Tadeo glances up at the excited alpha, eyes narrowed with worry, but he doesn’t say anything.
“The flyer says it’s in five days.” I glance at the orange sheet lying on the table. “We take the trip. Stay quiet. Tad?” I look at the young alpha. “Can you take a few days off from work? Give us enough time to head up there early and scope it out?”
Tadeo presses his lips together, then nods once.
Dakota leans forward, eyes bright. “And if it’s legit?”
“Then we’ll do what we have to do to bring home an omega.”
Alex lets out a wild whoop, practically bouncing in place, while Dakota grins—quiet but electric. Tadeo exhales a slow, measured breath, like he’s torn between doubt and hope that this might actually be real.
My gaze lands on the flier, and my heart starts pounding thinking about it. We could actually claim a real, precious, beautiful omega.
Holy fuck.
Excited, I look around the kitchen. At the stray nuts andbolts littering the windowsill, the empty takeout containers balancing on top of the fridge, and the gym towel draping over the back of a chair like it belongs there. There’s even a single sock sitting in the fruit bowl. I’m not really surprised.
We can’t bring an omega into this mess.
We’re definitely going to need to clean up before we leave.
A Warehouse
Skyla
I waketo the sound of metal creaking.
It’s not loud or sharp—just the faint groan of steel cooling in the drafty air.
Everything hurts. My muscles are stiff, slow to obey, and my head throbs with a heavy, muffled pulse. The drugs they keep pumping into me make my limbs hang like lead.
Even blinking feels like work.
Hell, I don't even know how long I’ve been here. Four days? Maybe, five?
The blanket wrapped around me is scratchy, worn down to threads in some places, but I clutch it tighter. This building is freezing. The cold lives in the concrete floor, seeping up through the bars of my cage and settling in my bones.
I sit up carefully, one hand braced on the gritty floor, the other holding the blanket tight to my chest.
My leggings are damp around the knees and my tank top clings to my ribs. They're the same clothes I had onwhen Brayden handed me over. I haven't been given anything else to wear. Just this blanket, if you can even call it that, and a meager meal of bread and lunch meat twice a day.
“Please.” An omega somewhere across the warehouse starts crying. “This is a mistake. Let me call my?—”
“Quiet!” A guard barks, and she instantly goes silent. We all do. Any groans or sniffles immediately stop.
Tears blur my vision before I realize I’m crying. I blink hard, then swipe at them with the back of my hand. I won't let myself sob. Not with all the other distressed omegas around me. There must be a dozen or so others, but I’m not sure. This place is too dark to really tell. But even though I can’t see them, I know they’re as devastated and confused as I am. Crying out loud would make things worse.
Instead, I focus on breathing. In and out. Slow. Steady.
It’s okay, Skyla,I tell myself.You’ll get through this.
A sharp sting flares at my neck, and my hand drifts to my raw mating bite. It still hasn’t healed. It’s not bleeding anymore, but it’s swollen, puffy, and weirdly damp. Every time I touch it, clear fluid clings to my fingertips.
I have no idea how bad it actually is.
It doesn’t hurt. Not really. Pain zaps in and out, but it never stays.
The problem is they’ve kept me so doped up I can’t trust what I’m feeling anymore. My body is kind of numb and overly sensitive at the same time, like everything’s short-circuiting.
