“Diana.”
Diana.
My body reacts as if she’s in the room again. A full-bodied,possessive heat surges through my veins in an overwhelming manner. My instincts are responding to her like they have no choice but to be called forward. Thethoughtof any other alpha approaching Diana is enough to fill my body with rancor. Andfear.
Oh, I despise that fucking emotion.
“Bring me her clothes from wherever she was staying,” I demand, needing to confirm it. “Theusedones.” I need to smell any hint of her deeper scent, because ifthat’strue…fuck. I didn’t expectthisto happen.
“What is it?” Beasts asks with that voice filtered through metal.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. My pulse pounds in my neck. “I think she’s a scent match.Myscent match.”
He looks at the door like he already knows what that means. He may not say much, but even he appreciates the rarity of this. “Where is Skinner?” I ask.
“He went after her already. Tire tracks show she went south.”
“Tire?” My lips curl into something feral. “Shedrove?”
“She did.”
I almost laugh—a real, genuine grin tearing through my face—because that kind of reckless survivalism? That’smine. And then the grin dies, because she’s alone, unbonded, and headed toward territory Dominion doesn’t control.
Toward fucking Titan.
Oh, he’d mate her to himself if he knew she wasmine.
“Get me some torchwater.”
With a low dip of his head, Beast exits the room like a hulking shadow. Alone with my mind, I grab the lower half of my face and pull hard, my exhale filtering through my fingers that scrape against my stubble. I focus on nothing because until I know for certain, I cannot allow these emotions to run amok. Beast’s return helps me prioritize Dominion, even for this moment. I need to heal, demand allegiance from this place, fetchDiana, and get the fuck back north so the Enclave can belong tousduring this winter.
Beast places the black canvas bag on the chair Diana recently sat in, then pulls out a few glowing yellow vials. He hands me two, and I take the encapsulated liquid. The nurse returns just as I press one of the vials to my lips, carrying a large shirt like it’s a shield. She gasps when she sees me. “Are youdrinkingthat? Please, that’s toxic.”
“To you, it is.” I down the other, the glow reflecting on my rings. It burns like fire and metallic lightning. “You don’t treat echoes often, do you?”
“What? No—what does that have to do with anything?”
“We usually don’t need healing as long as we have torchwater.”
I was bred into this world in the blight, then plucked away before my body got dependent on the torchwater, unlike Beast, who lived there until he was a child. It seems to have a different effect on me, healing my body rather than being dependent on it.
“Get everything ready. We leave in two hours. Get your eagle on her.”
“Already flying,” he responds, leaving the room.
The nurse hands me the shirt with wide eyes, as if she can’t get away fast enough. The room is empty except for me and this fabric. I stand, muscles straining but knitting back together under the heat of the chemical surge. The water is a precious source for my kind. It needs the wells it springs from to maintain its efficacy, but we obtain ours from the Black Mirage. If there’s anything in this world that makes me think magic exists, it’s on that fucking contraption of a city.
It crosses my mind that Titan could send Diana there to strip her of her omega identity, just to spite me.
I hold the fabric in my hand, already smelling traces of it. It’s still laced with chemicals, butherscent is stronger. Bringing itto my nose, the hair all along my arms raises, my eyes widening. Powerful, damning sensations flood me. The need to protect Diana builds with incredible momentum. I breathe it in more, memorizing the scent.Needingto drink her in without any suppressants.
My blood runs hot knowing that she’s out there, completely unmarked ineveryway. She doesn’t even smell of me, and that’s utterly fucking unacceptable.
I’ll figure out what to do with her after I catch her, but there’s no question about whether she’s coming back to Dominion. At some point, the redhead named Maggie stumbles in, guilt splattered across her face. “Sir, I amsosorry about all of this,” she forces out.
I barely look at her, noticing a few strands of blonde hair on the shirt in my hands. “Are you?”
When I glance over, I see she’s taking in my wounds, furrowing her brows. “You’re healing.”
