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Savaged, surrounded by strange alphas, Serafina doesn’t flinch. “I want drugs and coconut water.”
“Where is she?” I bark.
My patience is for my real mate.
Not this fake.
Serafina sucks a breath through the gaps in her teeth. Instead of answering, she tightens her jaw until it clicks. After a few hissing breaths, she shakily exhales. “Fucking alphas. You’re all the same. All bark, no manners.”
I don’t retract my dominance until Serafina starts to shake, sweating through blood. It’s not all hers—Kairo’s peppercorn and Jericho’s pond water swirl with Serafina’s hard lemonade—but enough is hers. The more Serafina resists, the more she pales. I have to let go or risk her passing out.
She has the information, so she has the power.
For now.
I holster my whip, swallowing a slicing growl.
When she relaxes, Bish swoops in. He’s so intent that his boots smudge the blood freckling the floor tiles. “I’ll give you a private island of palm trees and the key to the hospital pharmacy. What happened to our mate?”
“An island, the key, and someone find my fucking teeth.” Serafina licks blood from her swollen lips. “I’m going to shove them in my father-in-law’s orifices.”
“Nice. We’ll be tooth fairies.” Finn yanks Dutch back into the hospital room swarming with Wyverns while Bish and I breathe heavy air, waiting for Reese to find a key.
Serafina doesn’t make a sound until Reese returns and lets her free. Then she hisses, carefully disentangling from the sink pipe.
“Jericho’s ripped-out throat.” Reese jerks his chin. “That your work?”
“So was his spine.” Serafina grins, oozing blood between her teeth.
Reese whistles. “You cut his brakes?”
She winces, pushing upright. Her leg is twisted, and she favors obvious broken fingers. Every shift hits another injury, but I don’t swing protective for the omega.
Wariness tenses my shoulders.
Serafina Redfang is some kind of victim, but she reads like a feral raccoon. She doesn’t care if she can win. Corner her, and she’ll claw out your eyes.
“What happened?” I keep my voice even. Not threatening. Not coaxing. Neither will work with this omega. “How did you end up here?”
“Fabulous question.” Serafina pushes her blood-streaked ponytail over her shoulder. “Stop Nikolaj Redfang from finding out I survived, and I’ll answer twenty more just like it.”
“Done. He’s dead.”
Her green eyes narrow. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fucking cargo pants,” Bish mutters, reaching into his pockets. He pulls out a gold lighter shellacked with a gaudy ruby R. “Do you believe this?”
She snatches it, ignoring broken fingers to flick the lid and summon a flame. After a long stare, she blows it out like a birthday candle, grinning like a girl whose wish came true. “How?”
“Your sister.” I fight to stay even when all I want to do is shake her down for answers. “If you want to say thank you, help us bring her home.”
“Ask. Anything.” She passes the lighter to Bish, scrubs her palms on her ripped dress, and beams. “Best fucking day of my life.”
“Where’s Marisol?” I ask.
Serafina shrugs one shoulder. “We haven’t crossed paths since she fucked up my escape plan.”
“Start at the beginning,” Bishop says. “Why are you here instead of her?”
