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Heat crawled up my neck the second it left my mouth. Fudge. Not like that.

“Good.” He tilted his head toward the nightstand. “Water. Tylenol. Take it.”

“Do I have a choice?”

He sighed. “It’ll help your head. You hit it hard.”

“Oh, great. I’ll just take mystery pills from the guy who wraps body parts with a pretty bow.”

There was a beat. “You thought it was pretty?”

My jaw fell open.

Is he serious? He’s… smiling?

“Wait, how do you know how hard I hit it?” I asked, refusing to grab the bottle.

“Ru,” he sighed.

“Ghost,” I shot back.

Something sparked in the eyeholes. Amusement, maybe.

“If I wanted to hurt you,” he said, “I had hours while you were out. I could have done anything. Instead, I put you to bed and brought you water.” He leaned forward, subtracting from the distance between us. “Drink it, little lamb. Before I have to make you.”

Little lamb.

The card. For you, little lamb.

My breath caught. I shouldn’t, but that last part sounded like a promise. And he made sense. I didn’t take orders from men in masks, no matter how good they smelled, or how good my Omega was making me think he smelled.

“What am I doing here?” I asked, ignoring the pills.

“Ru—”

“If you’re not going to hurt me, then prove it. Answer my questions.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he sat back.

“Like I said. You hit your head and I brought you here.”

“I was alone. How did you get in? How did you even know I fell?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“I don’t—”

“You do.” He said it gently. “Let’s not pretend, Ru. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

The room went quiet. I think I forgot to breathe. But he was right. I knew. I mean… I couldn’t have known, but I felt it. Eyes on me at all times. And I liked it.

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes.” He reached for something on the nightstand. A remote. He pointed it at the wall, and the giant TV flickered to life.

It wasn’t a TV.

It was my apartment.