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“I’m not telling you,” Gabe replies.

“Then I’ll kill you.”

Gabe swallows as his eyes glance at the camera in the room, and I see him.

My alpha.

His eyes flick ahead at the gunman. “Go ahead. I’ve got nothing to live for.”

I suck back a breath.

My hand slaps over my mouth as I hold back my scream.

I inhale and smell the scent I did earlier. It’s coating my hands. A buttery, but sweet, decadent pastry that I want to eat.

Gabe.

“What about the omega you killed for?”

I freeze as I listen.

He killed for me?

Or someone else?

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Gabe replies.

“I know it was you. And I know it’s her.”

“She isn’t my omega.” Gabe’s voice is scratchy, and he glances at the floor.

I am.

I smell Gabe.

He’s my alpha.

Though I know I’m miles away from letting him be mine. There are too many questions I need answers to.

And I need answers.

That man will not kill Gabe before I get them.

I look around the panic room, trying to gather my thoughts. My mind is racing with ideas of what to do next, and I remember Gabe showing me a gun.

My stomach churns.

I’m not sure what to do. I want to help Gabe, but I can’t when I’m trapped in this room. Which is frustrating considering I can shoot a gun.

My dad taught all my sisters and me from when we were young. I accept I’m not the sharpest shooter in the world, but I know I can aim with a steady hand.

I lift my hand and realize it’s shaking. “Fuck!”

I breathe in and out, focusing on calming my breathing. I have to chill out if I’m going to help my alpha.

But as I sit here, fear riddling my body, I know what I have to do.

I take a deep breath, stand up and stare at the gun for a moment before I grab it and slip it into my gown pocket. If the gunman sees me getting close, I don’t want him to pull the trigger on Gabe because of fear.