The butcher has a particular interest in this one.
The butcher.
The name alone makes my blood ice in my veins, and Ishudder against Bethany, terrified as my thoughts linger on the threat. A particular interest. Am I slated for death? Or worse? Who could the butcher be to the Soldiers of Saint Aldous and Baphomet’s Prince?
Unless…
Unless it’s the very man who’s been butchering omegas for months now.
My father.
The thought makes my stomach drop.
What I’m slated forisworse than death.
“He’ll be coming for me,” I whisper to Bethany, my voice dull. “My father. He’s the butcher.”
Bethany hugs me. “We won’t let them take you. I swear it.”
But I already know what happens to omegas who fight back. At best, we’re collared. At worst, we’re forced to watch our mates die before our eyes, trapped in omega traps. My greatest fear, a fear even greater than my fear of my father.
Saints, Ican’tfight back, not if I want my pack to live. I see what Bethany means about them keeping our packs alive to control us. I would do anything for my men. Even if it means standing down, making myself small, and behaving.
“Beth, you have to let them take me when the time comes. They’ll kill your pack if you fight back.”
She looks me in the eye and smooths an errant curl behind my ear.
“Juniper, some things are worth fighting for.”
My father comesfor me the next morning. None of us have slept, but we’ve quieted, left to our own thoughts and fears. The fear in the room is palpable, bombarding my affinity, but my own terror is louder.
The butcher.
I hear him talk with a few Soldiers, then the door swings open, and five Soldiers stream into the room, their scribes raised in an obvious threat: attempt anything and you will be punished, maybe killed.
My father doesn’t wear a mask like the Soldiers do, which is somehow scarier. The grin on his face could rival the vicious smiles the Baphomet masks wear. He isn’t hiding; his devious glee is painted across his face. He doesn’t need a mask to inspire terror.
Beth clutches me, angling her body in front of mine, but my father isn’t deterred. He backhands her without a second thought, and we both cry out. She goes down, but she doesn’t stay down.
“You will not take this woman,” she says, fire in her voice.
“Stun her,” my father says to the Soldiers.
One Soldier levels his scribe at Bethany, and I duck in front of the other omega, shielding her with my body.
My father rolls his eyes and nods to two of the Soldiers. They come for me, each taking an arm, and I fight, thrashing against their grasp, but they’re too strong for me. They drag me up from the floor, even as I kick out at them, and when I’m away from Bethany, she launches herself at my father, only for her to fall to the ground, paralyzed by the same hex Cassian taught me.
I seethe. They’ve hurt my family, myrealfamily.
I’m defenseless against five Soldiers and my father; even my affinity won’t be enough to down them all. And worse, what would happen if Ididtake them down? Would my pack be punished? The thought makes me still in the Soldiers’ arms, and I sag, my head down.
“So, the bitch can behave,” one of the Soldiers grasping my arm says, his voice coming through his molded leather mask.
“When properly incentivized,” my father agrees. He nods to a Soldier. “Bind her wrists. Come, Juniper.”
I have no choice but to obey, to be dragged along by the Soldiers, taken from the other omegas. When I’m clear of the door, they force me forward, scribes digging into my back. I stumble along before them, off balance with my hands bound behind my back.My father leads me deeper into the consortium, into the medical wing of the school. The hospital at the consortium is a learning hospital, and I see that starkly as we proceed past treatment rooms and operating theaters. I crane my neck to see if there are omega test subjects or hostages in the treatment rooms, but a Soldier sets a rough hand on my shoulder and shoves me forward.
We finally come upon a treatment room far from the others, and my father slips a keyring from his pocket, unlocking the door. I’m brutally thrust into the room, stumbling and crashing into the railed bed. I haven’t even righted myself when the Soldier forces me to my feet and unbinds my wrists.
