"What do you want?" I forced the words out through gritted teeth, my hands curling into fists at my sides, my scent shifting to something sharp and bitter with fear I couldn't quite hide, my whole body trembling with the effort of holding my ground.
"What I've always wanted." He moved toward me slowly, deliberately, like a predator savoring the chase, his expensive shoes crunching on the gravel, his dark eyes never leaving my face, his tongue sliding across his lower lip in that way that made my skin crawl. "Longhorn Ranch. The land, the cattle, everything Reid's family built." He paused, close enough now that I could smell him — that wrong scent, cologne over something rotten, ambition without conscience, desire without boundaries. "And you as well….there aren’t many Omegas around here.."
"I'm not for sale." The growl built in my chest, low and feral, my Omega instincts warring with my survival instincts, my body coiling to fight or flee. "And neither is Longhorn."
"Everyone's for sale, sweetheart." He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek, his touch cold and invasive, and I jerked back like I'd been burned, a snarl ripping from my throat, my hands coming up defensively. His smile widened, something dark and hungry flickering in his eyes, his hand dropping to his side as he watched my reaction with obvious pleasure, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in my fear. "The question is just what currency they accept."
"Don't touch me." My voice shook with rage, with fear, with the effort of not running, my nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. "Don't ever touch me."
"Or what?" He stepped closer, invading my space, his scent washing over me in waves that made my hindbrain scream, his chest nearly touching mine, his breath hot on my face. "You'll growl at me again? Bare your teeth like a feral little cat?" He laughed, the sound hollow and cruel, echoing across the empty road, bouncing off nothing and returning to mock me. "I like that about you, actually. That fire. It's going to be so satisfying to watch it go out."
I moved before I could think, my hand coming up to claw at his face, my nails raking across his cheek hard enough to draw blood, feeling skin tear beneath my fingers, feeling the hot wet of it against my hand. He hissed, jerking back, his hand flying to the scratches, his eyes going wide with shock and then narrowing with rage, his face twisting into something ugly and vicious.
"You little bitch." The words came out low and venomous, all pretense of civility stripped away, blood welling between his fingers and dripping down his jaw, staining his pristine white collar, his eyes blazing with murder. "You're going to regret that."
I ran.
My feet pounded against the road, my lungs burning, the bolt of silk falling from my arms and tumbling into the dust, the brown paper tearing as it hit the gravel. The gate was still too far — a quarter mile, maybe more — but I ran anyway, ran like my life depended on it, because it probably did. My boots slammed against the packed dirt, my arms pumping, my breath tearing through my throat in ragged gasps.
I heard him behind me, his footsteps heavy and fast, his breath ragged with fury, his expensive shoes slapping against theroad. He was bigger than me, stronger, his legs longer. I could hear him gaining, could feel the distance closing, could smell his rage like smoke in the air, thick and choking.
"Help!" The scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate, carrying across the empty fields, scattering birds from the grass, echoing into nothing. "Someone help me!"
His hand closed on my arm, yanking me backward, his grip like iron, and I stumbled, my ankle twisting on the uneven ground with a sickening crunch of pain. I went down hard, gravel biting into my palms, my knees, tearing through my jeans and into skin, but I kept fighting — kicking, scratching, biting at any part of him I could reach. My teeth found his forearm and I bit down hard, tasting copper, hearing him curse.
"Stop fighting." He was on top of me now, his weight pressing me into the road, crushing the air from my lungs, his hands grabbing for my wrists, his breath hot against my face, his blood dripping onto my cheek from the scratches I'd given him, mixing with the dust and sweat on my skin. "You're only making this worse for yourself."
"Get off me!" I bucked beneath him, managed to free one hand, drove my elbow into his ribs hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to feel something give. "Help! Somebody help!"
He backhanded me across the face, the blow snapping my head to the side, stars exploding behind my eyes, the taste of copper flooding my mouth as my lip split against my teeth. For a moment, everything went white and distant, my body going limp with shock, the world tilting and spinning around me.
"There." His voice was satisfied, smug, as he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand, his fingers grinding the bones together painfully, his other hand pressing against my throat just hard enough to make breathingdifficult, his palm slick with his own blood. "That's better. Now you're going to listen to me, little Omega."
I stared up at him through blurred vision, my cheek throbbing, my lip split and bleeding, my heart pounding with terror. His face was twisted with rage, those scratches standing out red and angry against his pale skin, his dark eyes burning with something that made my stomach turn — not just anger, but hunger, possession, a terrible certainty that he'd already won.
"Here's what's going to happen." He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear, his hand tightening on my throat until black spots danced at the edges of my vision, his voice dropping to something low and intimate and terrible. "You're going to come with me. Quietly. And if you're very, very good, I might let your precious Alphas live." He shifted his weight, pressing harder, making me gasp. "If you fight me, if you scream, if you do anything other than exactly what I say..." He pulled back to meet my eyes, his smile all teeth and cruelty, blood still dripping down his jaw. "I'll burn Longhorn to the ground with all of them inside. I'll make you watch. Do you understand me?"
Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my split lip, my body shaking with sobs I couldn't suppress. I thought of Reid, of his steady presence and his dark eyes full of love, his arms that always made me feel safe. Of Nolan, his gentle hands and his patient heart, the way he looked at me like I was something precious. Of Kol, his sunshine smile and his warm arms, the laughter that filled every room he entered. Of Sawyer, his fierce protection and his broken beautiful soul, the way he'd promised to tear apart anyone who hurt me.
I couldn't let Easton hurt them. I couldn't.
"I understand." The words came out broken, barely audible, my throat raw from screaming, my body trembling beneath hisweight, every instinct I had screaming at me to fight, to run, to do anything but surrender.
"Good girl." He stroked a hand down my cheek, smearing blood across my skin — his blood, my blood, I couldn't tell anymore — and I flinched away, bile rising in my throat, my skin crawling everywhere he touched, my Omega recoiling from his wrongness. "See? We can be civil about this."
He hauled me to my feet, his grip bruising on my arm, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, and half-dragged me toward the truck. My legs could barely hold me — my ankle screaming with every step, swelling already, my head spinning from the blow, my whole body shaking with fear and shock and helpless rage. I stumbled, nearly fell, and he yanked me upright with a growl of impatience.
"Walk." The command was sharp, his fingers tightening painfully. "Unless you want me to carry you. I don't mind. Might even enjoy it."
I forced my legs to move, forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, every step sending jolts of agony through my twisted ankle. The emerald silk lay in the dust behind us, trampled and forgotten, the brown paper torn and scattered by the wind. Something about that — about the ruined fabric, the destroyed dream of what it would become — made the tears fall faster.
The back door of the truck opened, and he shoved me inside, my shoulder hitting the leather seat hard enough to make me cry out, my injured ankle catching on the door frame and sending white-hot pain shooting up my leg. Before I could scramble away, he was climbing in after me, pressing me into the corner, his body blocking any escape, his scent suffocating in the enclosed space.
"Drive." His voice was sharp, commanding, and I realized for the first time that there was someone else in the truck — a driver,a Beta by the scent, his face carefully blank as he put the vehicle in gear, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror before sliding away, empty of anything like sympathy or help.
The truck pulled away from the road, away from Longhorn's gate, away from everything I loved. I pressed my face against the tinted window, watching the iron arch with its longhorn skull grow smaller and smaller in the distance, my tears leaving tracks on the glass, my breath fogging the window.
Reid, I thought, his name a prayer, a plea. Nolan. Kol. Sawyer.
