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He looks over at me in surprise. “Why would I do that?”
My eyes narrow into slits even as black swims in my vision. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to kill you. I swear to God I will.”
He’s unfazed by my threat. In fact, if anything, he looks charmed. Like he thinks I’m adorable. He crouches down so our eyes are level. “I would never kill my greatest accomplishment, Sadie. Never. You’ve helped me discover the secrets to making omegas. You will always have a soft spot in my heart.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? To make me just be okay with all the shit you put me through? You fucking tortured me for years. I was a child, and you subjected me to unnecessary procedure after unnecessary procedure. I was in pain every single time I left your office.”
He straightens up, his palm resting on the top of my head as though he thinks his touch will soothe me. “I regret that. But it was all part of the process, my dear.”
All part of the… Of course, that’s how he would see it. I’ve never been an actual person to him, not a living being. I’ve always been an experiment, a means to an end.
Fuck him.
Fuck all of this.
Swift must feel the swell of my righteous indignation because he responds with a giddy, vicious, violent feeling. A promise of what’s coming.
Dr. Funkle frowns down at me. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He sighs and runs a hand over his face before tipping my head up with a finger under my chin. “Your friend, Sorrel Forbes. She’s a packless beta, isn’t she?” My stomach swoops in fear at his casual mention of my friend. Just like it had when he’d talked about Sylvie. But Sylvie at least is safe for now, being courted by the Werth pack who owns the half of the city that the Falcone pack doesn’t.
I know they won’t let anything happen to her. They have the power and the wealth to protect her.
Sorrel, though? Sorrel is alone in the world. Her parents died suddenly and tragically before she and I ever met. There’s a douchebag pack up at Lake Kilrose that seems to think she owes them something, but would they really raise a fuss if she disappeared?
I shake my head at the threat. “Please.”
“Please what, Sadie?”
I swallow thickly. “Please leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Well, now that’s where you’re wrong. She means something to you, which means I can use that to my advantage. Claudia Poole paid a lot of money to become an omega. She is within her rights to demand that we kill you. But my research is just as important. So if I have to hold your friend’s safety over your head to get you to cooperate, I will. Is that understood?”
Tears fill my eyes and flow down my cheeks. “Yes.”
His fingers caress my cheek. “Good. Now, I hate to do this, my dear, but you are putting off enough omega pheromones to alert anyone to your distress, and we’re running out of time. So it’s time to move on to the suppressants before we can move you.”
“Please, don’t.” I don’t want to go back to how I felt before. The idea of reliving the pain of the concentrated does sweeping through my body and obliterating my very make up, makes nausea swell. I don’t want to go back to being just a beta.
I want to stay an omega. Surprising to come to that realization after all my complaining about it. I want to stay with my pack. I want to have the chance to love them properly, fully. To be loved in return. I can’t handle the thought of not having them any longer.
His motions are confident. Years of practice, of doing this to me and others, taking the lead.
I want to fight. I want to buck and kick and scream and curse at him. I want to have alpha strength to break through the bonds on my wrists and throat punch this motherfucker. But I can’t. I’m too weak and I’m too drained. I’m fighting nausea and my brain is all kinds of fuzzy and my vision is wavering in and out.
Hurry, I urge Swift with as much strength as I can muster.
And as if in answer to my plea, the room shudders. Something dry and powdery rains down on me from above. Dr. Funkle curses, his movements grow more frantic, but my whole body relaxes.
A smile curves my lips. “You’re so fucked,” I mutter. “So fucked. My pack is going to tear you apart.”
For the first time since he walked into this room, he looks concerned. Genuinely worried that he might not get away with this. A gunshot, close to us, has him jumping.
He curses. “They might tear me apart, Sadie,” he murmurs. “But they’ll still be too late to save you.”
“What?” I murmur, just before I feel the pinch in my arm and the familiar painful spread of the suppressants in my veins.
