“No, you wanted to put me in the place you liked. Not the same thing.” She sat up, drawing deep breaths now that she didn’t have a heavy man sitting on her chest.
“You have always been stubborn, always too quick to suffer needlessly to prove some foolish point. Let’s not pretend, Corrine.”
Her old name grated, something she hadn’t been called since she’d escaped.
“Youare my daughter, my flesh and blood, my legacy, and the last part of my mate. You do not belong out there doing whatever you have been for the last twenty years.”
“So you’ll sell me, like I’m just a used car you found?”
“You aren’t livestock, not like the others being sold. Will money exchange hands? Of course. That is the best way to ensure you end up somewhere where you will be properly taken care of. People who pay a great deal for their things tend to take better care of them. I will choose the correct alpha who can handle your…” He hesitated, as though trying not to insult her. “Your spirited ways.”
“If you think I’m going to just give in and be a good little omega for you or any asshole who thinks he can own me, you really don’t know me.”
He waved off her argument. “Everyone says that at first. Isawyou, Corrine, and even if you don’t want it to be true, you were made to submit. Even when it was supposed to be a ploy, even when you were supposed to be acting, I watch you react on instinct. You were born to kneel, and the sooner you accept that, the better your life will be. Fight it, if you must, because it won’t change a thing. This is who you are, and it is who you will always be.” He rose, and even when she lunged at him, even when she tried to grab him, nothing worked.
He walked out as though her fight were a temper tantrum, one he would accept because she couldn’t help herself.
Too quickly, the energy ran out, and she sat on the bed. The collar sat on the table like a dead thing, forgotten, used up and tossed away.
And for the first time, a real tear ran down her cheek.
* * **
Kyle couldn’t stop pacing. Everything inside him was on edge, frustration eating away at him.
The auction was today, and they still had no damn idea where it was. Clearly, they’d been found out, so it wasn’t as though Geoffrey would be sending them an invite with the details.
And Alison was out there, somewhere, alone, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“Sit down,” Kieran snapped from his computer, them having all gathered at Tracy, Sam, Mason and Dylan’s place.
“Whenyourmate is missing,youcan sit down. Until then, shut the fuck up,” Kyle snarled back.
Kane responded from his spot in a chair that he balanced on two legs. “Don’t mind him. Trust me, he was a bitch when Tiffany went missing.”
Kyle shook his head and resumed his pacing. They needed to dosomething.
The FBI had promised to help, but so far hadn’t come up with anything. They were at the same dead stop they’d been at before Alison had agreed to join.
And now Alison was gone. What if the auction went on as normal? What if they sold her? What if he never saw her again, never even knew what happened to her?
He drew his hands into fists, the tension inside him making him want someone to do something to let him lose his temper. Blowing off a little steam would be perfect right about then.
Instead, he kept pacing and let everyone work. Sam was at the police station trying to find anything he could, especially since the murder was local, and he was on the special division for omega crimes. Kieran and Joshua were working tirelessly on their computers.Kane, Kara, Torrin, Liam and Erik had gone after every contact they could, trying to discover anything.
It had led to fuck-all.
The only people who knew about the auction were those attending, andthosepeople wouldn’t be breathing a word of it.
The front door opened, and a moment of stupid, baseless hope made Kyle turn toward it.
Sam.
He was breathless, as if he’d run all the way there. “I’ve got something.” He held up a small bag, then pulled the folded paper from it.
Kyle snatched it from him, unfolding the page and frowning at the messy, sprawling handwriting. “What’s this?”
“Anne wrote it before she passed out, when the clerk was calling nine-one-one. He didn’t find it until after everyone left.”
