CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Fuck, that’s right,” Clayen said, casting quick glances over their shoulder up the lane toward the main house. “You don’t know his name. Zepish used to laugh about Sakish making all the omegas call him the Owner. Sakish is our older half-brother. He’s the result of one of those religious donations—” Clay’s nose wrinkled “—and that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that he’s here, and he wants you and the babies back; he said they’re his. And he’s got a copy of Tavish’s real record, showing he’s still a technically beta and not proven, so he can’t be your guardian either. But with you gone, he won’t go after Tav.”

Clayen ran a hand through already mussed hair. Mir had never seen it even remotely out of place before. “That poor bookworm hasn’t got any idea what he’s got himself into. You know what Sakish is capable of. Please, for Tav’s sake, get out of here. You know he’ll try to protect you.”

Through the open door, distant raised alpha voices rent the air, even though the main house was a ten-minute walk up the lane. Their mind flashed back to the frantic second when Kev attacked the guard in Hell so they could escape and save the babies. This was the same. Tavish was giving them time, sacrificing himself so the babies could live. They wouldn’t let their sacrifices be in vain.

“Horse?” Mir asked, lungs tight and mouth dry, as they half-jogged back to the yard where Telish’s stallion remained the only horse out of its stable. Like that last day in Hell, hesitation could be fatal, but this time, Mir was clear-headed.

“Can you ride like that?” Ramen indicated Mir’s belly.

“Get me on it, and I’ll ride it. Money?” Mir held out their hand to Clayen.

The red-haired beta dug in his pocket and pulled out a few coins. “It’s all I’ve got on me.” Clayen closed their eyes and let out a groan of frustration. “Tav is so going to owe me. You’ve got a spare room up at the farm, right? Because after this, I’m probably going to need it.”

“Sure,” Mir blurted, their eyes frantically searching over Clayen’s shoulder for pursuit. Their heart was pounding, but not jumping out of their chest. This time, they had clothes and a mount, and wasn’t drugged. Muscles tightened in readiness. Yes, they was running again, but when the babies were safe, Hell, and everyone in it, would burn in the fires that had named it.

“Flat C, Stoneleigh Terrace, in Malthus City. It’s about twenty miles, but I’m sure you can make it. I’ll meet you there when this calms down. The beta next door has a key. Tell him Raven sent you.”

Mir didn’t bother replying as they took the gold sovereigns and shoved them in their pocket.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Ramen asked. Mir’s heart warmed at the earnest offer, but the pretty beta didn’t need to be dragged into this. Anyone ending up in Hell because of them would be soul-destroying.

“No, you’ve risked enough by helping this much; that back of yours doesn’t need any more marks. But if you tell anyone where I’m going, you’ll get far worse from me.” Ramen might not believe Mir’s threat, but if anything happened to these babies, they fully intended to exact every ounce of deserved revenge if they remained free.

The chestnut stallion, probably the sire of Clayen’s carriage horses, tossed his head and snorted at the agitated people around it.

Mir reached for its bridle, missed as the animal flung its head up, but they caught the bridle on the second occasion.

“Hell, no, not that one. He’s Telish’s pride and joy. Hang on, I’ll get you something more suitable,” Ramen turned to the stable block.

“No time, just give me a boost.”

“He’s not saddled.”

“Boost, NOW.” Mir yelled. The thought of Sakish coming around the corner lent speed to limbs previously heavy with terror. Clayen linked his hands together and crouched next to the snorting horse. Ramen didn’t get it, but Clay certainly did.

Sakish would take them back and kill these babies just as he’d done all the others. Besides, Clayen was right, if Tavish didn’t know where Mir was, they’d leave him alone. He could go back to his life and find himself a more suitable omega. The idea of never seeing him again clenched their stomach, but running when in pain and distress was nothing new. Mir had done it when beaten, wounded, naked, and in heat, and they could damn well do it in these conditions.

Ramen and Clayen pushed Mir up onto the bare back of the prancing, skittish stallion. As soon as their butt and thighs contacted the velvet soft, hot hide, they felt the beast’s power become theirs.

Ramen unclipped the lead rope attaching the bridle to the wall as Mir gathered up the reins.

“Any other way out?” Mir called. The stallion half-reared, adrenaline spiked.

Ramen reached for the bridle. “I’ve got it,” Mir called. Leaning forward, they kept their balance, and as soon as his front hooves hit the ground again, they reined hard to the right, turning the horse in a tight circle. Rearing was impossible when a horse’s back feet were moving, but this horse wanted to run as much as Mir did.

Their expertise clearly impressed the groom as Ramen stopped trying to interfere, instead, they stood back and rattled off instructions.

