“Oh, shit,” I say, my stomach dropping. “What did he say?”
The three of us join them at the table, and Jasper hits Play on a saved clip.
“I met with some supposed Alphas recently. These men have no idea what real masculinity looks like. No spine. No strength. Just weakness disguised as kindness.” Reed’s pompous voice fills the room.
My hands curl into fists. “He’s still pushing that same crap.”
“But I’ll be working withtheirsocial media guy at my upcoming event,” Reed continues smugly. “I’m going to show him what a real man looks like. What true male behavior entails. He’s young, impressionable, hungry to learn. He’s going to see firsthand the difference between weak men and strong ones.”
“That fucker,” Mason mutters, stopping the clip.
“Good thing he has absolutely no idea he’s being played,” I say with satisfaction.
“So here’s the plan,” Slater states, his voice taking on that commanding tone. “You film the actual event however you can on your phone. Get footage of what he’s actually teaching people. He keeps saying no video is permitted at his events, that if you want to learn more, you have to attend and pay. He’s hustling people, pushing ticket sales. So if you can get actual footage of him, that’s all we need to reveal it to the world to see the truth.” He stares at me seriously. “No putting yourself in danger. Just footage, then you’re out. Then we destroy him publicly with his own words.”
They all nod in agreement. After the shit Reed is pulling, spreading his toxic garbage and attacking good men like mine, I can’t wait to ruin him.
And sitting here surrounded by my pack, my Alphas, my home, I know I’m not alone anymore.
And together, we’re going to take Reed down.
30
ANITA
This is the day of Reed’s big event just outside of town, and I’m ready.
I thought I might be nervous, sitting here in Slater’s truck as we pull into the large parking lot, but hell no. I’m not anxious at all.
I’m furious. Focused. Determined. I’m ready to capture footage of the absolute crap Reed spews, the toxic garbage he really tells people at his events, and expose him for the scammer and manipulator he is. The brainwashing he does to vulnerable men who are just looking for guidance, for a place to belong.
This feels so right, like it’s the path I should have started on from the very beginning. But when I think back, if I hadn’t investigated Wilde Charters first, then I would never have met my scent matches—these four Alphas who are becoming my entire world more and more each day.
Our bonds are so tangled and tight now that just being away from them for too long has me physically aching to seek themout, and they do the same to me, always finding excuses to be in the same room, to touch me, to check on me.
I love their attention, crave it like oxygen.
But focus. Yes.I’ve got an asshole to get intel on today, and then he’s getting dragged through the fucking mud publicly.
It’s early morning in front of the convention center, a huge modern building with glass walls and sleek architecture. The parking lot is already filling up with cars.
Slater parks and turns to me, his gaze serious. “Keep your phone on silent and with you at all times. Stay in touch with us. Text updates when you can.”
“Of course. I love how much you worry about me.”
“You have no idea how much,” he says, drawing me in for a kiss that’s deep and possessive and makes my toes curl. When he pulls back, his hand cups my face. “And don’t do anything risky to get caught. Play it safe, okay? Get your footage and get out. I’ll pick you up whenever you’re ready.”
He kisses me again, even more passionately this time, and I find myself wondering if I’d be better off spending my day in his car, climbing over the center console into his lap and seeing how long I can kiss him before we fog up all the windows.
Sounds significantly more entertaining than spending hours watching Reed perform. But I’m also eager to destroy him, desperately eager.
So I kiss Slater a bit more, savoring the taste of his coffee and the feeling of his hands in my hair, then reluctantly pull away and slide out of the truck.
He leans over to look at me through the open door. “Remember, little Omega, you’re brilliant, you’re brave, and you’re going to ruin this asshole’s entire career today. I’m so proud of you. And I can’t wait for you to stop wearing this male disguise, as it’s very distracting when I kiss you.”
I laugh and blow him kisses before I shut the door, adjusting my Ash getup—wig secure, facial hair in place, binder tight, baggy clothes hiding my shape.
I head toward the convention center stairs, joining the flow of men moving toward the entrance. Most of them appear normal. Everyday guys in jeans and button-ups, some in business casual attire, ranging from early twenties to late fifties.
