Chapter 6
6
T he cloying perfume of roses hangs thick in the air, almost sickly as I move through the garden first, boots silent on the stone path, the suppressed pistol steady in my grip.
My team fans out behind me, shadows weaving between sculpted hedges and trellises draped in thorn-laced vines as we move toward the sprawling mansion ahead. Tall windows spill golden light onto the rose bushes, and I catch movement from within.
I signal with two fingers, swift and sharp, and movement halts. A breeze shifts through the garden, rustling leaves, carrying the faintest murmur of conversation.
We wait, breath held, bodies coiled like loaded springs.
Raphael moves beside me, his body heat seeping into me, and I shove down the instinctive desire to move closer. I don’t have time for the distraction. Not when one misstep could turn the garden into a graveyard.
The estate’s security is good, but not perfect. A single guard rounds the side entrance, the glow of his cigarette marking him before he steps into view. I move before he sees me, knife sliding free from its sheath, and in a heartbeat, he’s down, no sound, no struggle, just dead weight crumpling into the roses.
My breaths come slow and even within the black mask that covers my face, my pulse barely elevated by the incident. I wipe the blade clean and turn to Raphael, tipping my head to indicate we should keep going.
We advance, and the others follow, approaching the carved stone archway leading into the estate. Raphael’s shoulder brushes mine, and I don’t need to check to know he’s surveying the layout, every angle and potential threat assessed in an instant.
I want to resent how easily we still move together, like no time has passed at all. But I can’t deny the flicker of anticipation in my chest, the instinctive pull to fall into sync with him, even now.
“Perimeter check,” I command, the communicator around my neck carrying my whispered words to the rest of our people. “Two-minute sweep. Keep it tight.”
As my team disperses, Raphael’s presence at my side fills my senses. I take a steadying breath, the sweet scent of roses mixing with the pheromones from Raphael’s skin. It’s a scent I once knew as well as my own, and the familiarity of it opens an ache in my chest.
I silence my communicator to speak to him. “Stick to the plan. No improvising.”
Raphael’s low hum of acknowledgment vibrates through me, and the weight of his gaze settles on my profile. I don’t meet his eyes. I can’t. Not when being this close to him after so many years is messing with my head, my instincts flip-flopping between leaning into him and pushing him away.
So I do what I do best. I square my shoulders, set my jaw, and focus on the mission. On the goal that’s driven me for so long. Everything else—the history, the hurt, the unresolved issues between us—will have to wait.
Confirmation that all is clear comes from our team as everyone gets into position.
“Move out,” I whisper.
Together, we slip into the estate through the French doors.
The ground floor is too bright for comfort. Chandeliers drip gold light onto polished floors, and the walls gleam with ornate paneling. Erotic oil paintings of Alphas dominating Omegas line the walls, and my stomach twists with disgust.
Killing this man will be a pleasure.
Raphael moves beside me, his steps silent despite the years he’s been out of this side of the business. We stay close to the walls, where the glare isn’t as punishing, moving past open doorways that spill the sound of distant conversation and the clink of expensive crystal.
My earpiece crackles with quiet confirmations as the others get into position. Team B is already in the east wing, cutting down security, and Team C is setting the first charge in the main hall.
Everything is in motion.
My fingers flex around the grip of my pistol as we reach the hallway leading to the basement door. It’s locked, but that won’t be a problem. Without a word between us, Raphael shifts into position, offering cover as I kneel. Holstering my gun, I pull a slim set of picks from my belt.
Within seconds, the lock gives under my hands, and I ease the door open, revealing a stairwell descending into darkness.
Raphael’s hand brushes my arm in a silent signal. I fall into step behind him as we begin our descent. The narrow stairs offer nowhere to take cover if we run into trouble, and my pulse quickens, my senses heightened as I keep my gun trained on the door we came through.
Halfway down, I catch the faint scuff of a boot on the stairs. Before I can alert Raphael, he moves, his body a blur of motion as a security guard comes around the corner of the stairs.
He spots us, his body stiffening in shock as he reaches for his radio, but Raphael’s on him in an instant, sliding a knife through his neck and severing the man’s spine.
It’s over in seconds, and the guard crumples to the ground, his radio skittering across the steps.
“Nice work.” I stoop to retrieve the radio and tuck it into my pocket.
The adrenaline of the fight burns bright in Raphael’s face. “Just like old times, huh?”
