Stefan heads down the hall toward the guest bedroom, his limp more pronounced than before. I watch him go, making sure he actually follows through before turning my attention back to the unconscious man on the floor.
I look at the time on my phone. There’s less than twenty minutes until Morrison's people arrive for the horse delivery. And then this evening or tomorrow morning will be the handoff where we collect payment. I'm going to push it to tomorrow morning if I can, give us more time to stabilize the situation before introducing more variables.
But first, I have a few things to take care of.
I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the name I need. Leonardo is one of my most trusted ranch hands, someone who's been with us for years and knows how to handle sensitive situations without asking too many questions.
The phone rings twice before he picks up. "Boss?"
"Hey, come to the back door," I tell him. "Don't come inside. I have a special delivery for you."
Leonardo perks up on the other end of the line, interest clear in his voice. "Any limits?"
"Keep him alive," I say, looking down at the unconscious man bleeding on my floor. "And figure out his phone. We'll need it later to send messages to Harmony House, make them think everything is fine."
"Done and done," Leonardo says immediately. "Give me twenty minutes."
I hang up and crouch down next to the man, who's starting to groan as consciousness returns. Blood mats his hair where his head hit the floor, more blood running from his broken nose and split lips. He's going to have a concussion at minimum, possibly worse.
"You really sealed your fate, didn't you?" I tell him conversationally.
His one good eye opens, focusing on me with difficulty. Fear washes over his features as he realizes he's no longer in the chair, that he's completely vulnerable on the floor.
"Please," he mumbles through swollen lips. "I was just doing my job. Following orders."
"Following orders," I repeat, my voice flat. "Like the people at Harmony House who sedated Solana through her heats. Like the ones who isolated her for asking questions. Like the ones who convinced her she was broken and wrong and incapable of functioning in the world. All just following orders."
I stand up, looking down at him with cold assessment. "Leonardo is going to ask you some questions. I suggest you answer them honestly and completely. Because if you don't, if you hold anything back, I'll let Stefan have another turn with you. And trust me, he's got a lot more rage to work through."
Chapter thirty-nine
Stefan
I step back into the bedroom and Ashton's scent washes over me like a physical force, making me immediately hard. The sweetness has intensified to almost unbearable levels, faded lavender and rain-soaked stone now mixed with something that screams pre-heat. My cock strains against my jeans, the pressure bordering on painful. The fabric pulls tight across my erection, making every movement uncomfortable.
A growl tears from my throat before I can stop it, the sound primal and possessive. It's not something I've ever done before, never had an Omega affect me enough to trigger that kind of response. Working for Charles meant maintaining rigid control, never allowing biological impulses to override professional judgment. But Ashton destroys that control without even trying.
I look up and freeze at the sight before me, my brain struggling to process what I'm seeing even as my body responds with devastating intensity.
Ashton is face down on the bed, completely naked, his ass up in the air in a position of pure offering. His face is buried in the pillow that I've been using, the one that probably reeks of my scent after I slept on it last night. His hips rock in desperate rhythm as he roughly pumps two fingers inside himself, the movements uncoordinated and clearly not providing the relief he needs.
Slick pours down the inside of his thighs, coating his pale skin and soaking into the sheets beneath him. The evidence of his arousal is everywhere—on the bed, on his legs, probably on his hands from where he's been trying to bring himself relief. The sight is obscene, beautiful, absolutely devastating to whatever control I thought I had left.
Muffled whines escape from where his face is pressed into the pillow, desperate sounds that make every Alpha instinct I have roar to life. They're not the controlled sounds of pleasure but the unrestrained vocalizations of someone past the point of caring about dignity or restraint. Someone who needs relief so badly that nothing else matters.
My hands clench into fists at my sides, my whole body going rigid as I fight the urge to cross the room and take what's being offered. Years of training scream at me to maintain distance, to not take advantage of an Omega in distress. But stronger instincts, older ones, demand I provide what he needs.
I let out another growl, deeper this time, vibrating through my chest. Ashton's head snaps up at the sound, his eyes glazed and desperate as they find mine. His pupils are blown wide, nearly swallowing the pale color of his irises. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with fever.
"Fuck, please," he gasps, his voice wrecked and barely recognizable. "I wouldn't ask this of you but I can't—"
"Are you in heat?" I interrupt, needing to know what I'm dealing with. If his heat has fully triggered, this becomes infinitely more complicated. A full heat means days of constant attention, of knotting him repeatedly until his body is satisfied. It means a level of commitment I'm not sure either of us is ready for.
Ashton shakes his head frantically, his fingers never stopping their movement. "No, fuck, this is embarrassing but I can't stop it..."
"What are you talking about?" I take a step closer despite my better judgment, my injured leg protesting the movement but I ignore it. The pain is background noise compared to the need pulling me forward.
"Both of your scents are here," Ashton explains, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. "Yours and Solana's. And I need it, more of it. I've taken three showers today trying to wash it off but it's just getting worse and I know I can't have her, okay? I know that. She's yours and Dustin's and Kade's. And I know we aren't staying here permanently. And I know at some point I'm going back to my father because where else would I go—"