“If you go through the south meadow, turn left at the blue cottage, then right at the sycamore, you can follow—”

“Just go out the front, turn right for the city,” Clayen called over Ramen’s complex directions.

In any other circumstances, Mir would take a little time with a new animal to get to know each other, but there was no time for nice. Mir put their heels to its flanks. The beast’s muscles clenched beneath them, and he catapulted into a gallop before Mir had time to get a real feel for his height and width. The stallion was far larger than the pony they’d ridden bareback at the farm, but that short experience gave Mir the confidence to do this. A horse was a horse, and Mir still possessed all the skills they’d learned as a proto-alpha.

As Mir came around the side of the house, barely keeping their seat because their center of gravity had changed so much, the stuff of nightmares met their eyes. A group of half a dozen alphas and the same number or betas were gathered on the gravel drive in front of the house, and they all turned toward Mir as one. Even at this distance, the collective furious alpha musk scalded through the scent of the horse. Fear attacked their limbs and mind, ripping away their proto-alpha determination, leaving only omega weakness in its wake.

“That’s my damn horse,” Telish cried out as he hung on to a thrashing Tavish.

The usually calm alpha, whom Mir thought they knew almost better than themselves, only had eyes for Zepish, who was being held back by his twin. Tavish’s face twisted as he snarled and growled, dark eyes wild and lips curled back against bright white flashing teeth. Whoever that was, right now, it wasn’t the Tav Mir knew, and every instinct told Mir to stay well away.

The piercing blue eyes of the dark-haired alpha who haunted Mir’s dreams met theirs. Mir’s heart and lungs seized, and awareness of anything apart from him vanished. He knows everything, has always known everything.And now he’s here to claim his prize. If they’d been on foot, Mir would probably be on the ground as level-nine fear crumpled their body. The horse slowed, unsure of the situation and wanting its rider to give direction.

A slight smile appeared on Sakish’s lips. “Hey, Four,” he called out. “Remember when I told you that you were mine?”

But Mir had never been his, not in their head. They’d fought, defied, and rebelled, at every opportunity, until their will was ground down to nothing. Even then, the kernel of what made Mir a fighter had remained, ready to reignite when needed. With their focus on the Owner, Mir almost failed to notice Daven running toward them from the junior beta house opposite the main house.

Battering down the surge of debilitating fear, Mir realized Sakish was trying to distract them. If Mir didn’t get a move on, Daven would be right in their path.

Most horses wouldn’t ignore their instincts and run people over if they could see them approaching. A swift side-step would end up with Mir in the dirt at Daven’s feet, and at this speed, that could break bones. Even if it didn’t, they would be at Sakish’s mercy again. More than anyone, Mir knew that fucker didn’t give a shit about anything apart from his damn project.

“Four, do what you’re damn well told for once. Get off that horse,” Sakish called out. “We need to get you and my offspring to a doctor—”

At the word ‘doctor’ the final strand of the spell snapped like an overstretched rubber band.

“Ha!” Mir yelled and drummed their heels against the stallion’s burnished flanks. The well-fed, highly-strung animal leaped forward, nearly unseating them. Mir could see a hansom cab, with the driver in their traditional position at the back and above the passenger compartment up ahead, just turning onto the main road at the end of the long driveway to the Grabar estate.

The speed whipped their hair back and stung their eyes. Cold wind chilled the sweat spots under their arms. They’d never been on a horse like this, but Mir didn’t have time to enjoy it. Holding on tightly with their thighs, Mir urged the beast to greater speed with voice, heels, and hands.

“Mir, go, I’ll find you!” Tavish’s voice rang out behind them, loaded with anxiety and alpha dominance, but the twisted expression on Zepish’s face—as he struggled against his twin—was more compelling. Mir’s fear communicated itself to the horse, who redoubled his efforts to catch the horse disappearing into the distance, muscles straining under them.

Mir reached the spot Daven was aiming for a fraction of a second before they did, and the horse barreled past the beta’s outstretched, grasping hand.

“No!” A voice shouted. Mir couldn’t tell which twin it came from.

Something punched Mir’s upper left arm at the instant a loud bang came from behind. They lurched to the side as alpha voices roared behind them. Mir knew they’d been hurt, but the thick adrenaline flooding their blood cloaked the pain.

The horse sped up, now running in panic rather than at Mir’s urging. Gritting their teeth, Mir righted themself and simply hung on, rather than trying to keep control.

