9. Dangerous Territory
Dangerous Territory
~FELIX~
" I think I just found our Omega."
Those words from Carter keep replaying in my mind as I trail them from a safe distance, my drone providing an aerial view of their path across campus.
In the five years of being Carter’s second pair of eyes, I've never heard that tone in his voice – something between desperation and certainty.
This should be interesting.
The girl – Elizabeth Abercrombie, I've gathered from their conversation through the phone tap and additional research – walks with a slight favoring of her feet.
Dance injuries, from what I've pieced together.
Her platinum blonde hair catches the fading sunlight, making her easy to track even without the drone's assistance. Adding the blazer that’s casually resting upon her shoulders which I’m positive is Carter’s only further draws my attention to her lean frame that’s more than just attractive.
She has an athletic build, but has a bit of curves, making every stride look far too tempting to admit. Despite her injury, it’s clear she walks with confidence regardless, giving anyone a glimpse of trouble and temptation.
This usually means Carter is either walking into some sort of trap or he’s found some sort of goldmine in this specific Omega.
Our purpose is to locate an Omega who can play along with this stupid game of cat and mouse we’ve wound ourselves into, but one look at this Abercrombie girl and I know she’s not going to be the submissive Omega down the block.
I could do a deep dive into her background, and pull up everything from her dental records to her kindergarten report cards. That's usually my first move – knowing everything about a target before they become relevant — but Carter's urgent request to clear the locker room had caught me off guard.
Carter Giovanni, thrown off balance by an Omega.
Never thought I'd see the day.
Their path takes them through what feels like a museum of social decline.
We started in the pristine southern quarter of campus, all manicured lawns and gleaming architecture. But with each step, the surroundings degrade like a time-lapse of urban decay.
Through my earpiece, I catch fragments of their conversation, carried by the microphone in Carter's phone.
"You really don't have to walk me all the way," Elizabeth is saying, her voice carrying notes of both amusement and concern. "This isn't exactly the tourist-friendly part of campus."
"I noticed," Carter replies dryly. "Mind explaining why Knot Academy looks like a case study in socioeconomic disparity?"
A harsh laugh from Elizabeth.
"That's actually pretty accurate. The campus layout is deliberate. Goes from luxury to basically the dumps on purpose. It's part of their 'behavioral modification' program."
Behavioral Modification Program…
That’s the first time I’ve heard of anything so deliberately manufactured.
"To penalize unclaimed Omegas," Carter says.
It's not a question.
Through my drone's camera, I watch him take in their surroundings.
The buildings here are crumbling, graffiti covering walls that haven't seen maintenance in years. Windows are broken or boarded up, and the few streetlights that aren't shattered cast sickly yellow pools on cracked pavement.
Other Alphas lurk in doorways and alleyways, their attention sharp and predatory as Carter and Elizabeth pass. But Carter maintains that casual, almost bored demeanor that's made him legendary in our circles – one hand in his pocket, the other holding Elizabeth's like they're taking a stroll through a park.
But I know him better than that.
I can see the tension in his shoulders; the way his eyes constantly scan their surroundings. He's cataloging threats, mapping escape routes, preparing for the violence that seems to hover in the air like smoke.
"Is that why nothing's maintained?" Carter asks, stepping around a large puddle of questionable origin. "Part of the punishment?"
"Kind of," Elizabeth says, and there's something resigned in her tone. "But the real difference is that this section of campus is...accessible."
Hmm?
"Accessible?"
"To Alphas. And well, anyone really. The administration turns a blind eye to who comes and goes here. It's like a..." She pauses, searching for words. "A pressure release valve, I guess. Let the predators have their hunting grounds, keep them away from the 'valuable' Omegas."
Through my drone's camera, I watch Carter's jaw tighten. But before he can respond, movement catches my attention – a figure detaching itself from a shadowed doorway, moving to intercept them.
Carter sees it too.
In one smooth motion, he tugs Elizabeth closer to his side, just as a voice calls out.
