Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

HEL

T he realization that I'm on Nightmare Island feels like a punch to the face. Fear floods my system, but with it comes a surge of adrenaline. I have to run, hide, escape. Hell, I'd rather take my chances with the sharks than these Alphas. I know they're Alphas because only crazy strong ones would survive a monstrous island like this.

I duck under a low-hanging branch, the leaves slapping against my face. As I frantically stare back, the man's arm is swinging out toward me, grasping at air as I dart just out of reach. My heart scales up to my throat, and I somehow escape his clutches.

"Where are you going, little Omega?" His words drip with false concern. "You must be so scared. I can make it all better."

"Yeah, sure you will," I remark, though my words are stolen by the howling storm.

I sprint across the open land leading up to the mountain, my boots splashing in the muddy ground, and plunge deeper into the woods, hoping the dense foliage nearby will give me cover. Except, it's dark and I can barley see anything, so I'm going slower, reaching out for the trees to guide me.

The rain intensifies. Lightning cracks across the sky, illuminating the forest in stark flashes. I've always been this way—the weather reflects my emotions. If only I could control it, summon it at will, but it's as unpredictable as my life has been.

Mom's words about my ability echo in my head. Don't tell a soul, or it'll get you killed. She drilled into me the dangers of being an Omega with such power. You won't be a wife , she'd warned. You'll be an experiment.

Another burst of lightning, another crash of thunder, and I use those spurts of light to see where I'm going.

Yeah, Mom. Message received. Secret's safe, but a fat lot of good it's doing me now.

My heart thunders in my chest. The man's calls behind me don't relent, but there's something in his tone that turns my stomach. He's enjoying this, taking his time, savoring the chase. It's too familiar, too much like?—

No. Don't think about him. Don't think about Jarl.

A hand suddenly snags my hair, yanking me back. I cry out, my feet skidding on the muddy ground. Water streams down my face as he spins me around, pinning me against a tree with his body while still holding the flaming torch. All while I'm pushing my hands against his chest, but he's moving. His flame is burning hot so close to me. And the bark's digging into my back, but it's nothing compared to the revulsion I feel at his touch.

"Now, where did you come from?" He laughs in my face, a sound that sets my teeth on edge. "Did you ride in on this storm that came out of the blue?"

If only he knew how close to the truth he was.

"Get your hands off me." I spit the words, pushing against him.

His grip tightens on my hair, unmoved by my outburst. He's grinning, and I hate the way he smiles. His eyes are strange, almost glassy, as if they're not quite real. He stares at me like he's trying to read my soul. Fresh scratches mar his shoulders and arms, evidence of recent fights.

"You'll come with me," he commands like he owns me.

"Fuck you," I snap back.

"Such a mouth on you." He clicks his tongue, pressing closer. "We'll have to do something about that."

Fury climbs up my spine, hot and familiar. I feel myself slipping into that headspace, the one I visited so often with Jarl—where emotions shut down, replaced by dark fantasies of revenge. The weight of the blade at my hip, stolen and hidden before boarding the plane, is a lifeline.

I soften my expression, forcing a smile. "You're right. I'm sorry. This is all just so… overwhelming."

His gaze lights up. Predators always love when their prey stops fighting.

"You're such a beautiful creature," he purrs. "Men are going to fight to the death to get a chance to fuck you, you know that?"

I bat my eyes, channeling every submissive Omega stereotype I can think of. "And you'll protect me?"

One of his hands is still tangled in my hair, but his hold loosens slightly as he preens at my apparent submission.

"Of course, little one. I'll keep you safe." His grin widens, showing too many teeth. "Now, why don't you tell me how you got here?"

"Oh!" I let my gaze go wide, as if struck by a sudden thought. "I almost forgot. I have something that might help explain everything."

His curiosity piqued, he leans in closer. Perfect.

In one fluid motion, I draw the blade from its hiding place. My brother's words ring in my ears. Our ancestors, the Vikings, never backed down. They were never afraid.

I lift my hand to strike.

The Alpha's face whitens, his gaze locking on to the blade. Fuck!

Rapidly, my arm arcs forward, the blade glinting in his flame. He jerks backward, dropping his flame while releasing me slightly, and my intended killing blow swings at him wide. Instead of his throat, the blade rips across his broad chest, opening a long, angry gash from collarbone to sternum.

