studio.
As he strolled down Main Street, trying to keep his pace leisurely, he reminded himself of all of that—that it was a beautiful evening, that he wouldn’t have anything to do at the studio except sit in Dee’s messy office and listen to Jack Henry play whatever song the omegas were dancing to over and over until he wanted to scream. It made much more sense to find a spot on a bench in the park and watch the sun make its slow descent, but his feet insisted he keep moving.
Something was pulling him. The bond. Elias probed at his chest. The bond was so vibrant today, so strong and real that it seemed like he should be able to feel it from the outside, but his fingers only found the cloth of his shirt and the skin of his chest beneath it. But tangible or not, the bond squirmed in him, urging him faster, sending icy fingers of dread through his spine. Something was wrong. Jack Henry needed him. He should go now.
Finally, he gave up arguing with it and started to run. Find Jack Henry. Protect him. He could almost hear Jasper’s voice barking orders, orders he had no choice but to obey. Protect the omega. He ran faster, the pull growing stronger as he got closer to the studio until he was full-out sprinting. His breath came hard as he tore down the street without caring about the curious looks he got from pedestrians moving at a more leisurely pace.
He skidded to a stop in front of the dance studio where a pair of omegas were trying to squint through the blinds. He brushed the omegas aside, not caring that he was rough, and reached for the door handle. It didn’t turn.
“Get help,” he ordered. “Jack Henry’s in trouble.”
As if in confirmation, a shriek pierced the air. Elias sprinted for the alley, fumbling with clawed hands through his pockets for the key to the back door. He had to stop and take a few breaths, to will his alpha down so he could handle the mundane, human task of unlocking the door and approach the situation coolly. He had the advantage of surprise and needed to use it. He slipped through the back door and tiptoed past Dee’s office to the curtain. Jack Henry wasn’t making any noise now, but he was out there. Elias could smell him. And also…
Lon.
Reining in his increased urgency, Elias twitched the curtain back to peer around it. It was Lon, all right, his mouth covering Jack Henry’s and his big paws holding the omega tightly against him. Jack Henry didn’t seem to be fighting, and Elias had a brief, sinking fear that Jack Henry wanted this—that he’d accepted Lon’s advances—before his saner human brain kicked in. Jack Henry loved them. And even if he didn’t, he hated Lon.
With less jealous eyes, Elias could see how limp Jack Henry was in Lon’s arms, as if he might not even be conscious. He wasn’t struggling, but he wasn’t participating either. Enduring, maybe. Thinking he didn’t have another option. But he did. Because Elias was here, and Elias would save him.
The question was how.
He retreated a few steps, even though his alpha was screaming at him to tear through the curtain and pounce on Lon’s back. To do it now, now, now. But that would only result in him being killed, and although he would willingly sacrifice himself in Jack Henry’s defense, it needed to actually be in Jack Henry’s defense, not just a futile gesture. On the other hand, he didn’t have time to formulate the perfect plan. Lon might be only moments away from doing something worse than what he was already doing.
Elias doubted he could defeat Lon, but he could buy time, distract Lon long enough for the omegas to return with help or for Jasper to come. Jasper must be sensing Jack Henry’s predicament over the bond because Elias could feel Jack Henry’s distress in stereo now. Waves of anguish echoed back and forth.
Jasper would come. Elias just needed to hold Lon off until then. He snatched up the cane Dee used to count time. It was a pole, about four feet long with a rubber tip on one end and a round wood head on the other. He held it in both hands as he slipped through the curtain, taking advantage of Lon’s focus on Jack Henry to get right behind him before cracking the cane over his head.
Lon