Creed

While I’m all for getting down to business, as Emily puts it, Soren and I agree to hold off until she’s completely over her heat. I know she’s worried about making him feel excluded, but she has no idea the stabilising influence she’s had on him. On all of us. I’ve watched her kiss and cuddle my mate in ways I’ve only dreamed of, and while he’s still plagued by nightmares, there’s a lightness to him that I’ve never witnessed before. Emily’s presence is like a balm to the fissures in our pack, and as soon as she’s over her heat spikes, I plan to show her exactly how perfect we can be together.

Which is why I scowl at the email I get from her father during breakfast the next day. I’d question the timing, except I’ve heard on the grapevine he’s retiring soon and going into private practice with one of his packmates. Selling PsyOps secrets to the highest bidder, no doubt, so that some CEO can brainwash his workforce into doing twice the work at half the pay. Finn might not exactly be a people person, but when it comes to his employees, most of us would take a bullet to protect him.

Brigadier Nash, on the other hand, has always considered Finn a thorn in his side. Too powerful for him to fuck with and too connected to just ignore. Finn’s clout with the army might have taken a hit since he started to dismantle Vast Horizons, but they’re not stupid enough to take him on directly. Ex-operators have always found a home either working for him or through his extensive network of contacts, which means that if he felt like calling us up, he’d have a highly skilled, highly motivated private army at his back.

So why does Brigadier Nash want me to bring his daughter to a meeting, on base, and why is the request worded in a way that sounds more like an order than an invitation?

I wait until the others have dispersed before approaching Emily. She’s dressed for the office in a cute skirt suit and perky ponytail, and when I show her the email on my phone, a hint of hurt seeps into her sweet scent. “Why did he contact you instead of me? And how does he even know about us?”

I’d assume the brigadier has kept tabs on his family over the years, if I didn’t know he’s a heartless fuck. More likely he’s monitoring my pack, which pisses me off for both personal and professional reasons. “That’s something I intend to ask him. I can go on my own, if it’s easier…”

“Nothing is easy about my father.” She tilts her face up, a world of hurt in those wide hazel eyes. Yep, her old man is not long for this world if he keeps putting that look on her face. “I’ll go with you, but we need to do it today. I want it over and done with as soon as possible.”

As do I, in as permanent a way as I can make it, but there’s still the issue of her heat. “He’ll be able to tell you’re an omega,” I say carefully. This whole conversation is picking at old wounds given his history of designation abuse, and I scowl at the thought of him using this new information against her. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait a couple of days?”

“No, I can’t.” She lifts her shoulders and gives me a determined look. “I need him out of my head, , once and for all.”

I reach over and kiss her temple, because it deserves a hell of a lot better than to be haunted by her father. “Then let’s go put that fucker in the rear vision mirror.”

Finn and Lang aren’t thrilled about me taking Emily to the SAS base in Longbeach, but one glance at her face and they know better than to try to stop her. She spends a half hour in the bedroom talking to Derek and Soren, then walks into Finn’s office dressed in tight black jeans, a Sweet Addiction tee, and one of Lang’s biker jackets. She’s taken a suppressant to mask her scent, but the wave of pheromones she sets off triggers all of Finn’s overprotective instincts, and I can tell he’s about a second away from insisting he comes along as her personal bodyguard.

But a riled-up Finn Visser on a base full of heavily armed alphas is a national incident in the making.

“You’ve been to your father’s office on base?” I ask Emily as Lang wraps her in his arms, his face buried in her red curls. She’s taken her hair out of its cute ponytail, and even suppressed, her scent is clearly amping up their mating bond.

“Only once, and it was a while ago,” she admits, rubbing her hands down Lang’s back. “He’s had a couple of promotions since then, so he might be in a different part of the base.”

“That’s fine. He’s organised access, and your clearance covers the mandatory induction. You’ll just need to show some ID.”

She nods, and Finn steps forward, his face purposely blank. “They’ll confiscate your phones and scan you for electronic devices,” he says, holding out a hand with the palm facing up, “but their tracking tech isn’t as good as mine, so they won’t know to look for this.”

