Chapter 23
Zeb
“Are you sure this is the place, sir?” my driver asks as we pull up outside the abandoned warehouse that looks like it barely survived an apocalypse, a war zone relic of which I have seen many. It belongs in another city, on another planet, not here in the capital of Chimera.
“It is,” I say, giving nothing away of my purpose. My driver is hand-picked and former military. Not the kind to go running to Governor Brach every time I sneeze… He knows who I am and what I’m capable of, and what will likely happen to him if he fucks me over.
Still the moment holds a certain weight. I’m three months into my political career and already crossing lines. But I wouldn’t be a politician now, would I, if I didn’t occasionally rub shoulders with a criminal? Connections matter. And that shit goes both ways.
Besides, I knew this man before. Back when he was just a soldier. Just an over-achieving alpha like so many others.
“Do you need me to accompany you?” my driver asks.
“No. Please stay here. This won’t take long.”
I slip out, pull my real-wool coat tighter, and head into the building. My eyes land on Lucien Banner among a cluster of men. He looks every inch a wealthy business mogul, which he is.
He owns Peppermint Moon, the most prestigious nightclub on Chimera, as well as a fight club, numerous properties, and has off-planet shipping interests…
which are useful given he’s also in possession of questionable, yet very lucrative, black-market pharmaceuticals that can turn non-dynamics into dynamics—yes, the Uncorrupted would kill for that. ..
His lips curve in a wry smile as he sees me approach.
We shake hands. “Good to see you, Zeb” he says, lifting a cigar to his mouth to take a deep draw before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
“Likewise,” I reply. “How’s your mate?”
“Good. Pregnant again.” He glances down at the cigar. “Doesn’t like me smoking around her, so…” His grin is broad and full of perfect white teeth.
“You bagged him, then?”
“Yeah. Pulled a few strings. You now owe Ethan a favor, along with the Gecko. Not sure which is worse… They both make careers out of collecting favors, so don’t feel too bad about it.”
“It’s worth it,” I say. “I just want the son-of-a-bitch dead.”
He nods. “Yeah. Wouldn’t have hesitated, either, if it had been Madalyn.” He thumbs in the direction of a crumbling back office and walks me over.
There he is, kneeling on plastic sheeting with his hands bound behind his back. I’ve never met this piece of shit. Never heard of him, until recently. Just a theta, working quietly in a government department. One of many.
This one played a role in identifying and targeting high-value dynamics, like Lilly Brach, and my Esme.
I understand why the government might want to keep him, he could be useful, but sometimes they just need to be dead.
Two deltas flank him—Jordan and Kade. Officially, they work for Lucien. Unofficially, they work for the government. Admittedly, this probably wasn’t what Governor Brach had in mind, but when needs must and all that.
They give me a chin lift. Kade, the blonde one with the unhinged glint in his eyes, casually draws his gun and screws a silencer on.
He hands it to me.
“What is this?” the man bound and kneeling before me stammers. “You don’t need to do this. I’ll tell you everything. I can be useful! I swear!”
Yeah, I’m not falling for his bullshit.
I walk forward and put the muzzle right up against his forehead.
“Please—” he stammers. “I didn’t know she was your mate!’”
“Three,” I say.
“This is a mistake!”
“Two.”
“I can tell you the names of the people on the inside!”
I pause, glance over at Lucien. He shakes his head.
“One.” I pull the trigger.
The sound is no more than a hiss. His body jerks. There’s a hole in the forehead and blood pools slowly across the plastic sheeting beneath him.
I hand the gun back to Kade, who takes it with a nod.
Lucien takes another long draw of his cigar, then exhales slowly. “Come by the club later,” he says. “Bring Esme. Madalyn would love to meet her. Might even be able to persuade Ethan and Ryker to bring Lilly if she knows the other girls will be there.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I just might.”
Esme
“This is a little short notice,” I say, adjusting the strap of my dress and checking my reflection in the closet mirror.
I’m not used to clothes like this. The fabric is exquisite, like wearing a whisper. My shoes are equally gorgeous with delicate straps and high heels. Nothing like the silk healer dresses… and the battle gear. My wardrobe is full of designer labels. They still feel like they belong to someone else.
I fell in love with a soldier… and ended up mated to a politician.
“Who is this mysterious acquaintance, anyway?” I ask. “You mentioned knowing him from the military.”
“Lucien Banner,” Zeb says, voice distant as he does something out of sight.
“As in the Lucien Banner? The business mogul who owns Peppermint Moon?”
He reappears, fully dressed in a dark suit that hugs his frame just right. The open necked black shirt underneath makes him look dangerous, and hot. My breath catches.
He crosses the room, tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, lifts my chin with two fingers, and presses a kiss to my lips—lazy, hot, enough to knock the air from my lungs.
“Wouldn’t you rather stay in?” I murmur turning to fully face him. How did I get so lucky? How did this man become mine?
His lips curl. His smirk still ties my stomach in knots.
“It will do you good to get out. You’ll like his mate, Madelyn. She’s a friend of Lilly’s.”
“She is?”
He nods. “And pregnant with her second child.”
“Oh,” I say softly. “Really?”
I do like the thought of meeting a friend of Lilly’s, and one that’s expecting like me is a bonus.
It’s taken some adjustment, this new life.
I’m no longer an omega deployed here or there.
Now I have a permanent position at the omega community.
And while I still get to see the people I know, the context is different now, and, like me, they will eventually move on and find mates.
It would be nice to have friends beyond the people I know there.
“Lilly and her mates are coming too,” he adds, like he knows that’s the clincher.
His hand slides slowly to the collar of my throat and a familiar glint enters his eyes.
“That’s nice,” I say weakly, completely distracted as he backs me into the mirror and the cool glass presses against my spine through the fabric of my dress. “Don’t you dare mess me up! Zeb, I’m serious— “
Of course, he ignores me, drops to his knees, and pushes my hem up with slow, deliberate hands. He nuzzles against the lace of my panties, rumbles a purr, before sliding them down—then casually tosses them over his shoulder.
I groan. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and my body is already growing slick.
“Quiet, woman,” he says, voice low. “Just a little snack to take the edge off. Wouldn’t want me turning feral in front of your nice new friends, now, would we?”
I moan as his hands spread my thighs, one leg lifted onto his shoulder. My fingers sink into his soft hair and grip. With the first lap of his tongue, I’m gone. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he rumbles against my most intimate place.
Thank you for reading Feral Adaptation!