45. Chapter Forty-Five #2
How dare he? How dare he walk in here adored and untouchable, with that beautiful, terrified omega caged by his side?
The urge to scream, to tear him down in front of everybody, burns through my veins like acid.
If there were ever a doubt about what we had to do tonight, there isn’t anymore.
He’s hurt my alphas, my sisters, every omega who’s ever looked out of a cage.
I want him ruined. Exposed. I want to see him shake the way Aubrey does, stripped of all his power, knowing what it means to be afraid.
I grit my teeth and blink away the sting in my eyes, grounding myself in the quiet rage and the knowledge that tonight, finally, he will not be untouchable. Not anymore.
Body heat warms my back as Ronan adjusts his stance behind me.
Close, but not close enough to touch, his presence is a solid warmth.
For a heartbeat, I think he’s drifting nearer for the view, but then I realize he’s shielding me.
Making himself a silent wall between me and the spiral of malevolence below.
His voice is a low, rumbling promise in my ear. “This is the last night the commissioner walks free. His omega won’t be caged like that again. None of them will. I swear it.”
His certainty, so quietly spoken, so absolute, so full of righteous fury, lodges under my breastbone, pushing back the tightness and letting me breathe just a little deeper. I nod, unable to trust my voice, letting the comfort and protection of his promise sink into wire-drawn nerves.
The room is packed, and everywhere I look there’s security.
Uniformed officers line the walls and doors, earpieces glinting.
They’re shoulder to shoulder, the perimeter too tight for comfort.
My instincts tighten, every cell in my body prickling with the reminder that this must be the commissioner’s doing because of what he’s here to do.
Trade omegas as though they’re property.
“We have to move and look like we’re blending in,” Ronan says quietly .
He leads us in an unhurried stroll down the hallways.
We don’t loiter anywhere, drifting slowly but with seeming purpose along the wall, never letting ourselves stand out.
Just a couple among many, gliding from one vantage point to another, but scoping out as much as we can.
Faces blur and lights flicker, and I feel the press of eyes.
Not just the security, but partygoers, alphas, betas, even the predatory glances from some omegas’ packs who notice a stranger among them.
I might be in disguise, but there’s only so much I can do to hide my omega designation.
A sharp, twisting cramp clenches through my belly, so sudden I pause, hand tightening on the railing as I ride it through. Ronan’s dark eyes sweep over me, concern flickering in his gaze. “Are you all right?”
I force a small, brave smile, willing my frame to straighten. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just stress.” My voice is steady, even if my heart is not.
Twice I’ve cramped tonight. Or is it three? With the stress of everything I haven’t been keeping track. Gods, please don’t let this be a heat spike. I just have to hold off for another hour or two. Just until we can save Leah. I can fall apart later.
His silent companionship keeps me moving when all I want to do is double over and hide. I draw on his strength, holding myself together for one more breath, one more moment, knowing the real collapse has to wait until Leah is free.
The air curdles and something sick and cold winds through my gut when I spot Pack Carmichael stride through the entrance. Bile creeps up my throat, and Ronan has my back again, taking my elbow when I stumble.
“You can do this, Omega,” he says.
I lock my knees and send him a sharp nod, willing my stomach to settle as they enter as though they own the place, dressed in sharp suits, expensive watches, and shoes glossed to a mirror shine.
I see that their smiles are practiced and blinding, their laughter too loud, pulling attention to them like moths who have no idea their wings will get singed when they fly too close to the flame .
News cameras flash. Gala regulars want to be seen with them.
Their popularity sickens me; every smiling face is just another person blind to the monsters hiding behind expensive clothing.
On the surface, the four of them are the picture of wealthy, successful alphas.
Only I know how rotten they are on the inside.
I will die before I let them take Leah.
The Commissioner of Police makes a show of welcoming them with open arms, embracing them like long-lost brothers. No one would guess that the whole gala is a front for their sick empire.
My skin crawls. I fight to keep my steps slow, my grip gentle on the champagne glass. I want nothing more than to spit at their feet, to scream the truth until the room goes silent and everyone can see the blood on their hands.
Aubrey is nothing but negative space beside them. Not one alpha bothers to acknowledge him. He hovers between them, eyes on the floor, still beneath his pressed jacket. There, but absent.
The minutes crawl by, each one burning a new line into my memory. I loop slow, careful circles around the third floor, Ronan remaining at my side, forcing myself not to show a hint of what I’m feeling. Rage. Disgust. Raw, desperate hate.
It’s almost an hour before the commissioner finally peels away from the bustle, his pack and Pack Carmichael in tow.
They move together, slapping backs, clinking glasses, giving every impression of deep, easy friendship.
I know better. Pack Carmichael lines the commissioner’s pockets, keeps his secrets, protects his interests and in return he gives them everything they want, no matter who it hurts.
Ronan and I hang back, slipping quietly along the hallway, careful to keep just enough distance not to be noticed but close enough not to lose them.
I follow his cues, matching his pace, keeping my head down just enough to avoid eye contact.
They disappear into an elevator, and we hover until the numbers above the door pause.
Ronan speaks into the discreet microphone in his sleeve as we head to the stairs at the end of the hallway and begin to meander up.
“We’re trailing the targets. Commissioner Turns and Pack Carmichael have moved to level six, northwest corridor.
” His calm is an anchor, but my nerves are raw and sparking, each step a battle not to trip over my own feet .
This part of the building is quiet as we step onto the empty sixth floor landing, having passed the last guests on the floor below. We reach a corner, the hush deeper here, as we catch the alphas disappearing through a polished door off the large, spacious hallway.
My pulse thunders in my ears. Sweat pricks the back of my neck. A whiff of honeysuckle blooms around me and I almost stumble. There’s only one reason it has the strength to burn through the de-scenter. I’m not experiencing a heat spike.
Holy fuck, I’m going into full heat.
At the worst possible moment.
We’re so close to Leah. I flatten my back against the wall behind Ronan, forcing the panic down.
We can’t afford to lose them. Not now, with everything on the cusp.
Bad things go on behind closed doors. We’ll never find them again.
I spare a frantic look at Ronan. “We have to follow them. We can’t lose sight of them. ”
And whatever it is, it must be caught on the body cams they’re all wearing. We need proof more than I need to stay hidden.
He looks down at me, frustration tightening his features. I know he’s thinking the same thing. “Stay close to my six, Emma. Keep your hand on my belt at all times. You leave my side for nothing, you understand?” His eyes flicker. Sharp, not unkind, but deadly serious.
We pad down the corridor. Ronan turns the handle and peeks around the door into the room. A frown forms on his forehead as we both peer into the shadows and, oh fuck , we really have lost them.
“Come on.”
I follow Ronan into the room but as soon as the door snicks shut behind us, I know something’s wrong. Ronan shifts in front of me, broad and bristling, but three large alphas emerge from the shadows. The looks on their faces curdles my stomach—hungry, smug, vicious.
The cruelest alpha’s thin lips twist into a greasy smile as he tips his head back and drags my scent into his lungs. “Hello, Omega. Welcome back to your rightful pack,” Matthew says.