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“Some alphas will pay a lot for that, you know? Cut off the drugs, and we wake up halfway through, not sure what’s happening. Then, if we’re lucky, they’ll dump us back on the street when it’s over and that’s if the Hounds don’t get you on the other side.”
“Hounds?” Love asked.
“Traffickers,” I said, glancing back at him. Even I knew that slang.
“Why are you gold pack?” Ebony asked. I winced at the blunt question, but I could feel he was still on edge through the bond.
Gambit set the bag down and folded his arms, finally comfortable enough to remove his hands from whatever he had tucked into his belt. His features held the boyish handsomeness of a lot of male omegas, but he looked rough around the edges. There was a jagged scar on his temple, and those bright eyes were hardened. “Because I never went for the injection.”
“You chose it?” Rook asked, surprised.
Gambit eyed him warily, then wrinkled his nose with a shrug. “It’s not like it is topside. Even if my eyes weren’t gold, doesn’t keep me safe. Seers can only identify if a dark bond was forced. If we don’t have golden eyes, it can still look legal even if we’re forced into it. Torture, blackmail—you name it. There are packs who prefer that, but if they do ever get me, with these eyes, there’s a chance I get out.”
I shivered at that thought, knowing what he meant. Gold packs, just like rogues, weren’t bound by the laws the Institute put in place. The ones that made us less prone to violence.
Gambit’s meaning was clear as day. As difficult as it might be, itwaspossible he could free himself by killing the alphas that bit him. An omega with the injection could never kill an alpha that claimed them, just like I could never kill an omega I bit.
Gambit and Vex—even Ebony, as a rogue—weren’t locked in by such rules.
An omega was in dire straights if those were the options left; if golden eyes were chosen as a warning. The question wasn’t if Gambit would be a target; it was what kind. And that, I realised, might have been the decision Vex was faced with, too.
We had to get her back.
I returned my attention to Gambit. “What year were you born?”
“’06,” he said, then winced as the age-old trick caught him. I did the math quickly.
Fuck.
Too young to be on his own in the world like this.
How old had Vex been when she perfumed? How long had she lived in a place like this? When omegas perfumed in their early teens, their heats were often delayed. If they did happen, they were mild and easily managed by over-the-counter pills. It was only when adulthood crept in that everything changed.
“Alright.” I dug in my pocket, finding one of the many little notebooks I kept with me in case I had a strike of inspiration for a part I was practising for. I jotted my number down on a page, and tore it out, pressing it into Gambit’s hand.
“Next time you’re in… trouble,” I said, avoiding the word heat. “You can call. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
He stared down at the number for a long time, jaw clenched.
“She really is your scent match?” he asked again, glancing back up at me like he wasn’t sure he believed it. “Guess it makes sense,” he added. “No other reason topsiders like you would give a fuck about one of us.”
I could practically feel the shift of my pack behind me. The discomfort through the bond at those words.
“Sheisour scent match,” I confirmed. It would, perhaps, help him trust us.
Still, he looked unsure, as if he was a moment away from handing me back the number.
“You know who we are,” I said quietly. “We don’t have any use for black market bribes. You’re Vex’s friend. If you call, we’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“He’s barely an adult,” Rook hissed as we made our way down the stairs. “We’re just leaving him there like that?”
“He has our number,” I replied. “He can call if he needs anything.”
“We can do more than that,” Rook said. “He’s too young. That room is tiny, and he’s gold pack for fuck’s sake, by himself, just like Vex was. He shouldn’t be in a place like that.”
I considered Rook curiously. “There’s a million kids like Gambit in the Gritch District. He and Vex aren’t anomalies. You can’t just go in and rip them all out of their homes.”
“That’s not a home. That’s a room. It has a fucking communal bathroom!”