Emily cocks a brow as she stares at the tiny white pill in his hand. “What does it track?”

“Everything. Your location, your vitals. I’ll know where you are and how you’re feeling at any given time.”

I’m pretty sure Emily is teasing as she flutters her lashes at him. “If you wanted to monitor my heartbeat, Finn, you could just give me a claiming bite.”

“Highly recommended,” Lang growls, nuzzling into his own mark on her neck. “In fact, three bites should be enough to deter even the biggest meathead on base.”

He looks meaningfully at us both, and I shuffle my feet, more than okay with us being delayed another hour or so, but when Finn stays silent, the smile dims in Emily’s eyes. “Fine. Give me the tracker.” She studies the tiny device, her nerves bleeding into her scent and giving it a burnt edge. “It’s not going to do anything weird to my insides, is it?”

“No, and you won’t even notice when it passes out of your system in the next couple of days.”

“Ew. Okay.” She pulls a face but swallows it back and then shrugs in my direction. “Do you get one, too?”

“I had mine with breakfast,” I quip, since I don’t think she wants to know how many permanent trackers I have implanted in my body. “Ready to go?”

She nods, and we head to the door, Lang still holding her close while Finn’s shoulder brushes mine. He waits until they’ve stepped out onto the verandah before he murmurs, “He tries anything at all, you get her out of there and we’ll deal with him later.”

“I doubt he’s going to ambush us,” I murmur back, but then think of that gleam of hurt in her eyes. “Or not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Psychological warfare.” Finn is clearly on the same page, his jaw tight as he watches Emily descend the stairs, her arm looped around Lang’s waist. “Just make sure he knows she belongs to us.”

I pause at the railing and grip his shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother. I couldn’t hide that from him if I tried.”

The drive to the base is a straight line down the coast, and Emily spends most of it staring out the window, lost in thought. I’m driving the most alpha car in our fleet – a Shelby Mustang in cherry-red that perfectly matches Emily’s boots. It has white racing stripes and the kind of souped-up engine that will have the guards on the gate drooling in envy. Not only is it always useful to advertise the perks of Finn’s employment, but I want their greedy eyes focused on the car, not its precious cargo. And they seem suitably distracted as we enter the base, our credentials getting us past the gatehouse and into a reception area. A couple of MPs pat us down, and since they don’t let their hands linger on Emily for long, we get through to her father’s office without leaving any broken bones in our wake.

The brigadier is a tall guy, but years behind a desk have taken some of the steel out of his spine. I’m not shy about looming over him when he gets to his feet, but he ignores my display of dominance, his cold eyes fixed on his daughter. He radiates narcissism the way a cane toad oozes deadly poison, and it takes a lot not to step between them as he extends a hand in Emily’s direction. “It’s good to see you again, my dear.”

“I can’t say the same, honestly.” Emily’s fists are stuffed in her pockets, leaving her father hanging as she sits in a visitor chair. There’s a framed portrait of his new pack on the desk in front of her, and I watch the colour drain out of her cheeks as she stares at it. “Let’s just cut to the chase so we can both get on with our day.”

“Fine.” He shoots me a dismissive glance as he resumes his seat. “Thank you for bringing my daughter to me, Captain, but you can wait in the hall until we’re done.”

“She’s only here as long as she wants to be, and I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, taking up position behind her chair. “So, like she said, why don’t you cut to the chase and tell us why we’re here?”

“Alright. But first let me begin by saying that I approve of your pack choice, my dear.” Despite the grim look on my face, he only has eyes for Emily. “I would’ve thought Finn Visser was a little out of your league, but your mother tells me you caught the eye of his professor friend. That was a very clever move, playing on his loyalties.”

I stroke my thumbs over Emily’s shoulder blades; a private offering to slam her father’s face into the desk if she so desires. But she just makes a sound that’s half-dismissive, half-incredulous. “What makes you think I want your opinion on my pack?’

“Well, you were obviously looking for one with military connections. I’m assuming that’s because of my influence in your formative years.”

