and pulled a heavy iron beam across the entrance to seal her safely inside, away from the retreating crossfire.

(Rachael’s POV)

The heavy iron beam clattered into place above the hatch, sealing us back into the darkness.

My chest rose and fell in jagged, frantic gasps. My skin was still burning where his gaze had swept over me. The gold scent of mahogany and winter rain lingered in the air, so thick I could taste it on my tongue.

My true mate.

The words echoed in my head, terrifying and absurd. Alpha Bastian, the most ruthless warrior in the northern territories was my true mate? I was a muted, packless Omega who spent her days scrubbing floors, and he was a king.

Above us, the sharp, mournful blast of a war horn echoed through the stone structure.

Shouts of confusion echoed through the corridors above as the Silver Pack warriors began a sudden, miraculous withdrawal. Within twenty minutes, the deafening sounds of battle faded into a heavy silence.

"Rachael?" Tony’s small voice broke through my shock. "Did... did the bad man leave?"

"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling as I stroked his hair. "He left."

Heavy, rhythmic footsteps suddenly echoed down the service passage outside. Before I could move, the iron beam above us was thrown aside with a loud clang.

The hatch swung open, and the harsh, white glare of torchlight flooded the bunker.

Crown Prince Vinca stood at the top of the opening, his dark hair disheveled. Behind him stood six heavily armed guards.

His icy grey eyes scanned the ruined bunker, landing first on the broken lock, then on Tony, and finally settling on me.

Vinca descended the stairs slowly, like a predator stalking cornered prey. He stopped a foot away from me, his jaw clenching as he took in my disheveled state.

"The war horn sounded from right above this sector," Vinca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He reached out with a leather-gloved hand, catching my chin in a tight, bruising grip and forcing my face up. "Bastian had us cornered. He could have taken the Tower today. Yet he called a total retreat from this exact passage."

Vinca’s eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits as he leaned down, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air around my face.

"Why was the Northern Beast in your hiding spot, Omega?" Vinca hissed, his grip on my jaw tightening until I gasped. "And why do you smell like his scent?"