For a heartbeat, there's silence. Then a guttural growl rumbles from deep in his chest, his eyes glinting dangerously. Blood wells up from the cut, stark red against his tanned skin, mixing with the rain.

"You whore!" he snarls, his hand darting out faster than I can react. The back of his hand connects with my face with a hard crack. Pain explodes across my cheek and nose, bright spots dancing in my vision. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and I feel a warm trickle running down my upper lip.

I stagger back, my free hand instinctively going to my face. When I pull it away, my fingers are smeared with red. My nose and cheek throb, a sharp, insistent pain that makes my eyes water, but I blink back the tears, refusing to show weakness.

My insides are trembling, but I don't back down. I won't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I straighten, meeting his gaze defiantly. I can feel my nose swelling, but I ignore the pain. I've endured worse. I'll endure this, too.

"Is that all you've got?" I spit, along with a mouthful of blood.

He lunges for my hand, his meaty fingers grasping for my blade. I twist away, but his hand clamps around my wrist like an iron vise, squeezing until I fear my bones might snap.

I gasp at his aggression while tugging my arm against his hold. His blood smears across my skin, hot and slick.

The storm escalates around us, trees and the wind thrashing wildly.

With a roar of effort, he slams my arm against the tree trunk.

I scream out as fire-hot pain bursts through my wrist and hand. The blade slips from my numb fingers, dropping away into the underbrush. His grip on me loosens, just for a moment, as he glances at his wounded chest, at so much blood. It's all the opening I need.

I drive my knee upward, catching him right between the legs. He wheezes, doubling over, and I seize my chance. I shove him with all my might, sending him staggering backward.

My feet barely touch the ground as I dash deeper into the forest. The storm rages around me, my heart racing just as fast, wishing I still had my knife.

I don't know where I'm going, but anywhere is better than here.

The Alpha's enraged roars fade behind me, but I don't slow down. I can't. On Nightmare Island, stopping means death… or worse.

Rain lashes at my face, the wind whipping through the trees with a banshee's wail. Every sense is on high alert. The metallic tang of blood—his and mine—mingles with the earthy scent of wet soil and the storm.

It's overwhelming, and my wolf's pressing against my insides for release, to fight this monster, but stopping to transform leaves me vulnerable. I scramble over fallen logs and duck under low branches.

A snap of lightning illuminates a steep slope ahead. Without breaking stride, I half run, half slide down it, using the slick mud to my advantage. It's reckless and dangerous—one wrong move and I could break my neck—but the alternative is worse.

At the bottom, I pause for a split second, straining to hear over the storm. Nothing. No sound of pursuit. But that doesn't mean I'm safe.

I press on, my drenched clothes clinging to me like a second skin.

As I run, a hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. Of all the places in the world to crash-land, I end up on an island full of exiled Alphas. It's like the universe looked at my life and thought, You know what this girl needs? More violent men with control issues!

However, I'm not the same scared girl I was when Jarl first claimed me. I've endured four years of hell, and I'm still standing.

The forest grows denser, the trees pressing in close. I slow my pace, forced to pick my way more carefully. My lungs burn, my legs tremble with exertion, but I push on. Somewhere in this green hell, there has to be a safe place. A cave, a hollow tree, anything.

As I move, my mind races. How many Alphas are on this island? Are there any other Omegas? Is there any way off this rock, or am I trapped here forever?

One problem at a time, Hel. First, survive. Then, escape.

A distant howl cuts through the storm's roar, sending fresh adrenaline coursing through my veins. He's not giving up. Of course he's not. Fucking Alpha. To him, I'm fresh meat in a world where Omegas are scarce.

I burst out of the woods, and I can see a bit clearer now in the night. My lungs scream with each ragged breath. The clearing before me lifts upward even more, and there, in the distance, I notice what looks like cave openings in the mountainside.

I scramble up the incline, my feet slipping on the wet grass. A snarl rips through the air behind me, and I twist my head to look back.

Oh, fuck me sideways.

The Alpha is hot on my heels, blood still oozing from the gash across his chest. His eyes are wild, feral, promising a world of pain if he catches me. Which, given how fast he's gaining, seems increasingly likely.

"Come here, you little bitch!" he roars. "I'm going to teach you what happens to Omegas who don't know how to behave."

"Sorry," I yell back, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounds. "I left my Submissive Omega rule book on the plane. You'll have to reschedule the lesson!"

I push harder, my legs aching. Just a little further. Just a little?—

Movement catches my eye, and I nearly trip over my own twisted grass roots.

