Page 63 of His Stolen Omega

“Until?”

“Until you come to your senses and order him destroyed. Or,” it was clear he wasn’t a fan of this next option, “you release him. The second Kian discovers what was done, he’ll declare war, but we’ve got the numbers to stand against him if it comes to that. Holding onto Pike isn’t a solution either. Right now, using him as leverage against Elm is one thing, but Kian is also now searching for his Runner. Either one of them could lead him straight to our doorstep.”

Admittedly, Levi wasn’t in the mood for a war. With the Eumia newly relocated, it’d seemed like any chance of that extreme had gone with them. But Baal was right. When Levi had decided not to shoot the omega in the head, he should have ordered him returned to his brother.

“What’s the purpose of waiting for him to stabilize? The second you realized you were starting to be influenced by him you should have called the whole thing off and killed him. He’s become a liability in more ways than one,” Baal said firmly.

“Your displeasure in the way I’ve been handling things has been noted.” Should Levi dispose of the omega? Yes. Absolutely yes. He knew it as well as the underboss did. Could see that his friend wasn’t wrong.

But that changed nothing.

“Fuck him?” Things couldn’t continue this way. Baal was right. Levi could already feel those familiar urges stirring within him, the ones that took over his mind and made him latch onto something with a suffocating grip.

“Remember what happened with your first pet?” Baal’s voice dropped.

How could he forget?

Levi’s mother had gifted him a rabbit for his thirteenth birthday. She’d joked they had the same hair color, and had explained how dependent on Levi the creature was going to become. How the rabbit’s survival relied solely on Levi and his level of care.

For six months, he’d dedicated every waking moment to it. He fed it, watched over it, allowed it into his bed. It wasn’t long before he’d developed an extreme attachment, one that resulted in his moods shifting depending on how much attention he deemed the rabbit returned.

As if the rabbit had the same cognitive thought processes as he did.

As if the fluffy little creature could actively snub him.

It’d all come to a head six months in. His father was saying something unimportant at the dinner table, Levi wasn’t paying attention because the rabbit had bitten his finger and made him bleed, and he felt like this was its way of telling him he hated him.

In a rage, his father had shot from his chair, snatched the rabbit and twisted its neck.

The death had been quick, if nothing else. Most likely painless.

The one Levi delivered in retaliation was anything but.

His father had only just dropped the body to the floor, discarding it like trash instead of the treasure that it was, when Levi reacted.

He’d grabbed the holstered blaster at his father’s hip and fired three bullets in rapid succession.

One in the man’s groin.

One in his stomach.

And one in his throat.

Everyone else in the room had screamed, but Levi had stood over his father’s body, watching as the man choked on his own blood, and all he could remember thinking was how annoyed he was that he’d gotten crimson all over his white rabbit’s fur.

He’d lost control that day.

It’d been a reaction. An accident, of sorts.

Most of his emotional responses had died that day along with his beloved pet, and he’d developed an anxiety disorder around control and the need to always be the one with it, even over himself.

Maybe especially over himself.

Baal was right. Levi had seen it. Had subconsciously been aware of the risk. But…

“I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” he confessed. “I’d forgotten what it was like.”

“It’s easy to ignore the signs, but—” Baal didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, the sound of screeching cutting him off a second before a massive freight truck zoomed into their lane.