Tomorrow, that waiting ended. Tomorrow, Leo would discover that his father’s death had delivered him into the hands of alphas who intended to own him completely.
And if the boy thought his cottage had been a prison, he was about to learn what captivity really meant.
One and a Half Years Prior
Darkness wrapped around the cottage like a predator’s embrace. Stefano crouched at the forest’s edge, every muscle tense as he watched Leo through the binoculars. His body had been primed for this moment for months—the hunt, the chase, the capture.
Leo moved through the kitchen with purpose, moonlight casting his ash-blond hair silver through the window. Dark jeans. Practical boots. The small backpack waiting by the door held everything the boy had managed to squirrel away over weeks of careful planning.
“He’s moving,” Marco murmured, the hunger in his voice unmistakable even through his tactical mask.
Stefano’s jaw ticked. The waiting was always the worst part—watching Leo test boundaries, memorize patrol schedules, hoard supplies with the meticulous patience that made him so much more valuable than a typical omega. Intelligence combined with beauty was a dangerous, intoxicating combination.
When Leo reached the fence and began scaling it, something primitive broke loose in Stefano’s chest. His pulse hammered against his ribs as he tapped his comm. “Release the dogs.”
The moment Leo’s boots touched forest ground, German shepherds exploded from concealment. Their deep-throated barks shattered the night silence, driving the prey exactly where Stefano wanted him.
And then it hit him—winter jasmine in the night air.
The scent slammed into Stefano with physical force, bypassing conscious thought and shooting straight to the primitive brain stem where instinct lived. His vision sharpened, blood rushing south so fast he felt lightheaded. A year of surveillance reports hadn’t prepared him for the raw potency of Leo’s omega scent, his stress and fear amplifying his natural fragrance to something that made Stefano’s mouth water.
“Move,” he growled, already surging forward.
His boots pounded forest floor as he pursued that blazing scent trail. Through gaps in the trees, he caught glimpses of pale hair catching moonlight as Leo ran. The boy was fast—faster than expected—cutting through undergrowth with the precision of someone who’d spent years studying his cage.
Ahead, Leo’s backpack snagged on a jagged branch as he ducked under a fallen tree. The momentum ripped it from his shoulders, spilling survival supplies across the forest floor. The boy hesitated for a precious second before abandoning everything and bolting deeper into the trees.
“Matteo. Backpack, northeast quadrant,” Stefano barked into his comm, never breaking stride.
His lungs burned as he closed the distance, that winter jasmine scent growing stronger with every step. Leo burst through a clearing twenty yards ahead, amber eyes widening as he spotted the logging road that represented freedom. So close the boy could taste it.
Something dark and possessive exploded in Stefano’s chest. The thought of Leo reaching that road—believing even for a moment he could escape what was coming—was unacceptable.
His hand shot out, fingers spanning Leo’s narrow waist as he hauled the boy back against his chest. The contact sent electricity racing across Stefano’s skin; he could feel every inch of Leo’s slender frame pressed against him—the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the heat radiating through his clothes, the perfect way his smaller body fit against Stefano’s larger one.
Momentum carried them both forward. Stefano twisted as they fell, taking the brunt of impact as they crashed into the shallow ditch beside the road. For one perfect moment, he had Leo pinned beneath him, that incredible scent flooding his senses while the boy trembled with shock and fury.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” Leo snarled, immediately struggling against the arms wrapped around him.
The fire in those amber eyes made Stefano’s cock throb against his tactical pants. No cowering, no begging—just magnificent rage that made him want to sink his teeth into that elegant throat until Leo understood exactly whom he belonged to.
“Easy,” Stefano growled, his voice rough through the tactical mask. “End of the line, kid.”
“Kid?” Leo’s laugh cut like broken glass. “If I’m a kid, that makes you pedophiles with military fetishes. Freud would have a field day with your psychological profiles.”
Marco materialized from shadows, his tactical gear making him look like death incarnate. “Big words from someone face down in the dirt.”
“Even bigger words from someone who just got tackled by hired muscle,” Matteo added, Leo’s recovered backpack dangling from one hand—a silent reminder of how thoroughly they’d anticipated his every move.
Leo’s eyes darted between the three figures surrounding him, calculating odds with impressive speed before his gaze settled back on Stefano with laser focus. Even terrified and outgunned, the boy refused to show weakness.
“So which one of you jackasses is going to explain why you just assaulted someone for taking a late-night walk?” Leo demanded, his voice steady despite his rapid breathing. “Or do you normally tackle civilians for forest cardio? Must be a hell of a Fitbit score.”
Stefano hauled Leo to his feet, savoring the rapid pulse beneath his fingers where they circled the boy’s wrists. “Late-night walk? Through a security perimeter? With survival gear and climbing equipment?”
“I don’t know what kind of paranoid delusion you’re operating under, but I was just?—”
“Cut the bullshit,” Marco interrupted. “We know exactly what you were doing.”
