Fucking lovely. The other massive gangs—Grim’s Reapers, Bayou’s Maw—are finally molding into something permanent, like a massive tree overgrowing the rest and choking out the sunlight.
Which is whywe’rehere, because if we have to live under an amalgamation, it’ll be undermyfucking reign. That’s something I’m even willing to die for. I’ll never bow to another alpha again.
It’s why we do what we do. Omegas drive it all—whoevercan have the most mated pairs will have the strongest society, and therearemore omegas out there. Hidden. Drugged. Masked. Broken down into something less than themselves.
Once we solidify New Bunker, we’ll move outward and continue claiming terrain until the snow locks us down, and when it all melts, we will have control over the trade routes here. Offer bounties—realones—for any omega sighting.
Then remove the alpha that rules over the Bayou’s Maw.
Skinner looks up at the bodies, pointing with his forefinger. “So what happened here?”
“Got cocky,” I say, still lost in thought.
Skinner rises from his seat with a grunt, strutting over to the one still twitching at the end of the rope. Skinner draws his dagger, the curved one with the black blade, and pokes the man in the side as blood blooms through his shirt. The guy jerks to let out a strangled whimper. “Too much of a pussy to kick this out?” Skinner wobbles the box the hanged man stands on. The man lets out a raspy, miserable attempt at a scream.
Skinner’s not wrong—it’s the dead man’s own fault for suffering needlessly.
The brunette beta from earlier approaches again with Skinner occupied. She even kneels down on one knee. “If you need some company later,sir, I’m available,” she quickly offers, as if passing a note. “It was a long ride getting here. Might need to warm your bed later.”
“You’realwaysavailable,” I say without inflection. “It’s your role.”
She stiffens for a moment, but she is admittedly good at recovering. “Then let me do it.”
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Andrea.”
“I understand you’re desperate to choke on my cock, Andrea, but don’t approach me again,” I lazily say, rolling my gaze at heras she averts hers almost instinctively. “If I want to fuck you, I’ll let you know.”
There’s a tremble behind her eyes, something caught between hope and shame. She almost protests. One wrong word, and I’ve got others that ensure the road dolls are kept in place. I glance down at the tattoo on her neck, one of a skull without the jaw;someonevetted her and thought her safe enough to bring into our inner circle.
Her departure instills that whatever the fuck is wrong with our world is still alive. Violence and destruction have bred an entirely new set of humans that only answer to an equal force. Taming that side will take time and precision.
Society needsorderto thrive.
I watch her as she goes back to her group, a popular male road doll taking her hand and speaking gently to her as he guides her over to Razor, one of the few female alphas in my ranks. She and Mauler always fight over the rarestmaleomega, if we ever find one.
Little Miss Andrea needs to learn that when I’m in the middle of my duty as the leader here, I get left alone unless it’s for business.
Only omegas ever get to interrupt an alpha to such a degree.
After I grind my teeth once more to feel evenmorefucking dirt in there, I stand, stretching my neck as my eyes sweep the exposed square while Skinner returns to his seat. This territory belongs to Dominion now.
Tome.
Hozier’s shop still sits crooked across the lot, and I make my way over. When I enter, the air is thick with the sour tinge of old medicine and smoke. The few seeking business inside drop what they’re here for to give me space. That’s theproperresponse. The old woman behind the counter lowers her head, voice already submissive. “Sir.”
“Who was in here earlier?” I ask. I still think back to the women on those stairs. Something about them caught my eye, like they weren’t supposed to be here. Probably in the way their eyes lacked a certain depth that living here forges.
“Two women. Trying to look like they belonged. Although I’m guessing you caught onto that or wouldn’t be asking.”
“What did they want?”
“Suppressants.”
Of course. Only two kinds of people buy those—omegas trying to disappear, or handlers helping them do it.
“What was their height?” I ask.
