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My body gives out, and I collapse on my side. Pulling my legs to my chest, I curl into the tightest ball I can—just like when I was a little girl.

“You bastard!” Branwen shouts, and I get the feeling she’s been shouting for a while, possibly since before Dax’s Command left his mouth. I can’t see her, but I can sense her. Can feel the gentle touch of her fingers sweeping sweat-soaked tendrils of hair away from my face.

“You bloody fucking asshole!”

“All she had to do was answer the question. The Command would have lifted. She—I—I didn’t know that would happen. She was fighting—it—it shouldn’t have happened!”

Daxen’s voice is tight, almost frantic.

Which makes no sense. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He set a trap, knowing biology would force me to respond, and he’s surprised it worked?

Branwen’s arms wrap around me, and she tries to urge me to sit up, but I moan, shaking my head. I can’t move. Not yet.

“Why isn’t she opening her eyes?”

“Back. The. Fuck. Up. I will stab you in the dick if you take another step.”

“I told you, Omega. I was unaware⁠—”

“Eat shit and die, Alpha.”

Gods, it’s so hot. When did I start sweating? I can feel it pooling on my lower back, making my shirt stick to my skin.

“Someone call Calder. Get him up here. Gav⁠—”

“Daxen, calm down. Look. She’s opening her eyes.”

I don’t know if that’s true, or if Gavran can see the future, or if I simply imagined his voice, but the result is the same. My vision begins to clear, the black haze receding as the world comes into focus.

I blink and Branwen’s here, snaking an arm around my back to support me as I move, determined to get off the floor. Panting, I reach out and grasp onto the arms of my chair in front of me, using it and Branwen to heave my shaking limbs into my seat.

The Alpha’s attention is a heavy weight on my back, but at this point, I don’t care about looking weak. I don’t care about much of anything after what just happened.

“That was manipulation.” Branwen hasn’t stopped arguing since I opened my eyes, firing accusation after accusation at the Alphas, but especially Gav.

I try to speak, but my mouth is too dry, and nothing comes out. Not even swallowing helps, and after my third failed attempt to speak, I give up. I lick my lips, tasting salt on my tongue. I lift my fingers to my face. Wet.

When did I start crying?

Next to me, Branwen explodes from her chair. It flies backward, skidding across the floor to slam against the wall behind us. She doesn’t seem to notice, though. With hands planted on her hips, she leans in until she’s less than six inches away from Gavran. “Fuck all the way off, Commander Cockup. She’s done. Her system can’t handle another Command.”

Gavran swallows thickly. For the first time, I see a crack in his mask, and I hold my breath, praying for him to do the right thing and put an end to this.

I don’t think any of us are expecting Silas to take matters into his own hands. He stands, and for whatever reason the movement registers as something worrisome enough to demand Daxen’s attention. It’s like some kind of pre-disaster warning goes off and his head snaps to the side, grey eyes flying straight to Silas.

Whatever he sees on the other Alpha’s face has Daxen’s draining of color.

I can only assume his emotions leak through the Pack Bond because in less than a breath, Vae, too, goes on high alert.

What’s happening? What can they sense that I can’t?

Time slows to a crawl.

Silas opens his mouth. As he begins to speak, Daxen’s eyes widen in panic. He lunges across the table—to do what, exactly, I’ll probably never know.

It’s too late.