The Omega who Killed her Alpha

The seconds stretched into eternity as Adira crouched behind the crumbling wall, her breaths shallow and rapid. The damp, metallic scent of rust filled the air, mingling with the faint echoes of Malik's relentless pursuit. The stranger—her so-called ally—peered through a crack in the wall, his expression unreadable.

"He's close," he murmured, barely audible.

Adira shot him a sharp look. "You don't say," she hissed.

Malik's voice boomed down the alley. "You've made this far worse than it needed to be, Adira! Come out now, and I might reconsider breaking every bone in your body."

Her heart pounded against her ribs, each beat screaming at her to move, to run. But there was nowhere to go. Not yet.

The stranger—what was his name again? He hadn't even bothered to introduce himself—turned to her, his dark eyes narrowed. "If we wait too long, he'll find us. You need to decide."

"Decide what?"

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "Whether you want to keep running or start fighting."

The words hit her like a slap. Fighting? She barely had the strength to keep herself upright, let alone take on Malik. Yet, something in the stranger's calm demeanor made her hesitate. He wasn't panicking. If anything, he seemed ready—almost eager—for what came next.

"I'm not suicidal," she whispered back. "We'll run when the time is right."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Running doesn't solve anything. It just delays the inevitable."

Before she could respond, a sudden crash echoed nearby. Malik had kicked over a stack of crates, the splintering wood sending a sharp crack through the alley.

Adira's pulse quickened. They were out of time.

Without waiting for her to agree, the stranger motioned for her to follow him. He moved silently, slipping through the narrow passageway like a shadow. Adira hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed, her instincts screaming at her to trust no one.

They reached the end of the alley and emerged into a deserted courtyard. The full moon hung overhead, casting an eerie glow over the cracked pavement and the skeletal remains of an old fountain.

"This way," the stranger said, leading her toward a rusted gate.

But before they could reach it, Malik's voice rang out behind them.

"There you are!"

Adira whipped around, her eyes locking onto Malik as he emerged from the shadows. His face was a mask of fury, his hand gripping a crowbar.

The stranger stepped in front of her, his posture relaxed but purposeful.

"Stay back," he warned.

Malik sneered. "And who the hell are you?"

"The last person you want to cross tonight," the stranger replied, his tone even.

Malik let out a harsh laugh. "Cute. But I'm here for her, not you."

"Then you'll have to go through me."

Adira's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know this man, didn't trust him, but the way he stood his ground sent a flicker of something foreign through her—a mixture of fear and reluctant hope.

Malik didn't waste time. He lunged forward, swinging the crowbar with a vicious arc. The stranger sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing Malik's wrist and twisting it sharply. The crowbar clattered to the ground, and Malik let out a grunt of pain.

Adira didn't wait to see what would happen next. She darted toward the gate, her fingers fumbling with the rusted latch. It wouldn't budge.

Behind her, the sounds of the scuffle grew louder—grunts, the crunch of fists meeting flesh, the scrape of boots on the pavement.

"Hurry up!" the stranger barked, his voice strained.

"I'm trying!" she snapped, throwing her weight against the gate. It creaked but didn't give.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back. She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat.

It wasn't Malik.

The stranger stood there, his face flushed and a thin line of blood trailing from his temple. He glanced over his shoulder, where Malik lay crumpled on the ground, groaning but still conscious.

"We need to move," the stranger said, pulling her forward. With a swift kick, he forced the gate open, and they slipped through into another narrow alley.

Adira didn't look back.

They ran in silence, the only sound their labored breaths and the occasional bark of a distant dog. The city seemed to close in around them, its labyrinth of alleys and dead ends threatening to swallow them whole.

Finally, they reached a small, abandoned building on the edge of the district. The stranger pushed the door open and ushered her inside.

"Wait here," he said, disappearing into the shadows.

Adira leaned against the wall, her legs trembling. Her hands still clutched the blood-stained note, the paper now crumpled and damp with sweat. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the smudged words for the hundredth time.

Trust no one. He's watching.

The stranger returned moments later, carrying a small first aid kit. He sat down across from her, his movements deliberate but unhurried.

"Let me see your arm," he said, gesturing to the small cut she hadn't even noticed.

She hesitated, then extended her arm. He worked silently, dabbing at the wound with a piece of gauze.

"Who are you?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He didn't look up. "Someone who doesn't want to see you dead."

"That's not an answer."

He sighed, leaning back. "Call me Kane."

"Is that your real name?"

"Does it matter?"

Adira frowned but didn't press the issue. She studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darted to the door every few seconds. He was cautious, maybe even paranoid.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

Kane's gaze locked onto hers. "The same thing you want. To bring Viktor down."

Her stomach twisted. How did he know about her mission?

"You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice low.

"I know enough."

She stood, pacing the small room. "If you think I'm going to trust you just because you saved me back there, you're wrong."

"I don't expect you to trust me," Kane said. "But we both know you can't do this alone."

Adira stopped, her fists clenched at her sides. He was right, and she hated him for it. She had spent months planning, gathering intel, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But now, everything was unraveling.

She turned to face him. "If you're lying to me—"

"I'm not."

His calm certainty was infuriating, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. She was out of options.

Kane stood, his expression serious. "You want to survive? You want to finish what you started? Then you'll need my help."

Adira stared at him, her mind racing. Could she trust him? Did she even have a choice?

Before she could answer, the sound of distant sirens filled the air, growing louder by the second.

Kane's jaw tightened. "We need to move."

Adira nodded, her resolve hardening. She didn't know where this alliance would lead, but one thing was certain—she wasn't going to let Viktor win.

Not now. Not ever.