"Hey." The man stepping into their path is tall, and muscular, with the kind of scars that come from street fights rather than training rooms. "Interested in sharing that toy you got there?"
Shit.
I move my hand to the gun holstered under my jacket, calculating how quickly I can close the distance between us.
But something in Carter's posture makes me pause.
He's smiling.
It's not his usual smirk, or even the dangerous grin he gets before a fight. This is something else entirely – the kind of smile that reminds me why the Giovanni family has ruled the underground for three generations.
Carter tilts his head, a gesture I've seen countless times before. It always precedes violence – elegant, precise violence that leaves lasting impressions on those lucky enough to survive it.
And let’s be honest…most don’t survive what comes after his merciless deliverance.
"Really not the sharing type," Carter says, his voice carrying that dangerous playfulness that makes my hand twitch toward my gun again. "But thanks for the offer."
The man's face hardens, muscles flexing beneath his dirty t-shirt.
"Wasn't asking."
"Funny," Carter shrugs, the movement deliberately casual. "Neither was I."
Without taking his eyes off the threat, Carter gently guides Elizabeth behind him. From the look in her eyes and the slight parting of her lips, I can tell she wants to say something — to interfere in some way, but Carter gives a slight glance over his shoulder. The two share a short glance, and whatever exchanges between their locked gaze encourages Elizabeth’s silence.
My gut is telling me that’s not something she’d normally do, especially when her exterior gives off rebellious with a capital R. If she’s able to be cooperative with a simple look from Carter, maybe she wouldn’t be as difficult to work with as our temporary Omega.
Through my drone's camera, I watch him begin rolling up his sleeves with methodical precision. Each movement is calculated; a show of confidence that borders on arrogance.
But it's not arrogance if you can back it up.
The crack of his neck echoes in the quiet street, and that's when I see it – the flash of ink on his wrist as he finishes with his sleeves.
The Giovanni family crest, rendered in black and gold, impossible to mistake for anything else.
Elizabeth notices it too – I can see her eyes widen slightly. From the way her eyes are blinking, I guess she’s not registering the inked piece as though she’s supposed to have noticed it beforehand. Then again, I have a strong feeling Carter wasn’t in that changeroom just ‘getting’ to know her.
What now has my attention is the would-be attacker's reaction that's most fascinating now that he’s acknowledged the very vivid crest that’s probably the very few markings anyone who’s merely got a taste of the underground would recognize.
Or you might as well dig your own grave and lay inside it, waiting for your demise to come faster.
His face drains of color so quickly that I think he might pass out.
"Shit," he stammers, taking a stumbling step backward. "I... I didn't know she was associated with the Giovannis. My apologies, Sir. I didn't?—"
"What?" Carter cuts him off, his voice dropping to that deep register I know too well. The lethal vibrations that predetermine a victim’s demise. "Do I need to put up a fucking billboard? Maybe take out an ad in the paper?" He takes a step forward, and despite being shorter than his opponent, he seems to loom over him.
The man lets out a nervous laugh, hands raised in surrender.
"No trouble. No trouble at all. Just... just admiring your hot accessory, that's all?—"
Wrong thing to say.
Carter moves like liquid mercury, suddenly in the man's personal space.
The air grows thick with Alpha pheromones – the kind that speak of violence and dominance. Through my drone's feed, I can see others in the shadows either retreating further or freezing in place.
Smart move.
When Carter gets like this, even breathing wrong can get you killed.
"Let me correct that statement," Carter says, his voice so soft it's barely picked up by the phone's microphone. "She's not an accessory. She's not a toy. She's not whatever degrading term your limited vocabulary might come up with next."
He leans closer, and even from my position, I can see the man trembling.
"If I ever hear you refer to my Omega, or any Omega , like that again," Carter continues, each word precise and lethal, "I'll personally ensure you never speak another word. Starting by removing that tongue of yours. Slowly."
The man drops into a clumsy half-bow, sweat visible on his forehead.
"Please, let me make it up to you. I can... I can guide you to your destination twenty minutes from here?—"
"And why," Carter interrupts, "would you know where we're going?"
