But he couldn’t answer it. Not truthfully. If he wasn’t willing to tell Roman what happened in its entirety, no fucking way was he telling a stranger. “No. Dunno if they just didn’t want to knock me up or if the stress of the place got to me, but they never pulled it off. I’m happy about that.”
“Can’t say I know what goes through the minds of sick fucks like that.” Hadeon nudged a bag of chips toward him, and Sidian grabbed it. Maybe he should eat something. “Dax Kincaid is a piece of work.”
“You know about him?” Might not be a bad idea to get a little information if possible.
“Spoiled rich brat like you’d expect. Don’t know when he got involved with the trafficking scene, but his pack popped up on our radar about a year and a half ago. They’re all mostly the same.” Hadeon tilted his hand back and forth, then curled his fingers into a fist. “Sadistic pieces of shit. Get their kicks out of hurting people. They’re allowed to sample the merchandisewithin reason, though we have no way of knowing whether their omega has any idea what’s going on.”
Theirwhat?“What do you mean, their omega? They actually have a mate at home?”
“They do,” Hadeon confirmed, then jumped to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you the files we have.”
Sidian followed him without a word, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as they headed back toward the elevator. He wasn’t sure where they were going, but at just that moment, he no longer cared. No longer cared that Hadeon was a stranger and that he was skulking around a place he didn’t know without Roman at his side. If the Mambas had information on Pack Kincaid they were willing to share, then Sidian would do anything to get his hands on it. He needed to know everything he could.
And if they had an omega waiting at home, an omega who was probablyraising his daughter,then he needed to know if he was about to add another person to his hit list.
It wasn’t personal.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The main building of each Pit contained both an office for the leader of that branch of Ouroboros and an office that belonged to the captain. Roman had been in Jagger’s office only once, so it felt odd to lower himself into a chair across from the desk belonging to Captain Noel Nightingale, who oversaw the Mambas. Office visits were often aligned with punishment; Jagger rarely had to speak to any of the Vipers unless they had done something he wanted to rip them a new asshole for.
Nightingale was nothing like Jagger, bulky and sharp. The Mamba captain was slim and almost gangly, his near-black eyes shadowed by the soft chestnut waves that tumbled down to his shoulders. There was a solemnity that cloaked him, which made Roman uneasy, though he couldn’t have explained how even if asked to. Admittedly, it was hard to believe someone like this captained someone like Hadeon, but the same could be said about Jagger and Locke and Keay.
“I’m sorry to keep you away from your mate,” Nightingale said, hands folded atop a manila folder. “He’s with Hadeon, if you were concerned. They went off toward the dorms.”
Roman hummed. "I’d be more concerned about Hadeon if I were you.”
Nightingale did not smile. “You jest. I don’t. I wanted to speak to you in private because I was reviewing the footage from the interrogation, and I have questions for you.”
An interrogation following an interrogation? Perhaps just a debrief, then. Roman could handle that, though he wasn’t part of the debriefing back in the Vipers’ Pit. That honor belonged to Ghost and Mal. “Sure. What questions do you have for me?”
“Have you always been submissive where Sidian Vey is concerned, or is that something that’s only sprung up between the two of you following his stay in the breeding center?”
Roman’s mouth dried. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about our personal lives.”
“I would agree with you. However, in the current circumstances, I do not.” Nightingale flipped open the folder and extracted a photograph from it, sliding it across the desk to Roman. It was of himself, a close-up of Sidian’s name carved into his chest. “Is he the one who did this?”
So they were going there no matter what. “He did. It was something I consented to.”
“I see.” Nightingale studied him for a moment. “Have you tried to command him even once?”
“The Vipers are forbidden from using alpha commands during missions because we’re in proximity to traumatized omegas. Sidian, unfortunately, is one such omega. So, no, I haven’t.” There was no need to explain; he never would. It was implicit, tied up in everything he said and did for Sidian.
“And has he tried to use a command on you?” Nightingale spoke with such a flat, toneless voice, but the question sent a series of chills down Roman’s spine.
How could he have known that?“If there’s something you’re trying to get at, just say it. I don’t enjoy games. I work with people who are upfront when they want to know something.”
Nightingale studied him for a long moment before removing another photo from the folder and laying it out: a close-up of the lily carved into Roman’s chest. “I imagine this would have taken serious time and caused you excruciating pain even with an alpha’s pain tolerance. And you allowed it.”
“We have a complex relationship. That’s all.” And he didn’t see what the carvings had to do with the command. Whatever the connection between them, Roman couldn’t see it.
It made him antsy, though. Therewas something in the fact Sidian could command him, though Roman didn’t understand how or why that should have worked. Though he could have written it off as tied to the fact he liked to hand Sidian control without a second thought, he knew that wasn’t all of it.Couldn’tbe all of it, as much as he would have been happy not to put any serious thought into it. Alphas and omegas had deep, instinctive, biological ties to one another, and Roman had never heard of an omega being able to do what Sidian did with flawless ease. There had to be more to it, and Nightingale saw that.
“You have a complex relationship if your mate can command you despite his omega status. It is not something an omega can do.” Nightingale pursed his lips, ruminating before he leaned back in his chair. “I contacted your captain, and when dissatisfied with his answers, I went up one more link in the chain of command. What has Lorcan Devereaux told you about yourself?”
The boss’s name felt like a weight that dropped into Roman’s stomach. “What do you mean?”
“Did he tell you why he chose you?” Nightingale asked. “I mean the real reason. I would presume not, or you’d likely already know the answers to the questions I’m asking you.”
