The city was dirty and crowded, betas behind vendors selling an assortment of goods on the streets. In fact, most of the people out seemed to be betas. On occasion an Alpha would walk past, commanding attention.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet.

Not until, that is, an Alpha walked past with an omega at his heels.

Disgust surged up from her stomach at the sight—the omega, clad in jewels and gold that did little to cover their body, had a look in his eyes that she'd seen before. A look she'd seen many times during a hunt.

It was the look of a dying animal—defeated and in pain.

The most horrific part of the image were the bruises and scrapes that littered the omega's body. Clearly he had been beaten, and on different occasions judging by the variations in color. And the Alpha had the nerve to

walk ahead of him so smugly.

"Makes me sick," Bakugou muttered, so quietly she almost missed it. Ochako nodded, trying her best to push down her shock and disgust so as to stay focused.

There was a large part of her that wanted so badly to run up to the Alpha and kick him

where it would hurt the most, and hold the omega under her nurturing arm and run for it. Her hands clenched at the urge, a growl rumbling in her chest.

"Don't," Bakugou warned as she began to step away from him, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her back.

"He needs help," she growled.

"We can't help 'em when it's us against this entire city," he growled back, letting go of her when she stopped trying to squirm out of his hold. "We'll have to find a different way."