Chapter 36
thirty-six
DANE
I don’t like this.
Or, rather, my Alpha doesn’t like it.
He paces restlessly, nudging my anxiety higher with every pass.
There’s something wrong here, but I can’t put my finger on what.
The evening has been as dull and pompous as all the other Blackwood Corp affairs our pack is forced to attend. The only difference, this time, is being on our own turf. Knowing I have full control over the security, the surveillance system, the staff… It should help.
For all her pouting, Briar is a good girl, too. She doesn’t try to make a scene or sneak out. In fact, she mostly keeps to herself, observing the party with her sharp eyes. Absorbing it.
Honing those knives of hers, no doubt.
Despite everything running smoothly, Cillian seems even more tense than me. The guy may be our pack alpha, but he forgets I’ve been his best friend for more than half his life. I see the tension roiling under his bored expression. I sense the impatience bubbling beneath his casual glances.
His grandfather waits until we’re seeing him out to drop his voice to a low rumble. “This month’s shipment went according to plan?”
I resist the urge to snort behind my mask. If by “according to plan” he means we dropped off the weapons he promised those disgusting excuses for men, took their money, then tracked them for two days so I could hunt them down last night and rid the earth of their worthless souls once and for all…
“Yes,” Cillian replies, smooth as ever. “Your funds were wired on Friday.”
With a hefty portion skimmed off the top.
Rhys has the whole system hacked, at this point. He keeps track of what we tell the corporation we’re charging, the actual amounts we extort from shitty criminals, and how much we can hide in our pack’s accounts.
This whole Robin-Hood-meets-vigilante thing was Rhys’s idea, actually. When his adoptive “grandfather” assigned the Blackwood’s criminal operations to our pack, Cillian was prepared to walk away. Give up his rights to this house, his trust fund, the company.
But Rhys was a sneaky bastard straight out of law school. He knew all the rules—and exactly how to break them. Cillian knew how to show face and play the part of the obedient would-be heir.
And I knew how to kill people.
There’s a lot of that, with what we do. And Rhys’s plan is brilliant, because I don’t even have to hunt the fuckers down. They come to us willingly. Begging to do business with us under the table.
Having no idea we track every weapon we sell them, overcharge to embezzle half of what they pay, and engineer detailed designs to off them later.
This week’s bullshit was especially gruesome.
But when I saw what the group had in store for their next “shipment” of human capital, it was impossible to restrain myself.
I probably wouldn’t have lost a second of sleep over it, honestly, if not for worrying about what Briar would think if she saw what a beast I truly am.
Where is our omega, anyway?
Forsyth listens to Cillian’s practiced lies, nodding brusquely as he reaches the exit. Once he’s in his Bentley, there are only a handful of stragglers for Coggins to escort out.
As the last of the invaders teeter drunkenly to their hired cars, a security guard comes rushing into the foyer. The front doors slam as he reaches us, panting, “Your—Mrs. Blackwood. She’s in the garden. I would have gone after her, but—”
—but I threatened all of them within an inch of their lives.
Thunder rolls ominously, reflecting the expression on Cillian’s face. “No,” he clips. “I will retrieve her. Clear the premises.”
The underling goes for the phone on his belt so he can spread the word. Our pack alpha strides toward the ballroom and its open back doors, tugging at his bowtie with agitated movements that immediately put me on edge.
“You two stay—” he tries, but a growl rips up my throat and Rhys barks a laugh.
“Get fucked,” he says. “You can hire as many guards as you want to watch your precious wife, but I’ll go where I damn well please.”
“Since when do you care about what Briar does?” I grit behind my mask. “You fucked her and then spent the rest of the week avoiding her.”
Rhys sneers. “No one said I fucked her. Or that I cared. But we’ve invested in her. I’d rather not lose a valuable asset.”
It’s bullshit. He doesn’t see Briar as valuable—and neither did anyone else at this party. Which makes no goddamn sense, come to think of it. Didn’t Cillian do all of this to wave her in our rivals’ faces?
Our pack alpha mutters as we round the last corner, shaking his head. “I want to know where the hell she went for an hour. And why is she outside now? She could have made a scene during the party, if she wanted to.”
Unless she isn’t trying to make a scene. Maybe she’s genuinely upset.
The storm brewing inside me rivals the heavy clouds swirling through the night sky. A flash of lightning splits the air as we barrel onto the mansion’s lanai.
The brief streak of brightness reveals Briar, standing across the wide gravel path, facing the maze of rosebushes with a gazebo at the center. She jumps at a sudden clap of thunder, her entire body trembling while she wraps her arms around herself…
Swaying?
“Briar!” Her name roars out of me before I can help myself. I know she hears me, but she doesn’t turn.
Cool, wet wind whips between us, ruffling her skirt. It carries the scent of the gardens overhead, filling the air with floral notes and some berry’s tart sweetness. For a second, my focus lurches toward it, trying to figure out what the hell could smell enticing enough to distract me now.
Rhys falls behind, but I barely notice. Another wallop of thunder splits the sky, and rain starts to pour as Cillian reaches his bride, grasping her arm. Tugging to turn her toward him.
The look on Briar’s face stops me in my tracks. I’ve never seen anything like it—awe and dismay. Blood-chilling fear. Confusion and betrayal. Devastation. And something that… gleams? A green blaze.
“Y-you,” she rattles at our alpha, her body shaking as water drips from her chin. “Y-you’re—”
Cillian stares down at her, his fingers curling tighter around her bicep as his nostrils flare.
He seems to pause, weighing something enormous in his mind.
I note his quick scan of the property around us.
When he doesn’t find anyone but me and Rhys, frozen in place, he stabs his gaze back into hers.
Intensity snaps between them. His voice lowers into a dangerous tenor.
“Say it.”
But she doesn’t have to. Because another blustery gust sweeps across the courtyard, whipping her scent right into us.
And it’s everything.
Heaven, hell, oblivion, madness.
Sweet and sour and earthy and floral. A tartness that shoots tingles through my body. Sugared freshness that sets my blood on fire. Every muscle in my body goes taut. My knot and cock harden so quickly it’s painful. A deep, throbbing pulse that echoes the flailing beat behind my scarred chest.
Mine, mine, mine, it thrums.
Mate, mate, mate.