Ice floods my veins. "What pictures? What are you talking about?"
"Shh." He steps closer. The big man moves too, circling around behind me, cutting off my path back to my car. "No need to be scared. We're going to take good care of you."
The world tilts.
This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I'm dreaming—I'm still in my bed at the Graves house, having some kind of heat-induced nightmare, and any second now I'm going to wake up and—
But I can feel the cold seeping through my shoes. Smell the salt and rot on the wind. Hear my own heartbeat pounding so loud it drowns out everything else.
This is real.
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god—
My brain short-circuits. Every horror story I've ever heard about omegas floods back at once. The news reports Margot tried to hide from me. The whispered warnings in foster care.Don't go out alone. Don't trust strangers. Don't let anyone know what you are because there are people who will pay good money for—
I turn to run.
I don't make it two steps.
The big man's arm wraps around my chest from behind, lifting me clean off the ground. A scream tears out of my throat—raw, primal, the sound of an animal caught in a trap—but a hand clamps over my mouth before it can reach anyone who might help.
Not that there's anyone here to help. Not that anyone would come even if they heard.
I thrash. Kick. Claw at the arm that holds me, nails raking across skin, desperate for any kind of grip. My feet swing uselessly in the air. My lungs burn. I can't breathe—his hand is too tight over my mouth and nose and I can't breathe—
Atlas. Zero. Bane.
Their names flash through my mind like a prayer. Like a plea to gods who can't hear me.
I should have stayed. I should have faced them. I should have dealt with the shame and the humiliation and whatever came next because at least I would have been safe, at least I would have been—
The big man's grip shifts and I suck in a desperate breath through my nose. Use it to scream again, muffled but loud,thrashing harder even though it's useless, even though he's too strong and I'm too small and this was always going to end this way—
Stupid. So fucking stupid. You walked right into this. You let your shame make you reckless and now you're going to die in some warehouse and no one will ever know what happened to you—
"Hold him still," the smaller man snaps. "He's going to hurt himself."
I don't care. I'd rather hurt myself than let them—than be—
I bite down on the hand covering my mouth. Taste blood. The big man swears and his grip loosens for just a second—
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
"Careful with him." The smaller man's voice is clinical. Detached. "He's worth more undamaged."
Worth more.
Worth more.
This isn't a drug deal. This is—
A needle slides into my neck.
I feel the prick, then a cold rush spreading under my skin. My struggles slow. My limbs go heavy. The world tilts sideways, colors bleeding at the edges.
"There we go." The smaller man's face swims into view in front of me. He's still smiling. "Just relax. It'll all be over soon."
I try to speak. Try to scream. But my mouth won't work. Nothing works. My body is shutting down, system by system, and all I can do is hang limply in the big man's arms as they carry me toward the sedan.