“If I like the company of soldiers, it has more to do with how Dee brought me up, not the crap you put me through as a kid.” She tips her head back to look up at me. I’m relieved to see that injured gleam has hardened into something more predatory, although she gives me a soft smile as she says, “In my experience, there are two sort of soldiers: self-adulating egotists who worship war from behind their desks, and the warriors on the frontline who put service before self.”

I couldn’t have put it better myself, and I watch her father’s face tighten at the insult. I’m still not sure what his agenda is here, but his scent thickens, like metal that’s starting to rust. “And yet the only bite on your neck is from the professor,” he muses. “How do you explain that the others haven’t claimed you yet? Is it because they’re waiting for a real omega to come along, do you think?”

The way he emphasises the word ‘real’ has the hackles rising on the back of my neck. “Watch it!”

But Emily is up and whirling out of her seat before I can reach for him. “Forget it. He’s not worth it.” Her steely gaze cuts back to her father. “Are we done here, or do you have any more insults you want to toss my way?”

“Not insults, but some fatherly advice.” He looks at me with a curl of his lip. “Soldiers are a dime a dozen, Emily, but Finn Visser is in a league of his own. Lock him down before he realises you’re as mediocre as that man you’re standing next to.”

“Fuck you,” she hisses, grabbing my hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “ is ten times the man you’ll ever be.”

The brigadier waves off the insult, his gaze dropping to a list on his blotter. Conversation topics, I realise, watching in disbelief as he draws a red line through the top one. “You also need to tell your mother I’m cutting her off,” he goes on. “The allowance you’re getting from Finn Visser will have to stretch to cover her costs as well.”

I can feel Emily straining towards the door, but she pauses to frown at him, an angry blush climbing her neck. “What are you talking about? You left Mum without a cent to her name.”

“I’ve paid Lorelei two thousand a month every year since we parted ways,” he counters, then leans forward with a chuckle. “Oh, she didn’t tell you, did she? Your mother always had an impressively ingrained selfish streak.”

“We’re leaving,” I growl, but we haven’t taken a step before he rises to his feet.

“Captain, tell your alpha that if he persists in meddling with Vast Horizons, we’ll be forced to look more closely at the Hill boy’s contract. Since he departed the program early, he’ll need to either complete it in its entirety, or turn himself in to be examined for feral tendencies.” His cold eyes settle back on his daughter, and he gives a dismissive sniff. “It would be remiss of us to let designation mutations roam freely through the community.”

I’m tempted to cut off his nose rather than let him scent her again, but he’s still a senior officer and we’re still standing on an active base.

Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.

“So, it’s true,” I say with a sneer. “You’re taking a job with that bunch of champs?” He actually puffs up his chest, and I wonder if he’s so out of touch he forgot it’s soldier slang for a 'Cunt Has A Mental Problem'. “Well, here’s a word of advice to the shittiest father I’ve ever met.” With a flick of my wrist, I knock his pack portrait off the edge of his desk. “Make sure you read the fine print on your life insurance policy, or you just might find yourself leaving another pack high and dry.”

Emily doesn’t say another word until we’re off base and then she waves at the window, gesturing for me to pull over. I quickly comply, and she leaps out of the car, staring down at the ocean as she takes in gulps of brisk, salty air. I can’t tell if the tears on her cheeks are from the wind or her arsehole father, but I put my arm around her just the same. “God, I hope everything I’ve ever learned about genetics is a lie,” she sniffs, pressing her face to my chest, “because that man is a world-class wanker.”

I chuckle at the slur, although she’s spot on with the personality assessment. As to her genetics, I’m more a fan of nurture over nature, and it sounds like her sister Claudia is the real deal. “Forget him. He’s done.”

Literally , if I have anything to do with it, but she pulls back to stare up at me with worried eyes. “I can’t believe he threatened Soren like that. How does he even know about you two?”

