“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your little secret. But I know who you are, Finch. I
know what you are. And while it isn’t fair, I’m going to use you as a sacrifice to save the rest of
the poor Disgraces that have been conned into coming to this travesty of a meat market to
fight for the ‘privilege’ of being mated to a dragon. It had to be you, of course. You’ve been
consorting with the enemy for years and this party is your doing. You planned it down to the
last detail, pleased to know that you would be dooming one of your own to an eternity spent
as an incubator.” An unhinged cackle rose in Bran’s throat, but he choked it off with a growl
before it could materialize in full and ended it all by spitting on Finch. “Filthy traitor. I should kill
you, but I think giving you a taste of your own medicine is a far better plan. In about,” he
checked his watch, “seven minutes, I’m going to drag you into the elevator and send you on
up. About that time, you’ll start coming to and the heat stimulant will have taken effect. You’ll
do absolutely anything at that point to get an alpha knot inside you, and the only alpha here is
your ridiculous employer. He’ll knot you, of course. You’ll beg for it, and he’ll do it over and
over until you’re stuffed full of his eggs. That will end this disgusting ball and save dozens of
Disgraces from spending their lives as living wombs in service to a dragon. You’ll be the one
stuck as the eternal incubator. The one whose eggs are taken away from him and who gets
shipped away until it’s time to breed again. Isn’t that all neat and tidy? I think so. And when
that brother of Hugh’s comes nosing around and asking you what happened, which he will,
you can tell him it was all Raven’s fault. He’ll know what you mean.”
Bran’s accent continued to slip as he spoke, shifting from American to Irish to something
vaguely Eastern European. Finch was too terrified to keep track of it. The omega was truly,
utterly mad.
“No,” he managed to say. He tried, unsuccessfully, to spit out the pill.
Bran’s eyes danced. “Oh, good. It’s show time.” He dragged Finch back toward the elevator
by his arms. “I wish I could be here to see the action, but I have other fish to fry. I’m sure you
understand.”
The elevator door opened as they arrived, but it wasn’t empty. Two men were in it, although
all Finch could see were shoes. His nose, however, smelled alpha. Strong, musky alpha, plus
the smell of good tobacco, old paper, and expensive brandy. It was the most wonderful thing
he’d ever smelled in his life. He wanted to roll the scent around him like a soft and comforting