The Omega who Killed her Alpha

Lucas's fists clenched at his sides as the echo of Elira's voice dissolved into the static of the communicator. Her message had been brief but devastating. "Don't trust them, Lucas. They knew."

The dim glow of Arden's safe house flickered over the tense faces of the rebels. Arden leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Lucas intently.

"What did she say?" Arden's tone was sharp, almost accusatory.

Lucas didn't answer immediately. He stared at the communicator, his mind racing. The weight of Elira's warning bore down on him. She was alive—that alone should have been cause for relief—but her words made his stomach churn.

"She said… someone betrayed us," Lucas finally muttered, his voice strained.

The room went silent.

Arden's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, betrayed us?"

Lucas met his gaze, anger simmering beneath his composure. "She said they knew. That means someone tipped off Viktor about our plans."

Arden pushed off the wall, his expression darkening. "You're suggesting there's a traitor among us?"

The accusation hung in the air like a guillotine. The rebels exchanged uneasy glances, tension crackling between them.

"It's the only explanation," Lucas said firmly. He paced the room, his boots scuffing against the worn floorboards. "Viktor's men were waiting for us at every turn. They knew about the shipments, the safe houses, everything."

One of the rebels, a wiry man named Kade, stepped forward. "Hold on. Are you accusing one of us? We've all risked our lives for this cause!"

"And some of us have more to lose than others," Arden cut in, his voice cold.

Kade bristled. "What are you implying, Westfall?"

"Enough!" Lucas snapped, his voice slicing through the rising argument. He turned to Arden. "We don't have time for this. Elira is alive, and she needs our help. That's all that matters right now."

Arden's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Fine. What's the plan?"

Lucas hesitated. He couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were closing in on him. Every step forward seemed to uncover more lies, more secrets.

"She said she's being held in the lower district," Lucas said, finally meeting Arden's gaze. "We need to move fast. If Viktor knows she contacted me—"

"He'll use her as bait," Arden finished grimly.

Lucas nodded. The thought of Elira in Viktor's clutches made his blood boil, but he couldn't let anger cloud his judgment.

"We'll split into two teams," he said, taking charge. "One group will create a diversion in the upper district to draw Viktor's men away. The other will infiltrate the lower district and get Elira out."

Arden frowned. "And what happens if this traitor of yours is in the team?"

Lucas's eyes hardened. "Then we'll deal with them when the time comes."

The air was heavy with tension as the teams prepared to move out. Lucas stood in the corner of the room, checking his weapons and replaying Elira's message in his mind.

"Don't trust them, Lucas."

The words gnawed at him. Who could she have meant? Arden? Kade? One of the other rebels? He hated the doubt creeping into his thoughts, but he couldn't afford to ignore it.

"Lucas."

He turned to see Arden approaching, his expression unreadable.

"What is it?"

"I don't like this," Arden said bluntly. "Sending half our forces into the upper district is a risk we can't afford."

"It's the only way to get Elira out," Lucas replied.

Arden studied him for a moment. "You're sure this isn't personal?"

Lucas's jaw tightened. "Of course it's personal. But it's also the right move."

Arden didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. Instead, he handed Lucas a small device.

"What's this?" Lucas asked, examining it.

"A signal jammer. It'll block Viktor's men from communicating while you're in the lower district. Use it wisely."

Lucas nodded, slipping the device into his pocket.

"Be careful," Arden said quietly.

"You too," Lucas replied, though he wasn't sure he meant it.

The lower district was a labyrinth of crumbling buildings and shadowed alleys, the air thick with the smell of rust and decay. Lucas led his team through the maze, every step calculated, every sound scrutinized.

"Stay close," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of distant machinery.

Kade and the others followed silently, their weapons at the ready. Lucas's heart pounded in his chest, not from fear but from the sheer weight of the mission.

Elira was here. He could feel it.

They reached the rendezvous point—a decrepit warehouse on the edge of the district. Lucas signaled for the team to stop and scanned the area.

"It's too quiet," Kade muttered, his eyes darting nervously.

Lucas nodded. The stillness was unsettling, like the calm before a storm.

"Stay alert," he said.

He pushed open the warehouse door, the rusted hinges groaning in protest. The inside was dark, the only light coming from a flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Spread out," Lucas ordered.

The team moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Lucas's grip tightened on his weapon as he made his way to the center of the room.

And then he saw it.

A single chair sat in the middle of the warehouse, a figure slumped over in it.

"Elira," Lucas breathed, rushing forward.

But as he got closer, his heart sank. The figure wasn't Elira. It was a decoy—a mannequin dressed in a tattered cloak.

A faint beeping sound filled the air.

"Get back!" Lucas shouted, but it was too late.

The explosion rocked the warehouse, the force of it throwing Lucas to the ground. His ears rang as debris rained down around him.

When the dust settled, he pushed himself up, coughing and disoriented.

"Is everyone okay?" he called out, his voice hoarse.

A chorus of groans and murmurs answered him. Kade emerged from the rubble, blood trickling down his forehead.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"A trap," Lucas said grimly.

Before he could say more, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Lucas turned, his weapon raised, as a group of armed men entered, their faces obscured by masks.

At their head was Malik.

"Hello, Lucas," Malik said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Lucas's grip tightened on his weapon. "Where's Elira?"

Malik smirked. "Safe and sound. For now."

Lucas took a step forward, his eyes blazing. "If you've hurt her—"

"You'll what?" Malik interrupted, his tone taunting. "You're outnumbered and outgunned. Surrender now, and I might let your friends live."

Lucas's mind raced. They were trapped, but he couldn't give up—not when Elira's life was at stake.

He glanced at Kade and the others, then back at Malik.

"Your move," Malik said, his smirk widening.

Lucas took a deep breath.

And then he charged.