Is this for the omega black market?
My head snaps up, staring down the hallway where Pace vanished.
Grason steps in closer, shoulder brushing mine as he leans over the card. “Wait. Is that real?” He squintsat the tiny piece of paper. “Is this actually for the…” his voice trails off, too shocked to say the words.
“Yeah. I think it is,” I say, staring at the card with disbelief. “But how the hell did Pace end up with this? Or even know about it?”
Grason looks up at me, his hazel eyes wide with something between shock and horror. “Can we even do that?” he asks, voice rough. “Get an omega without Cass’s approval? That’s—Warren, that’s a massive decision. We can’t?—”
I push out a tense breath, not sure what to say or do.
He’s right. Adding an omega to our pack is the kind of decision a pack alpha should make. And Cass…fuck, I don’t even know if he’d want this.
Would he see it as help?
Or as us going behind his back?
As proof that we think he’s not strong enough on his own?
The thought twists something deep in my chest.
Behind us, Beck’s soft, broken voice carries from the guest room, saying Cass’s name in a panic-tight whisper. “It’s okay, my love,” he mumbles. “Everything's going to be okay. We’ll get you better.”
His words tremble.
But Cass doesn’t respond.
I close my fist around the pink card, edges biting into my palm.
I’ll do whatever I have to do to fix my pack alpha.
What the Fuck?
Tansy
I wakeup disoriented and angry, a spark tingling just beneath my skin.
When I pry my eyes open, the world swims. I drag in a deep breath, grounding myself in the smells around me. Dirt and wet leaves, clean cotton, and something faintly smoky, like a fire is burning somewhere nearby.
I lift my head, squinting through the blur, but all I can see is light seeping through what looks like stretched canvas.
Am I in a tent?
I shift, feeling the tiny cot beneath me. Lifting one arm, my muscles ache. It feels like I’ve been folded into one position for too long. My shoulders burn. My hips feel bruised. Even my fingers are stiff and clumsy as I flex them around the thin sheet draped over me.
A low murmur drifts from somewhere next to me. Turning my head, I find a thin white partition right next tome. It’s stretched tight like a sheet. Not thick enough to really block anything out. Just enough to pretend there’s privacy.
Lights on the other side throw outlines of people onto the fabric, blurred at the edges like a stain. Soft shapes. A shoulder. A head tipping forward. Someone pacing in a short line, back and forth, back and forth.
Murmurs prick my ear, voices low but professional. The scent of multiple betas seeps through the partition. Clean sweat. Antiseptic wipes. Cheap coffee. And threaded through all of it is the faint aroma of omegas.
Then, I swear I hear someone request a syringe, then a bandage.
Is this some kind of hospital?
Was I rescued from the alpha who snatched me in that alley?
At least that’s what I think happened…
