He stepped back, watching realization flicker across my face.
I shrugged one shoulder, trying to hide the tremor in my chest. "I was under the influence and didn’t know what I was saying. So it cannot be considered consent."
He leaned against the table as if he owned the room, a pale blue shirt tucked into loose black pants that sohow made him more dangerous than any armor. "So," his voice was calm, unreadable, "what is your decision?"
I inhaled, bracing myself. "I wish to leave with Mr—my mate."
His gaze pinned , slow and deliberate. Then, with a chill that slid under my skin, he said, "Very well. Jasper, take her with you."
My eyes widened. Just like that? No conditions? No punishnt?
Jasper’s hand closed around mine — gentle, firm — and pulled toward the door. We slipped from the conference room. My heart thudded so hard I thought he’d hear it. Even as Jasper guided , I kept looking back, expecting the man to storm out, furious and relentless, to drag back into that room.
He didn’t. Not once.
We reached the Pack’s car park where a sleek black SUV waited. Jasper opened the passenger door for with a swift, protective gesture. I hesitated on the threshold, disbelief and fragile hope tangling in my chest. Could I actually be leaving by choice?
Jasper slid behind the wheel and started the engine. His calm smile broke the silence. "Are we going to see Gideon?" I asked, my voice small.
"Yes," he said warmly. "He’s waiting in my cabin."
Relief fluttered up, tainted by a ribbon of dread. "Thank you," I whispered as the SUV rolled away.
Minutes later the vehicle veered off the main road and into the trees, following a narrow track until a cabin rose between the trunks—a two-storey duplex of polished mahogany that looked almost too elegant for the wilderness. Jasper cut the engine, climbed out, and led toward it with a steady hand. He stopped at the door, brow furrowing.
"What is this?" he muttered, fingers brushing the handle. "I locked this."
"Isn’t Gideon inside?" I asked, unease creeping up my spine.
"No. He said he’d et us here."
He pushed the door open and we stepped into a stillness that felt wrong. The only sound ca from the fireplace, a low crackle. The living room was sparse: three wooden chairs and a center table. Jasper closed his eyes and inhaled, then frowned. "I can’t catch their scent," he said softly. "They’re dangerous."
My stomach dropped. If he couldn’t sll them, they were powerful—more than we’d expected.
As he climbed the stairs, he suddenly froze and clutched his chest. A strangled groan escaped him, then another, louder. He sank to his knees.
I rushed to him, helpless. He was in agony and there was nothing I, an Oga without training, could do.
"What’s happening? What can I do?" I demanded, watching him growl between gasps.
"It’s poison," he rasped.
"Poison? Where—how?"
"Soone poisoned the air." His growls escalated, raw and animal.
I spun, searching the room. Why wasn’t I affected?
He began coughing blood—first a trickle from his nose, then a thin spray. Panic lodged in my throat. "What can I get you? Tell —please."
A presence settled behind , accompanied by a scent I knew too well. I turned slowly.
He sat on the couch, legs crossed, hands folded over the back as if he had nowhere else to be. He stared at the way soone stares at a piece of property they’ve found slightly scuffed.
"Alpha Dawn?" My voice ca out like a question I didn’t want to have to ask.
"Did you enjoy your little attempt at escape?" He inclined his head, gaze intense.
"What are you doing here?"
He rose while Jasper trembled behind , clutching his chest. "To fetch you."
I looked at Jasper. "Release him."
"Don’t worry," Alpha Dawn said, voice smooth, "he’ll be fine."
"He’s dying!" My shout cracked through the quiet.
"Darling," he crossed the room and stopped inches from , "he knew the consequences of daring to take you from ."
"Please, just release him. This is my fault. I planned this—" I rushed the confession out, desperate.
"How did you et my brother?" he asked, stepping into my space.
My throat closed. Gideon connected us, but I could not tell him that.
"I bumped into him," I lied.
"You’re lying." His voice was flat and certain. Of course he could tell. Of course he knew.
"Okay. I’m sorry. Just release Jasper, please."
Behind , Jasper’s growls turned into ragged breaths. He was failing fast.
"You’re sorry for what?" Alpha Dawn asked, hands in his pockets, eyes like knives.
"For trying to escape." My lips trembled.
A beat. "Okay. I forgive you."
Relief almost buckled . Then he smiled thinly. "I tried to get the truth out of you, but you chose to lie. So I’ll take matters into my own hands."
He whistled once. Two n appeared and wheeled soone in on a wheelchair. My heart slamd so hard I thought it would burst when I saw who it was.
Gideon—unconscious, still wearing the t-shirt and jeans from earlier.
I fell to my knees. "Please, Alpha Dawn. Please don’t—he’s my only family." Tears stung my eyes.
"You keep doing things I tell you not to. This has to be a lesson." He nodded to one of the n. The man opened a briefcase I hadn’t noticed and withdrew a syringe filled with a sludgy green liquid.
My stomach turned. "What is that?"
"Xeres," Alpha Dawn said. "A toxin that paralyzes organs. Made specially for Ogas."
"No—"
Alpha Dawn raised the syringe to his neck.
Adrenaline detonated inside . I lunged, muscles moving before my mind did, and knocked the syringe aside. A force—sudden and alien—burst out of . I shoved Alpha Dawn backward with a power I hadn’t known I had. He flew through the air, crashing through the glass that separated the room from the outside, shattering into the trees beyond with a howl.
I stared at the wreckage, at the gaping hole in the wall, and at Jasper still kneeling, bleeding from his nose, gasping for air.
Sothing inside had just changed.
Reviews
All reviews (0)