A shiver of awareness shoots through me, my blood heating. “Yeah. Just like old times.”
We continue downward, the air growing colder. Gone is the opulence from above, replaced by cement walls and bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
As we round the last turn in the stairs, I glimpse movement ahead. More guards, though they haven’t noticed us yet. They sit at a table, a game of cards in play.
Raphael pauses, gun raised, and gestures to the left.
I move up to his side and aim at the guards on the right.
My first shot takes the farthest guard out, his brains splattering the wall behind him. My second catches the other guard as he spins toward us, his hand still on his holstered weapon as he crashes to the floor.
Raphael’s targets fall in perfect synchronization, so attuned it feels like we never stopped doing this together.
Breaths quickening, our eyes lock, and electricity crackles between us. No one else, not even Cassian, has ever been so in tune with me, and my soul sings with the rightness of having him by my side.
It takes effort to turn my head away, focusing instead on the heavy metal door that lies beyond the bloodstained card table.
Our intel said this was the way in, but now that we’re here, I can see it’s going to be a problem. The door is reinforced, likely bulletproof, and not something my lockpicks can get us through.
I point to a black rectangle on the wall. “Handprint reader?”
“Appears to be.” Raphael scans the men at the table. “Which of them do you think is the leader?”
I turn to study them and point to the man with the largest pile of chips. “Him.”
Holstering his weapon, Raphael grabs the body and drags him over to the wall. I join him and lift the man’s hand, pressing it to the reader. A red light flashes across the panel as it scans his palm, then turns green, and the door unlocks.
Raphael lets the body thud back to the ground, and I step over it to reach the door, opening it wider.
With our senses on high alert, we step into a dimly lit room beyond, and even through my mask, the stench of mold and decay reaches me. I take a moment to gain my bearings, my vision adjusting to the gloom.
And that’s when I see them.
The Omegas. Far more than we were led to believe were held here. A dozen of them, shackled to the walls, naked and staring at us with haunted eyes. The sight of it hits me like a punch to the gut, a wave of fury and revulsion washing over me.
Beside me, Raphael goes still, his body stiffening as anger rolls off him in waves, a mirror of my own emotions.
I take a deep breath, forcing down the rage that threatens to consume me. We have a job to do, and I can’t afford to let my emotions interfere.
I touch the communicator on the side of my throat. “Report.”
“Security down,” comes through the speaker. “Alpha and his dinner guests are secured.”
“Incendiary devices in place.”
“We found the Omegas,” I report. “We’re going to need more transportation.”
“Plenty of vehicles in the garage, boss.”
“Good. Find some clothes and notify the care team that they’ll have more patients than expected.” I turn to Raphael. “Check the body for keys to those shackles.”
Raphael crouches to pat down the guard, and when he doesn’t find keys, and checks the other bodies, too, before he straightens with a shake of his head. “One of the guards upstairs must have them.”
With a nod, I pull lockpicks from my pocket and pass Raphael a second set. “I hope you remember how to use these.”
“I haven’t let my skills get rusty.” He takes them, his fingers lingering on mine. “I won’t let you down.”
Pulse jumping, I pull my hand back. “I’ll take the left side, you take the right.”
We split up, and I move to the first Omega.
“It’s okay,” I murmur to the young woman who looks more like a child. “We’re here to help you. You’re safe now.”
Despite my reassurance, the Omega just stares at me, unmoving. The sight sends a sharp pang through my chest, stirring memories I don’t want to face. Not here, not now.
The stench of damp concrete and unwashed bodies presses in, suffocating, too familiar. A fine tremor shakes my fingers as I work the first lock, the cold metal reminding me of the ones that had bound my mother. I don’t let the emotion take hold. I shove it down, focusing on the mechanism, on the way the shackles spring open under my touch.
I remember the metal digging into my mother’s wrists as she held me close, whispering lullabies through cracked lips, promising me that one day, we’d be free. But she never made it out of those chains. Her body had grown too weak, her spirit too battered. She had died still shackled like these Omegas, and no one had come for her.
The lock clicks, and the Omega’s restraints fall away. She doesn’t move, doesn’t react, as if she doesn’t quite believe she’s free.
I place a careful hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. We’re getting you out of here.”
Raphael looks at me from across the room, soft understanding in his expression. He’s always been able to read me too well. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps working, freeing the next Omega in line with swift efficiency.
