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“You want to dowhat?”
They’re alone in the training room, practicing combat forms. Draven has him in a hold for a mere moment before Abel flips his friend on his back, barely working up a sweat. Draven looks up at Abel as if he’s lost his mind.
He probably has.
“You heard me. This shit has to end.”
“And do what, exactly?” Draven pants, looking up at him with a bewildered expression. “Even if we could…what about retaliation?”
Abel releases the hold and stands, wiping the sweat from his brow. “The nearest other Alpha base is at least twelve hours away. And it’s possible if they hear what’s happened, they won’t bother to engage.”
“They could send in reinforcements,” Draven counters, rolling up and off the mat. “We’ll be dead before your plan could work.”
“Wearethe reinforcements.” Abel grins. “There’s no one to call.”
Draven still pushes. “The police,” he tries, “what about them?”
“We have better aim and better weapons. They’ll be too busy evacuating the city, anyway. You really think a bunch of Beta officers would try to take us down?”
“Abel, what thefuck?This can’t work,” Draven hisses, his dark eyes narrowed. “This is suicide. You’re going to get yourself killed for nothing.No onewill go along with this.”
“Yes, they will. You really think anyone here is fucking happy that they have us addicted to pheromones?”
“And then what? What about the Omegas?” Draven’s voice wavers for a second, and he sees the longing in his friend’s eyes. “They’ll run screaming.”
“A moot point,” he insists. “The sirens will go off, and they will evacuate. Then, I’ll make our message known.”
“What message?”
“That we’re not monsters.”
“And what the fuck do you expect to happen after that? Abel, they willkill you,” Draven hisses. “You don’t think people have tried this before? It’s the way it is. We were dealt a shitty hand, but we have to deal with it.”
Abel shoves his friend,hard. “You know that’s not true,” he growls. “You’re giving up before you’ve even tried.”
“I’m not giving—”
“Are you happy here?”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Abel takes another step, shoving at his friend again. “Are you fucking happy here?”
“It’s not about happiness, you asshole,” Draven shoves him back, hard. “We’re not five fucking years old. We have a duty.”
“Fuckduty.”
The punch is quick and unexpected, so Abel cannot block it in time, and his mouth smarts from the pain. “I’m done,” Draven snaps. “I’m not having this fucking discussion with you. If you want to go on a suicide mission, be my guest. But don’t take me along with you.”
The rejection, along with the hit, stings, but he’s not surprised. Draven is cautious, and Abel knows it will take a while before his friend fully joins his side.
He was hoping to have someone in his corner immediately, but he might have to brave this alone for now.
It’s going to be fine. If he dies trying, so be it.
“Hey,” a voice whispers as Draven leaves. “Hey.”