“He doesn’t. Not the mating part, anyway.” I pause, swiping a tear off her cheek and staring at it in frustration. Finn needs to have a proper conversation with Emily, so I don’t feel like I’m always dancing across a minefield. “But Finn pulled some strings to get him out of the program, and I’m sure your father knows we’re still in touch.”

“And can he really force Soren back into the program?”

Not without killing me first, but I don’t think that’s what she needs to hear now. “It will never happen. We’d expose their bullshit before they got that far.”

She presses a hand to my chest, right over Soren’s mating bite. For once, I’m glad it wasn’t visible, because if her father knew I’d been claimed during a rut, he’d be well within his rights to detain me while the MPs went to fetch Soren.

“I want to get back into the lab as soon as possible,” she says, her brow furrowed in thought. “There has to be a way to make Soren’s designation bulletproof, so arseholes like my father can’t ever threaten him again.”

“We get him through his next heat and he should be good,” I tell her, hoping that Finn’s theory is really the answer to our prayers.

She nods and we return to the car, but her gaze has grown distant by the time she buckles herself in. “For some reason, I actually thought he might apologise to me. How is that for stupidly na?ve?”

I grind my teeth at her sad little chuckle and make a snap decision. “Do you mind if we make a stop before we head home?

“No, of course not.” She sighs and rests her head against the window. “I just might not be the best company, though.”

“Then we’re going to the right place.”

She just makes a humming sound while I drive us through the back streets around the base, finally coming to stop outside some of the old military housing. She looks curiously at the small bungalow as we head through the garden gate, taking in the high fence and the row of dog bowls lined up near the door. When I knock on the door, one of the volunteers opens it with a smile. I give her my name and as she ushers us in, I watch Emily’s brows go up as she sniffs the air.

“This is Pets for Vets,” I tell her quietly as we pass a reception desk and head into one of the large playrooms at the back. “They foster out animals to returned soldiers and veterans who are doing it tough.”

Emily’s eyes light up as the volunteer leads us over to a golden retriever pup in a training vest. He’s being put through some basic commands, but the scent of new people has him dashing around our ankles until Emily leans against me with a laugh. While the volunteer tries to distract her charge from our boot laces, I turn her gently by the shoulders so she’s looking at the other corner of the room. “They’re therapy cats. They foster them out, too, but they’re always looking for permanent homes for them. I’ve had my eye on this cutie pie for a while.”

I draw her over to a little tabby cat with white paws and a patch on her forehead like a dollop of paint. She’s on the top platform of a scratching post, rolling to show us her furry belly as she stretches in the sunlight coming through the window. “Her name is Biscuit, because she’s the kind of ration you don’t just give away to anyone.”

The tiny cat licks her lips and studies Emily like she’s her new best friend. “You’re serious? You’re going to take her home?”

“ We’re going to take her home, if you want to.” I reach out and rub the kitten’s belly, smiling as her tiny claws sink into my wrist. She might be an orphan that a volunteer dug out of a scrapyard, but she already knows her place in the world. “As long as you teach her not to stick her nose in a hive.”

“Charles Darwin considered cats essential for the survival of bumble bees,” she says softly, creeping forward to lay her hand over mine. The mixture of excitement and hesitation in her eyes makes my chest pinch. “I always wanted one, but Mum is allergic. One cat hair could blow her up like a balloon, or so she said.”

I think of the other things her mother said – including the fact that she lied about her allowance while her kids went without. But warmth blooms in my chest at the thought of giving Emily something her parents withheld from her. “I can set up a cat run in the yard, when she gets bigger, but I’m guessing this princess will be a bit of a housecat.”

“Can you imagine her in our nest?” Emily gasps, finally letting her fingers sink into the kitten’s fur. Biscuit clearly knows which side her bread is buttered, because she leaps off the post and straight into Emily’s waiting arms. “,” she mumbles as she buries her face in the squirming mound of fur. “Thank you so much. For this little cutie, but also for coming with me today.”

There are tears on her cheeks again, but it’s Biscuit’s turn to wipe them away, her tiny tongue rasping on her skin and making Emily laugh. “Anytime you need me, I’m yours. Just say the word.”

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