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Resting my hands on my hips, I let out a huff of frustration.

Apparently, I’m doing this.

I can’t wait to explain this shit to the team tonight. “Sorry, Gav, I know I have a spotless record when it comes to mid-mission tactical decision-making. I was as shocked as you were when I finally broke after five centuries because the cat made me do it.”

I’m actually rolling my eyes at myself when I see something that makes me suck in a shocked breath.

A lock.

On the outside of the Omegas’ door.

My hands curl into fists. “That fucking bastard.”

Dax hears, because of course he does. “Who? What is it?”

Black starts to creep in around the edges of my vision. I take three hurried steps toward Idril’s door and push down on the handle, praying I’m wrong. Praying Varenthrall hasn’t actually locked his own daughter away.

The handle doesn’t budge.

Locked.

“He locked her in. There’s a fucking lock on the outside of her door. That son of a bitch!”

Most Omegas have internal locks in their nests. The ability to keep out Alphas—or any other asshole, really—is essential for an Omega’s biological need for control and safety.

But that’s not what this is. Her father locked her in. This isn’t protection. This is godsdamned possession.

This is isolation, control, and power.

“Shit,” Dax swallow thickly. “Okay, that’s… certainly a parenting choice. I’m going to point out once again, however, that it has nothing to do with you. You need to⁠—”

I’m not sure what Dax says next. I’m too lost in the fury burning through my veins. Red, hot, boiling anger pulses to the surface from somewhere deep in my chest.

A growl vibrates through my chest. My vision narrows on her door.

I can’t look away.

What the fuck is that asshole thinking? There’s no one else in this house! What if there’s a fire? Does he expect her to jump off the balcony and pray the lilies and dahlias break her fall?

Protect. Mine.

“She’s locked in,” I snarl. I know I should be concerned that my fangs have dropped, but I’m not.

I’m fucking prepared.

My Alpha rumbles with approval in my chest.

“Don’t fucking do this, Caelan.”

I know Dax can feel my rage through our Bond. I can almost taste the tension buzzing in every word.

I’m doing a piss poor job of concealing my fury, but I can’t get a handle on it. The beast inside of me is ready to tear apart anyone or anything that stands between us and the Omega in that room.

“I’m going in.”

“NO. Caelan, stop. Listen to me⁠—”

A feral sound I’ve never made before rips past my vocal cords, cutting him off.