The Omega who Killed her Alpha

The air was thick with tension as Adira crouched in the corner of the abandoned church. Her breaths came in shallow bursts, and her pulse pounded in her ears. The stranger who'd saved her—if "saved" was the right word—stood by the cracked window, peering out into the dark alley.

"They'll find us," she whispered, her voice low but sharp.

"Not if you stay quiet," he replied without turning around. His calmness grated on her nerves.

Adira shifted, her fingers brushing against the damp stone floor. She hated feeling cornered, reliant on someone else's plan. Especially his.

"What's your angle?" she demanded, keeping her voice just above a whisper.

The man turned, his dark eyes scanning her face. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in a way that made her feel like she was the one under scrutiny. "My angle?"

"Yes," she snapped. "No one helps someone like me without wanting something in return."

He chuckled, a soft, humorless sound. "Maybe I just don't like Viktor's goons."

"Try again."

The man's gaze sharpened. "You've got guts, I'll give you that." He pushed off the wall and took a step closer, his movements deliberate. "But if you want answers, you're going to have to trust me."

Adira snorted, the sound bitter. "Trust? That's a luxury I can't afford."

"Suit yourself," he said, turning back to the window. "But unless you've got a better plan, you're stuck with me."

Her fists clenched at his dismissive tone, but he wasn't wrong. Outside, Malik and his men were combing the streets, their voices growing louder. She couldn't face them alone, and running blindly wasn't an option anymore.

She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to think. "Fine," she muttered. "For now."

The man glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of amusement in his expression. "Good choice."

Adira bristled but said nothing.

He moved to the doorway, his steps silent. "We need to get out of here before they decide to check inside."

"How?"

He pulled a small knife from his boot and twirled it between his fingers. "There's a passage beneath the church. It leads to the old catacombs."

Her stomach churned at the thought. "And how do you know about that?"

He smirked. "Let's just say this isn't my first time hiding from people like Malik."

Adira hesitated. She hated feeling out of control, and this man—whoever he was—had control in spades. But she didn't have the luxury of choice.

"Lead the way," she said, her voice firm.

Without another word, he pushed open a hidden panel in the floor, revealing a dark, narrow staircase. The smell of damp earth and decay wafted up, making her stomach twist.

"After you," he said, gesturing with mock politeness.

Adira shot him a glare but descended the steps, her hand skimming the rough stone wall for balance. The darkness swallowed her as she moved deeper, her other hand gripping the note in her pocket.

Behind her, the panel creaked shut, plunging them into silence.

The air grew colder as they walked, the only sound their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Adira's nerves prickled with every step, her instincts screaming that this was a mistake.

"What's your name?" she asked, her voice breaking the tense silence.

"Call me Kael," he replied.

"Is that your real name?"

A soft laugh escaped him. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

Kael didn't respond, and the silence stretched between them.

They rounded a corner, and Adira's heart nearly stopped at the sight of flickering torchlight ahead. She grabbed Kael's arm, pulling him to a halt.

"Someone's there," she hissed.

Kael's eyes narrowed as he studied the light. "Stay here."

Before she could protest, he moved forward, his knife glinting faintly in the torchlight. Adira pressed herself against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest.

The seconds dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Finally, Kael returned, his expression unreadable.

"It's clear," he said.

She followed him cautiously, her eyes darting to the shadows. The corridor opened into a larger chamber, its walls lined with crumbling stone coffins. A single torch burned in a sconce on the far wall, casting eerie shadows across the room.

"This doesn't feel right," Adira muttered, her voice barely audible.

Kael didn't respond. He was focused on something on the ground—a series of scuff marks leading toward another passage.

"Someone's been here recently," he said.

Adira's stomach tightened. "Who?"

"Could be anyone," Kael said, but his tone suggested he didn't believe his own words.

Before she could press him further, a distant sound reached their ears—the faint echo of footsteps.

Adira's blood ran cold. "They found us."

Kael's jaw tightened. "Stay behind me."

"No," she said, her voice firm. "I'm not hiding while you fight my battles."

He glanced at her, something like respect flickering in his eyes. "Suit yourself. But don't get in my way."

The footsteps grew louder, closer. Adira gripped the cold stone wall, her body tensed like a coiled spring.

And then the first figure emerged—a hulking man with a scarred face and a sneer that made her skin crawl.

"Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "Looks like we caught ourselves a couple of rats."

Kael stepped forward, his knife gleaming in the torchlight. "Back off," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Or what? You'll take us all on by yourself?"

Kael didn't answer. He didn't need to. The way he moved, the way he held the knife—it spoke volumes.

Adira's fingers itched to grab something, anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze darted to a broken piece of stone lying nearby.

"Stay close," Kael murmured, his voice barely audible.

Before she could respond, the scarred man lunged, and chaos erupted.

Kael moved like a shadow, his knife flashing as he parried the man's attacks. Adira darted to the side, grabbing the stone and hurling it at one of the other men who rushed toward her. It struck him square in the chest, and he stumbled back with a grunt.

But more were coming. Too many.

"Kael!" she shouted, panic creeping into her voice.

He didn't respond, too focused on the fight in front of him. Adira's heart raced as she scanned the room for an escape.

And then she saw it—a narrow passage hidden behind one of the coffins.

"Over here!" she yelled, grabbing Kael's arm.

He hesitated for a split second, then slashed at his opponent one last time before following her.

They dove into the passage just as more men poured into the chamber, their shouts echoing off the walls.

The narrow corridor twisted and turned, the darkness pressing in around them. Adira's legs burned, her lungs screaming for air, but she didn't stop.

Finally, they burst out into the open air, the cold night hitting them like a slap.

Adira collapsed against a tree, her chest heaving. Kael leaned against a rock, his knife still clutched in his hand.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, their breaths mingling in the frigid air.

Then Kael broke the silence. "This isn't over."

Adira looked up, her eyes meeting his. "It never is."