There's another male with a flaming torch, farther up the mountain, heading in my direction. But something's… off about him. I squint, trying to make out details through the rain.

Is that… is that a skull?

I'm sure I'm looking at a walking corpse, a body built with muscles, powerful and bulging, yet his head is a skull. I blink hard, certain I must be hallucinating. When I look again, I see it's just a man.

I pause, panic clawing at my throat. The Alpha behind me, Skull-face in front—caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

"Nowhere to run now, sweetheart," the Alpha jeers, closing in. "Why don't you be a good little Omega and come here to me? I promise to keep you safe from him."

Skull-face says nothing, but his silent approach is somehow even more terrifying.

My heart pounds so fast that I'm surprised it hasn't burst out past my rib cage.

The rain is coming down fast and hard.

My head is racing. I'm tired, I'm scared, and I'm so fucking done with constantly running.

Something snaps inside me. A dam breaks, and suddenly, I'm not just afraid—I'm furious.

"You want me?" I scream, my voice raw with emotion. "Then come and fucking get me!"

Mirroring my scream, the sky lights up. For a split second, the world is bathed in brilliant white. Then comes the boom, so loud I feel it in my bones, feel it in the shaking ground beneath me.

The lightning strikes.

It hits the Alpha square in the chest, right where I cut him.

I'm frozen, stunned.

He's outlined in crackling blue-white energy. His mouth opens in a silent scream, his body rigid and shaking. Then he drops, hitting the ground. He twitches and convulses, smoke rising from his singed clothes and hair.

I stare, slack-jawed. Did I do that? Did I actually call down lightning?

"Holy shit," I breathe. "Thanks for the assist, Thor."

There's no time to celebrate. Skull-face is still coming, his pace quickening now that my other pursuer is down for the count.

I spin away, ready to make a break for the caves, but exhaustion and fear have taken their toll. My foot catches on a rock, and suddenly, the world is tilting, and I'm falling, tumbling down the slope. Pain explodes through my skull as it connects with something hard—a rock, a root, who knows? The world spins, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.

No. No, I can't pass out. Not here. Not now.

I try to push myself up, but my arms feel like they're made of stone.

The heavy darkness is closing in fast. The last thing I see is that skull-like face peering down at me.

Is this it? Is this how I go out? Concussed on a mountain, at the mercy of whatever nightmare Skull-face has in mind?

I come to slowly, awareness returning in bits and pieces. Damn smells. A croaking bird somewhere in the distance. Then the pain—my head feels like it's been used as a ball. That's when I notice that I'm no longer being rained on.

I crack one eye open, then immediately shut it again as the dim light sends daggers through my skull.

Okay, Hel. Take it slow.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out .

I try again, this time managing to keep my eyes open long enough to take in my surroundings. I'm in… a cave? The rough stone walls are illuminated by flickering firelight, casting dancing shadows that do nothing to calm my nerves.

I'm lying on something soft. Animal furs, maybe? The thought makes my stomach turn. I try to sit up, but dizziness forces me back down.

A grunt from somewhere to my left startles me. I turn my head, wincing at the pain, and freeze. There, crouched by the fire, is a figure that makes my blood run cold. It's him—the skull-faced man. Only now I can see it's not his actual face, but a mask. A very realistic, very terrifying one that covers his entire face, leaving only his eyes visible, which, from my position, are impossible to see.

"W-where…" I try to speak, but my throat is parched, the words coming out as a rasp.

He doesn't move, doesn't offer help. Just keeps staring.

I swallow hard and try again. "Where am I?"

For a long moment, I think he's not going to answer, but then he says, "Safe."

His voice is low, heavy, muffled slightly by the mask. It's not comforting. If anything, it sends a shiver down my spine.

I attempt to push myself up again, desperate not to be lying prone in front of this stranger. The cave spins, and I have to close my eyes to fight off a wave of nausea.

When I open them again, he's moved closer. I flinch involuntarily.

He stops, tilting his head slightly. The firelight catches on the contours of his mask, making the skull seem to grin. "Rest," he states, the word more command than suggestion.

I want to argue, to demand answers, but my body seems to have other ideas. The cave is starting to fade around the edges, and keeping my eyes open is becoming a monstrous task.

As I slip back into unconsciousness, the last thing I see is that skull mask. I can't tell if I'm looking at my savior or my doom.

Knowing my luck, probably both.