I time their patrol pattern, counting the seconds between passes. Thirty seconds of visibility, then a gap while they walk to the next section. When the flashlights move away, I sprint across the open lawn, my bare feet silent on the grass. I make it to the cover of another hedge just as the lights sweep back.
The outer wall looms ahead. It’s maybe twelve feet high, smooth stone with decorative carvings that might give me handholds if I’m lucky. There’s a statue near the base, some kind of Greek goddess holding an urn. I use it as a stepping stone, climbing onto her outstretched arm and then reaching for the top of the wall.
My fingers find purchase on the carved stonework. I haul myself up, muscles burning from the effort, and swing my leg over the top. For a second I’m silhouetted against the sky, completely exposed, and I half expect to hear shouts or gunfire.
Nothing.
I drop down the other side, landing in a crouch in a narrow alley that runs behind the mansion. My feet sting from the impact on the rough pavement, but I’m out. I’m actually out.
I take off running, not looking back, putting as much distance between myself and Suha’s mansion as possible. The alley opens onto a side street, and I recognize the neighborhood. Gangnam, one of the wealthy districts. I’m maybe three miles from Wooil’s pawn shop if I cut through the right neighborhoods.
The night air is cold against my skin and I’m acutely aware of how I must look. Barefoot, wearing clothes that don’t fit, with a leather collar locked around my throat. But I don’t care. I’m free.
I think about Suha coming back from his dinner meeting, walking into his bedroom expecting to find me waiting in the cage like a good little pet. I imagine his face when he sees the empty cage, the picked lock, the missing clothes from his closet.
The thought makes me grin despite my aching feet and the adrenaline still flooding my system.
See? Not useless. Not just a warm hole. I got into his hotel room, I tracked his entire operation, and now I’ve escaped from his supposedly secure mansion.
Fuck you, Suha.
I duck down another alley, heading toward the main road where I can catch a bus or flag down a taxi. My feet are bleeding now, leaving small smears on the pavement, but I don’t slow down. I need to get home, need to figure out my next move.
Because Suha is going to come looking for me. I know that with absolute certainty. He’s possessive and controlling and we’re bonded, which means he needs me, even if he doesn’t want to. He’ll tear the city apart to find me.
But right now, in this moment, I’m free. And that’s worth whatever hell he’s going to rain down on me when he catches up.
If he catches up.
I’m not planning on making it easy for him.
Ipush through the back door of Wooil’s pawn shop around mid-morning, the satisfying buzz of freedom in my bones. I managed to make it back to my current apartment last night and crashed hard for ten solid hours. Showered, changed into my own clothes, grabbed my cigarettes and almost grabbed my phone charger before remembering it will have to be replaced. I felt like a fucking king sleeping in my own bed again, even if it’s just a shitty futon on the floor.
The bell above the door doesn’t even finish closing before Wooil’s head snaps up and he spins behind the counter. His eyes go wide, then his face cycles through about fifteen different emotions in the span of three seconds—relief, fury, disbelief, more fury.
“You absolute fucking—” He stomps toward me. “Where thefuckhave you been?!”
I hold up my hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Don’t you sunshine me!” Wooil jabs a finger into my chest hard enough to hurt. “You disappear fortwo weekswith zero contact, your phone goes straight to voicemail, and I thought—I actually thought you’d finally gone and gotten yourself killed this time!”
His voice cracks slightly on the last word and I feel a twinge of guilt. Wooil’s been my friend since we were teenagers running scams in Hongdae, and I know my lifestyle gives him gray hairs he’s too young to have.
“I’m fine, see?” I spread my arms, showing off my intact body. Well, mostly intact. The bite marks and bruises from Suha are still visible on my neck and wrists, fading but present. “Still breathing and everything.”
Wooil’s eyes narrow as he takes in the marks. His gaze sharpens, that shrewd intelligence that makes him so good at what he does kicking into gear. “Those are fresh. Or fresher than they should be from your little hotel adventure.” He crosses his arms. “Start talking. Now.”
I sigh and wander over to his mini fridge, helping myself to a can of coffee. “Remember the gangster alpha I may have accidentally bonded?”
“The one you stalked and tricked into knotting you? Yeah, vaguely rings a bell.” Wooil’s sarcasm could cut glass.
“Well, turns out he figured out we’re bonded.” I crack open the can and take a long drink. “And he wasn’t super thrilled about it.”
Wooil goes very still. “Define ‘not super thrilled.’“
“He had his goons chase me down, shot me with a paralytic dart, threw me in his trunk, and took me back to his mansion.” I lean against the counter, keeping my tone casual even though my heart rate picks up remembering it. “Interrogated me, thought I was a spy for a rival gang. When I convinced him Iwasn’t, he decided since we’re bonded anyway he might as well keep me as a pet.”
The color drains from Wooil’s face. “Hewhat?”
