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He shoots.
The dart hits my thigh before I can dodge.
I rip it out, flexing pheromones.
He fogs his mask, spluttering. The alphas shoot, firing wide. Silas’ last-ditch shot grazes my ribs through my gown, cutting a line of ice and fire.
In heavy-duty suits, they hold out longer than the last batch of alphas. My pheromones fly loose. It’s easier to use them than to not.
The hardest part is moving when all I want to do is take fetal position—preferably inside an igloo.
I advance, sweating.
When I make it close enough to tip the alphas over, they’re already on the ground.
Brandon wheezes, taking a knee. His gun fell, and his fingers shake too hard to pick it up again. He watches me wide-eyed—like he’s never seen me before.
He hasn’t.
Not the real thing.
My hair wild. No fake smile, because I’ve no plans to deal with him again tomorrow.
Even spinning with the heat, I’ve never been more me.
I bend to release his mask, but a scream kills my reach.
Commander Fissure sprints to rescue her mate. Her plastic sugar flares like corpse-flowers—sweetness twisted with rot. “Twenty-Six—”
“You gave birth to me, and you can’t even say my name?” I dodge behind Brandon, loving this chance to use him as a meat shield.
Bridget Fissure goes rigid—she really didn’t know I knew. Setting her jaw, she unholsters her tranq gun. “You’re that man’s child. Not mine.”
The garage spins.
Sweat drips down my back.
I’m fading fast. But I’m not going anywhere, yet. “You can’t say his name either? Even though you fu—”
“I never should’ve let you live.” Her perfume sharpens, nauseatingly sweet.
“Agreed. You’re the one who made the mistake. Not me.”
I sway. I need to run, not argue.
But just once.
Just let me crack her open, one time.
She’s close. Gun shaking. Blood flaming in her perfect, porcelain cheeks. “You’re exactly like him. No conscience. No remorse. No shame.”
“Shame? Me?” I laugh, bitter and boiling. Someone’s been huffing their own perfume. “I get it. You went into heat with the wrong alpha. But then you let the same thing happen to me?” I grip my stomach against the clenching, rolling cramps. “You tracked me, right? If I hadn’t awakened as a gamma, you never would’ve picked me up that night.”
“That would have been for the best. Criminal mates for a criminal’s daughter.” Her gun shakes with the hate slowly cracking her military mask. “Step away from my alphas. If you cooperate, this doesn’t have to hurt.”
My vision blurs, but I’m weirdly unhurried. With Brandon’s body blocking her shot, I duck to grab his gun. “I tried cooperating. It hurt. A lot.”
I get it now.
