What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “I don’t speak to him very often. He’s a busy man, and the Vipers are a busy group. What was it he told you?”
“According to the police report…” Nightingale removed a sheaf of papers from his folder, and Roman saw his own mugshot on one of them as the captain flipped through the documents with an empty expression. “You killed two betas and one alpha during your presentation at nineteen.”
“That’s correct.” The records were supposed to be sealed, but of course Ouroboros had copies.
Nightingale fanned out several sheets of paper, including print-outs of the crime scene, the gore cataloged in vivid color that somehow seemed distant and sterile at the same time. If Roman hadn’t been at the scene himself, if he weren’t the cause of it, it might have seemed unreal to him. From a distant vantage point, the brutality of the crime surprised even him. His memories of that afternoon were still limited, pieces flickering through every so often, though it seemed his mind had decided long ago that it was better for him not to remember every chilling detail of the moment his life changed for good.
“This is unusual even for a very protective alpha,” Nightingale explained, tucking a stray lock of hair behind one ear as his eyes swept across the photos. “Devereaux confirmed to me that was true.”
So they were talking about him behind his back. Fantastic. “What did he say?”
“He is a very… Eccentric man, though you’ve met him, and I’m sure you are aware of that.” Nightingale met Roman’s eyes, and something about his gaze was all-consuming. It wasimpossible to look away for even a moment. “And dangerous. Very dangerous. He likes dangerous people.”
“That still isn’t an answer to my question, Captain.”
“I had the distinct sense that while he understood the conversation was likely always coming, he didn’t want to discuss it. Hard to tell with him. And here I would have suspected him to be excited to disclose the acquisition of such an effective killer.” Nightingale said nothing for several moments, the tension between them stretching taut enough to tighten Roman’s chest. “But he did admit the truth to me. You’re a prime alpha, Roman Kane. I would assume you didn’t know that.”
A prime alpha?“Are you implying that Sidian is—?”
“I’m not implying that he’s a prime omega. I’m stating it outright.” Nightingale shrugged when Roman only stared at him, not sure how to take the information as his brain struggled to process the possibility. “It would explain why he could command you.Canyou command him?”
“I haven’t tried. I wouldn’t do that to him.” Just the thought of it was alien, unusual, borderline very upsetting. Not all alpha commands were bad, but it still made Roman sick down to his soul.
Nightingale, meanwhile, looked pleased by that. “Because youcan’t,” he stressed, stabbing one finger into the center of a crime scene photo. “But you can do this to protect him because prime omegas are so much more vulnerable than the average omega. You and I both know it to be true.”
That was putting it lightly. Prime alphas and prime omegas were both vanishingly rare mutations of the alpha and omega designations, though there were far fewer prime omegas than prime alphas. Prime alphas were a step higher in the food chain, occupying a hierarchy that allowed them to shrug off an alpha’s command with ease while demanding submission and respect from the alphas within their own packs. If those alphas refused,they were cast out or killed depending on how their prime took it.
But a prime omega was at the bottom of the hierarchy of designations, susceptible to alpha commands to a much more frightening degree than the average omega. Alphas took advantage of that; there were implications that there may be more prime omegas than society recognized, but alpha packs snapped them up before they could be registered as what they were. Locked away from the world, they would be at the mercy of their mates until the day they died.
And that difference was the root of what made prime alphas stand out from average alphas. A prime alpha could not command a prime omega, and therefore could not force them into anything. There was an almost guardian-like quality ascribed to them; they existed to protect their counterparts and had developed the ability to make alphas bow to them as part of it.
“I could be wrong, but I rarely am,” Nightingale continued while Roman sorted through every memory he had of Sidian, trying to match up the pieces to see if that even made sense to him. “Your scent is harsher than any of my Mambas’ scents. We know your reputation and what you do on missions, and of course, there’s your past. So I called Devereaux to confirm because if I suspected you to be a prime, then I knew he would have suspected it first. He had you tested after you were taken in.”
“Why didn’t he tell me that?” No wonder Roman barely got along with the other Vipers, and no wonder it was only Mal—his sparring partner, someone who constantly lost to him—who could reach him on any personal level.
Nightingale hummed. “That, I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t care to ask. Your personal issues are your own. But forthe next step of your mission, it was important that I know the truth.”
“You mean Pack Kincaid?” But whatelsecould Nightingale mean?
“Sidian will be susceptible to their alpha commands to a much higher degree than he would be if he were an average omega. This is important as they can, and likely will, try to use him against you as much as possible.” Nightingale removed something from a desk drawer, setting it in front of Roman. It looked like a small plastic case, nothing special. “These earplugs should block just enough of their voices to protect him from that, but should one fall out, or should they notice him using them, he will be made vulnerable.”
Of course he would be. If everything Sidian had both said and alluded to was true, then Pack Kincaid would do just as Nightingale said. “I suppose that’s why he never ended up pregnant.”
“Pardon?” Nightingale furrowed dark brows at him, a frown tugging at his mouth.
“It was abreedingcenter,” Roman reminded him, and he let out a little ahh of understanding. “I thought it was odd he’d be there for two years and conceive no children, but prime omegas are prone to higher levels of stress. That might have been why it never worked out.”
“Likely so,” Nightingale agreed, rising to his feet. “Thank you for having this discussion with me. I wanted to make sure that you and your mate were well-prepared for what came next. You have an advantage, Kane. As a prime, you’ll have an edge on them you do not want to waste. Be careful to keep it from being revealed until the proper moment. You are dismissed.”
Roman pocketed the earplugs with a quick, curt nod of thanks and exited the office. He needed to find Sidian as quickly as possible.
They had a long, serious conversation ahead of them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“There are eight registered alphas in Pack Kincaid,” Hadeon said, dropping a thick manila folder onto the rickety plastic table. “But I’m sure you’ve met all of them by this point.”
“I have.” Just the same, Sidian scanned the list of names on the front page of the stack of documents, the first sheet of paper resting atop the stack.Dax, Slate, Nash, Axel, Jett, Knox, Talon, Ford.Every single alpha had been present for both of Sidian’s heats, and every single one of them had taught him he didn’t know the definition of true suffering. Not yet. Not until they were done with him. “They have such stupid fucking names. Stupid fucking names for stupid fucking alphas.”