Shouting continued behind, but stopping or slowing was not an option. At the end of the driveway, Mir leaned to the right, and the horse accepted the guidance. Trusting Clay after all this didn’t feel safe, but heading out into the local countryside would probably put Mir straight back into Grabar hands. And with at least three of the family involved, they had no doubt that would end badly no matter how much Tavish championed them.

Wind rushed past their ears, as the horse galloped on, but the bunched muscles were relaxing under them. Now that the immediate danger lay behind, adrenaline faded, and the pain in their arm screamed for attention. Holding the reins in one hand, Mir touched their injured arm. It stung, and they risked a glance down. Blood slicked their arm from mid-biceps. The pain was manageable, and it wasn’t squirting. No need to stop. A painful, heavy arm was the least of their worries; at least whatever had hit them hadn’t struck their belly or the horse.

Considering the implications of someone back there shooting at them, trying to injure or even kill, was something Mir pushed to the back of their mind. Get safe first, assess later.

Safety depended on caring for their mount. A frantic check showed the only blood on the animal’s shoulder came from Mir’s wound, and there had been only one bang. Hopefully, that meant a single shot, and Blaze hadn’t been hit. If their babies’ lives weren’t in danger, Mir would have stopped and gone over Blaze carefully. But a horse’s life, however magnificent he was, wasn’t worth the risk of their babies falling back into Sakish’s hands.

If he floundered, not only could Mir be thrown, but if he couldn’t be ridden, Mir would be a sitting duck on foot. The landscape around here was gently rolling farmland. Yes, hiding behind a wall or fence might work in the short term, but this area was populated, probably by a Grabar-affiliated, or at least Grabar favorable population.

Despite the situation, Mir couldn’t help admiring the stolen animal. He was truly the most magnificent horse they’d ever seen, let alone ridden. Cole was a handsome beast, but he resembled a cart horse in comparison to this stallion.

The question was, how fast were Telish Grabar’s other horses, and how quickly would the pursuit begin?

Mir had their fingers crossed that the head of the Grabar clan would want to sort out the mess on his literal doorstep first. Hopefully, battling sons, one he hadn’t known about, would take priority over a low-class runaway omega, even if they’d nicked his best horse. Despite the situation, they smiled. This had to be the most exciting guardian change ceremony any of them had ever attended. Was Natelle shrieking louder now than when Mir punched the stuck-up cow last night?

But they had to think about more than the mess they’d left behind. They had to decide what to do right now. The few coins in their pocket wouldn’t get them far, and their arm needed treatment. For a fucking gunshot wound. The limb hurt far more as the adrenaline wore off and they’d given up holding the rein with it. Leaving the arm to hang hurt less. And, on a practical note, the blood now dripped down Mir’s arm and onto their overalls near their knee, rather than onto the horse’s withers. The last thing Mir needed was for the horse’s bare back to become even more slick.

Sakish or Zepish. One of the pair had shot them, because Mir couldn’t imagine anyone else on the Grabar estate having a gun. Firearms were a sapien invention, and the only ones in Malthusia had to have been brought across the veil illegally, like the tracking devices they used in Hell.

How difficult were gunshot wounds to treat? Losing function didn’t matter right now, but getting an infection could affect the triplets. The wound needed to be examined, and the bullet removed if it was still in there. Even if it wasn’t, the wound required cleaning. But the thought of seeking out a random doctor provided a hit of fear almost at the level of seeing Zepish and Sakish.

Could they rely on Clayen or their neighbor? How many people knew about that address? And what were the odds of either Clayen or Ramen caving if ordered to reveal where Mir might be by the alpha they’d affiliated to? Mir imagined Telish standing over them. No, not a hope.

Their throat closed, eyes burning. The gut-punching fear of betrayal scorched the air from their compressed lungs.

Tavish, where the hell are you? Every other time Mir had been frightened or hurt since that day on the road, Tavish had been there to provide cool, calm, and collected assistance, care and humor. But that world was gone, just as much as Mir’s idyllic early childhood.

The person Mir needed, craved, remained at the Grabar estate and under the control of his powerful family. Things would be even worse if Clayen was right, and Tavish had fallen into musth. Tavish had certainly been experiencing something unusual earlier. Mir had no doubt that Telish wouldn’t let Tavish anywhere near a heavily pregnant omega in that state, and there were more than enough alphas to restrain him. Alphas in musth weren’t considered responsible for their actions. Most were locked up and provided with the means to settle them.

The horse shook its head, snorting. Mir let up on the death grip they’d had on its flanks at the thought of Tavish strapped down with a proving house omega bouncing on his cock. But he’d enjoy it, just like I craved the knots of all those alphas. The thought made their legs clamp down on Blaze’s flanks before Mir consciously relaxed, trying to work with the horse rather than making its life more difficult.

