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“It contained no more than a single egg,” she revealed, “but after hundreds of years of infertility, to have two separate clutches laid within the span of a year…”
“It can’t be.” Sorin set the phone down, cradling his head in his hands as the screaming in his head kicked into high gear. “How could we have missed it? We’ve been so careful. We have eyes everywhere. We—”
“The omega wasn’t of the Pedigree,” Sandrine said, cutting him off before he could fully spiral into uncontrolled panic. “It was just like what happened with Alistair—a mistake, as best we can tell—but now that it’s happened, the council claims to have figured out how to force omegas into laying clutches, and plan to test their theory with what is detailed in this document. A so-called ‘mating experiment’ being forced upon select members of the Pedigree.”
A mating experiment.
A sick and twisted exercise in driving omegas insane.
Sorin’s head throbbed. The screaming grew shriller.
They’ll all end up like you, said the dark voice inside of him. Their eggs will be taken from them, and they’ll suffer until the day they die. You won’t be able to save them. No one will be able to save them. It doesn’t matter how hard you try.
The air left Sorin’s lungs as suddenly as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Gasping, painful pressure pounding behind his eyes, he doubled over, clutching at his hair, pulling, tugging, desperate for it to stop.
“Raven!” Sandrine cried. She scrambled up, grabbing his arm before he could topple off the cafeteria bench and onto the floor. “Medic! We need a medic! Gregoire! Dianne?!”
“No,” Sorin managed to say through gritted teeth. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just… sit with me. I need a minute to pull myself together. The screaming is getting worse.”
Sandrine came around the table and sat next to him, holding him in place while Sorin fought the darkness inside him back—but it was a losing battle. He couldn’t put distance between himself and the reality of what would happen should the experiment come to pass.
How many omegas would be cursed with this pain?
Hundreds. Maybe thousands, if dragons had their way.
And it wouldn’t stop.
The dragons would take, and take, and every omega they mated with would suffer.
They would not get to meet their children. Their babies. And the screaming—
Sorin hissed, clenching his teeth as fresh pain rolled through him.
He couldn’t let the experiment happen. He had to stop it before it was too late, even if it cost him his life.
“I’m taking you to the medical bay,” Sandrine said, tugging him up onto his feet as she stood. “You’re in no condition to be worrying about any of this right now—we can figure out how to stop this after you’ve rested, when you feel better. There’s time. These things move slowly. Even if you take some time to yourself, we’ll still have a chance to figure out how we can gain the upper hand.”
“The medics won’t be able to help,” Sorin argued. He was dizzy, disoriented, and he leaned on Sandrine heavily, depending on her to keep him upright. “They’ve never been able to help before. All they’ll do is knock me out, and I don’t want to go through the wooziness of coming off anesthesia right now. I feel sick enough as it is. Would you please just bring me to my room?”
Sandrine fussed and grumbled, but in the end, she took Sorin to his room and helped him into bed.
When she was gone, he smothered himself with his pillow and screamed until his throat was raw.
It didn’t help his head, but it did help his soul—which was good, because he needed himself as grounded as possible for the phone call he was about to make.
3
Bertram
At nine o’clock sharp that morning, while seated at a wobbly diner table in the heart of Los Angeles, Bertram’s phone lit up with a call. The name and number were both unlisted, which wasn’t all that unusual, but when the caller hung up after the third ring and called back immediately, his heart sank.
It was the pattern he and Sorin had agreed to use to indicate there was an emergency.
To make sure it was no coincidence, Bertram let the call go to voicemail and listened to the recording. There was silence for a few seconds, then prerecorded audio played—the beating of feathery wings, followed by a raven’s caw.
It was just as he feared.
He spared only enough time to glance across the diner where, four tables away, several sons of the Topaz clan head were having a loud conversation over breakfast before deciding the risk was worth it and returning Sorin’s call.