As I move to the next captive, I try to stay in the present, but the past rises from the shadows of my mind. I was born in a place like this. The forgotten child of an Omega no one cared about. My mother had been nothing more than property, a nameless number in someone’s ledger.
The same man who trained Caleb had saved me from that place. He raised me and put the first knife in my hand, ensuring I’d be strong enough to never become a victim.
The shackles fall from another set of wrists, and the clink of metal fills the room as Raphael works to free the ones on his side, opening locks almost as fast as I do. Turns out he wasn’t bluffing about keeping his skills sharp.
I focus on my side of the room, my fingers steady as I work to unlock the heavy chains. The Omegas watch me, their bodies trembling with fear and exhaustion, their expressions wide with fear.
One by one, the shackles fall away, and the Omegas stumble forward, their legs weak from disuse. I catch a young woman as she staggers, her body frail and light in my arms.
“Thank you.” Her hand shakes as she grasps my arm. “Thank you so much.”
My throat tightens with emotion as I help her stand up. “You’re welcome.”
Raphael helps a few rise to their feet, too, and we move them all into a line.
I touch the device around my throat again. “We’re on our way up.”
“All clear, boss.”
We head back upstairs, meeting up with Team B on the first floor. I take the stack of clothes they gathered and pass them out to the Omegas, speaking quietly as I tell them what’s going to happen next.
They’ll be going to a secondary location, where they’ll be put into contact with the Omega Outreach Program, which will provide the treatment they need and return them to their families. If they don’t have a home to return to, the OOP will provide them with a safe place to stay and the means to get back on their feet.
As they’re led toward the garage, I look into the dining room, where the bodies of those who fought were left lying in their bloody dinner dress. I want to find the ones who were captured alive and add them to the stack, then stay and watch while the place burns.
Too bad that’s not the plan. We’re far from done for the night.
“Extraction team, drop off our cargo, then head to the next rendezvous point,” I instruct as we head back out into the garden.
Our vehicles are on the other side of the screen of trees that mask the sprawling property from easy view. The seclusion hid what the Alpha did here with his harem of Omegas, and we used it to our favor in taking him down.
As we move away from the others, Raphael steps in close and holds a candy bar out to me. “Eat before the shakes set in.”
Without thinking, I take it and read the label. White chocolate raspberry. My favorite. I shouldn’t be surprised he remembered how I always need a sugar boost after an adrenaline crash. Working with him again, our bodies in sync, our instincts aligned… It was like no time had passed at all, like we were still the same partners we’d always been.
And yet, the bitterness lingers, the sting of betrayal still fresh. I can’t forget what he did, can’t forget the way he left me behind.
“Don’t overthink,” Raphael murmurs. “Just eat the candy bar.”
The wrapper crinkles in my fist. “Stop telling me what to do.”
Stopping, he pulls me off the path and into the trees.
I stiffen. “What are you?—”
“This was a rough job.” He backs me up against a tree and pries the candy bar from my hand to peel open the wrapper. “It was a lot to ask of you to be the one to go down to the basement.”
A shudder rolls through me at the memory of all those Omegas chained up. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” He tugs my mask down and cups the back of my head, tilting my face up to his. “I know you don’t like to take jobs like this. But you saved them. They won’t die in those chains.”
A sting of grief tightens in my chest, and I hate myself for the weakness, hate him for knowing it’s there. “Shut up.”
He massages the Mark on the nape of my neck in soothing circles. “They’re not your mom.”
A choked breath escapes me, and a tear slips free. “I told you to shut up.”
“It’s okay, baby.” His head dips, his lips skimming my cheek. “The Alpha who owned this place is going to die a horrible death as Caleb digs out any information he has about the trafficking operation. If you want to help, say the word.”
His pheromones curl around me, seeping through my pores and into my bloodstream. With a quiet curse, I turn my face into his neck, filling my lungs with his scent. I hate how much this man knows about me, how much I still need him.
If this had been Cassian, he never would have noticed how hard this job hit me, but because it’s Raphael, because we lived and breathed for each other…
A rumble rises from his chest, and he pulls back far enough for his mouth to graze over mine.
The warmth of his lips barely registers before he steps back and brings the open candy bar to my lips. “Eat up. We still have a nightclub to infiltrate.”
The flavor of white chocolate raspberry coats my tongue as he walks ahead, but not too far. Just enough to give me room to collect myself.