Mir knew very little about musth. If some of the alphas in Hell had been in musth, Mir had never noticed, but maybe that was why some had been more brutal than others. When they’d been a pup, some of the other swaggering proto-alphas had claimed they could feel it ‘itching’ just as they claimed to know they’d grow balls.

Musth was a hormonal condition caused by healthy alphas not mating, or at least that’s what Mir had gathered from gossip. Alphas without a regular omega, or one whose omega couldn’t accept them, kept themselves in check by visiting proving houses or using betas. Tavish hadn’t mated despite being around an omega for the last five months.

The horse snorted again. “Sorry, sorry.” Forgetting about their arm, Mir automatically reached to give a reassuring pat to the beast’s neck. A hiss burst out as pain spiked. They let it hang again, trying not to notice the growing dark stain on their leg. How long before blood loss began to affect the babies or Mir’s balance? If they fell, even if the bullet didn’t hit anything vital, the shooter’s job would be done. The road stretching ahead looked longer with every passing minute, and… Mir squinted. That has to be a heat haze ahead rather than my eyesight beginning to go fuzzy.

Mir risked their balance by glancing over their shoulder. There was no sign of pursuit, but that didn’t mean much. Spotting an old beta plowing in a field up ahead, Mir sat more upright, signaling to the horse that he could slow. With the sound of pounding hooves quieting a little, relief almost swamped Mir as they couldn’t hear anyone closing in.

Making sure the horse’s head pointed directly at the farmworker, to hide their belly, Mir plastered on a polite smile. “Excuse me, can you tell me the way to Malthus City?”

The gray-haired beta pulled their team of big brown horses to a halt with a “Whoa lads,” and then looked over. Their initial polite expression morphed into a frown. Butterflies fluttered in Mir’s belly. Stopping might not have been such a good idea after all.

“That’s Telish Grabar’s horse. What are you doing with him? Who are you?”

Their arm throbbed in agreement at Mir’s idiocy. Of course anyone around here would recognize the damn horse.

“You have a good eye for horses.” Mir nodded at the plow horses. “I can see that from your team. Suffolk Punches, right?” Mir patted Blaze’s neck with their good arm. “As for this one, I’ve just collected him for his new owner, but I want to check I’m going the right way. Malthus City?”

“If you carry on down this road, there are signposts.” The old beta pointed ahead, but Blaze took Mir’s lean in that direction as a command to take a step in that way. The beta’s eyes narrowed as their gaze flicked between Mir’s arm and belly and they started walking purposefully across the field toward Mir.

“Here, Miss, get down from there before you fall. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t let you go riding off on a stolen horse in that condition. Telish Grabar wouldn’t let an omega ride a stallion, let alone a wounded pregnant one.”

Yep, I’m as stupid as ever.Mir should never have stopped, but this beta would have reported seeing them anyway, although they regretted mentioning Malthus City.

Mir gave the beta a grin because giving them the finger would hurt too damn much.

“You’re welcome to join in the chase with the Grabars. I reckon about ten of them, including Telish and both his twin alphas sons, will come thundering through here in about five minutes. Tell them I said hi, or you might want to run too. They all want a piece of me, and when they find out you could have stopped me and didn’t, they might settle for mangling you for a while instead. Bye!” Mir put their heels to the horse, pushing it into a rocking canter, and left the beta hurrying back to his pair of draft horses.

Despite the stallion’s smooth canter, the forward and back motion made their belly bounce. The gallop was more comfortable, but it wasn’t sustainable, and a trot would be a slow, jarring nightmare if Mir could even keep their seat.

A fork in the road in another eight or so miles made Mir pull up so they could squint at it. Their arm throbbed, and a headache—that had to be caused by the sun rather than blood loss—set up home behind Mir’s eyes.

The signpost reading Malthus City, 12 miles, pointed east. The other side stated, Farnford, 3 miles.

The horse wore a sheen of sweat that was making it slippery and Mir’s backside, and probably Blaze’s back, was suffering from the lack of a saddle. They both needed a drink, and the midday sun beat down at if it had a personal vendetta against them. Blood still dripped sluggishly from their fingers, but the arm was next to useless. A fly landed on the glistening hole in their shirt, and the ground appeared to pulsate. Screwing up their eyes, they opened them again. To their relief, the ground had stopped moving on its own. For now.

If they did come across a water source, getting off the horse without getting more injuries would be tricky, and getting back on would be impossible. Wherever Mir got off, they would be staying there.

I’m not going to make it to Malthus City.

The conclusion wandered around Mir’s head for a while before coming to rest as a solid fact. Besides, if either Clayen or Ramen blabbed, the Grabars, including Sakish and Zapish, would arrive soon after, if they didn’t find Mir lying on the side of the road, having passed out and fallen off.

Farnford sounded like a friendly sort of town. The kind of town that would take in a pregnant runaway omega who had stolen a horse and protect them from the horse’s owner and their legal guardian. Mir snorted at the ridiculous fantasy. They was stupid, but not that stupid. Something niggled, and Mir concentrated, trying to catch the fleeting thought.

Legal guardian. Mir’s mind stuck on the phrase, and they couldn’t work out why for a moment. Sakish had arrived with Tavish’s real details. They knew he wasn’t a proven alpha, which meant he couldn’t be Mir’s legal guardian. Sluggish and wincing against the bright sunlight, they tried to work out what Telish would do with the new information. It would definitely be the Grabar Prime Alpha deciding Mir’s fate if the Grabars caught up, and they would, sooner or later.

Trying to force their mind to work was like wading through treacle, and Mir felt exactly what betas and alphas claimed all omegas were, stupid. But maybe that was why Mir had survived when others hadn’t. They was simply too damn stupid, or stubborn, to give up.

Sakish and/or Zepish would no doubt claim to be the sire, or sires, of the triplets, and the sire’s rights trumped that of the omega… but with no mating certificate, that could only be established after the babies were born and their DNA got tested. If the Grabars caught up, Mir bet they’d end up in some locked room in the Grabar mansion until the babies arrived, and if they ended up being Telish Grabar’s grandpups that would be the last Mir would see of them.

But if Mir was with their legal guardian, Corish, and they could prove abuse, even if Sakish or Zepish were the sires, Mir might still get to keep the babies. Corish would give Mir time. But how the hell could they reach their little sib before the Grabars caught up?

The solution was blindingly obvious. Mir was an official missing person. All they had to do was find a police officer.

With their eyesight blackening at the edges, Mir squinted down the road behind them. Fuzzy shapes were in the distance. They couldn’t remember if those shapes had been there when they first stopped. They could be bushes, a farm cart, or loads of other things. They could also be the alphas from Hell coming to take their babies.

Turning the horse toward Farnford, Mir kicked it into a canter.

A rickety farm cart trundled in the middle of the road ahead, and Mir guided the horse around it awkwardly. With their arm useless, they had to cross their good hand over their belly and reach farther up on the other rein to guide it to the right.

“Here, are you alright?” The beta driver called out. “Where’s your alpha?”

“Sorry, can’t stop. Got to get to the police station. Is it this way?”

“I think you need a doctor more, come on I’ll—” But Mir was past them.

Yellow and white stone buildings blurred past, but Mir couldn’t summon the energy to pick out any details. The houses didn’t matter, they needed directions, nothing more. They let the horse slow and called out to bewildered residents.

After a few polite requests for directions only elicited useless concern and offers of help, Mir began to shout, “Police house” before the citizens had a chance to realize what they were seeing. At least the shouts were met with either gaping mouths or pointed fingers.

They clattered into the main town square, the horse finally breathing hard and tired. Two blue-uniformed betas sprinted toward them through the promenading public. A few omegas squealed and gathered children around them, and their alphas moved in front of them protectively.

Yeah, I’m so bloody dangerous. Relief at reaching their goal coincided with an increased wave of dizziness. The next thing Mir knew they was being pulled from the horse and laid on the ground.

The blackness that had been threatening to steal their senses receded, and Mir blinked up at a stern beta face. “And who might you be, Miss? What are you doing with Telish Grabar’s prize stallion and a gunshot wound in your arm?”

Mir blinked, trying to keep conscious. “I erm… yeah.” Mir huffed in amusement, although there was nothing remotely amusing about this. “Been a bit of a shitty day. Shitty life too.”

“Jones, run for the doctor,” the officer on his knees beside Mir called.

“Don’t worry, there’ll be one here in a few minutes,” Mir murmured as the world started to go black.

Their shoulders shook, and Mir opened eyes they didn’t remember closing. “Don’t you go passing out on me, not until you’ve answered some questions. Who are you?”

Holding back the blackness wasn’t easy, but if Mir didn’t stay awake for a few more moments, the Grabars would reclaim them along with their horse.

“Don’t let them take me. Whatever they say, don’t let them take me back.” It dawned on them that they’d need to give more of a reason than that. “I’m Mir…Mirelle Reeve. My brother,” was as far as they got before the beta’s eyes widened.

“You’re Corish Reeve’s sister? He…” was as much as Mir heard before the world spun even faster and the blackness closed in.