The question hangs in the air like a blade.
If he knows how long it would take for them to get to Elizabeth’s dorm, that means this douche has been following her for a while. Stalking her trail and waiting for the right opportunity to strike.
He thought today would be a good day because she was with another Alpha. Thought he could ride his coattails to get a taste of her.
I suddenly feel this urge to rid this dude of existing on Mother Nature’s fine soil.
The man's trembling increases as Carter leans in close, his lips nearly touching the man's ear. Even through my earpiece, his whisper carries clearly.
"Dare to even LOOK at what's mine, and I will systematically destroy everything you hold dear. I'll do it right in front of you, so you know exactly who's dismantling your pathetic existence. And when I've stripped away every person, possession, and every shred of dignity you have left..."
He pauses, and I watch the man's knees start to buckle.
"I'll take my time slicing that cock of yours into tiny pieces. Feed them to my pet piranhas while you watch. And then, if you manage to apologize properly to my Omega, I might grant you a quick death instead of letting you bleed out."
The man collapses to his knees, actual tears streaming down his face as he begs for mercy. "Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have – I never meant?—"
Through my drone's camera, I can see Elizabeth's expression – a mixture of shock and what looks dangerously close to fascination.
Don’t tell me violence and chaos turns her on.
If it does, Carter may have just found our golden match.
Carter straightens, adjusting his cuffs as though he hasn't just reduced a grown man to a sobbing wreck.
"Lucky for you, I'm in an exceptionally good mood today."
The casual way he delivers the reprieve might be more terrifying than the threat itself. I've seen Carter in action enough times to know that his mercy can be more dangerous than his wrath – it leaves survivors to spread the word.
And the word spreads quickly when it comes to the Giovannis.
The gathered crowd begins to disperse, melting back into shadows with the kind of urgency that comes from realizing you're in the presence of an apex predator. Even through the drone's thermal imaging, I can see their heat signatures retreating, putting as much distance between themselves and Carter as possible.
Good to run away while you can.
"Thank you for your mercy," the man stammers, bowing so low his forehead nearly touches the ground. "Miss Omega, please accept my deepest apologies."
He backs away, nearly tripping over his own feet before turning and running as if the hounds of hell are at his heels.
Carter and Elizabeth wait in silence until the last echoes of footsteps fade and the shadows swallow up any remaining observers. Only then does Carter take her hand again, his touch surprisingly gentle after such a display of contained violence.
"Were you scared?" he asks as they resume walking, his thumb tracing absent patterns on her palm.
"Hell no," Elizabeth says, and there's a spark of excitement in her voice that makes my eyebrows raise. She sounds fucking excited. "But I do have questions about these pet piranhas."
Carter's laugh breaks through the lingering tension like sunshine through storm clouds.
"I actually do have a tank full of them," he admits, grinning. "Have to keep them in a specific room though. Holmes loses his shit every time he sees them."
"Holmes?"
"Holmesovich," Carter explains. "The true leader of our pack and probably the biggest douche in the Tainted Trinity." Through my earpiece, I can hear the fondness beneath the mockery. "Then there's Felix Reichmann, and me, Carter Giovanni. People think I'm the sinister one."
I can't help but smirk at that.
If they only knew.
"I'm guessing that's a lie?" Elizabeth asks, studying his profile.
"Yup." Carter's grin is wide and proud. "I'm actually the most laid-back and good one in the group."
Elizabeth stops walking, gawking at him with such dramatic disbelief that I have to stifle a laugh.
"No way."
Carter throws her a wink that somehow manages to be both playful and predatory.
"I have my days, but right now?" His voice drops lower. "I'm in an exceptionally good mood, thanks to a certain Omega who knows how to stay on her tippy toes."
The blush that spreads across her face is visible even through my drone's camera. Carter's dark chuckle makes her blush deepen further.
"Come on," he says, tugging gently at her hand. "Sun's setting. If we've got twenty minutes from here, we shouldn't delay."
Something flickers across Elizabeth's face.
"It did freak me out a bit," she admits quietly. "That he knew exactly how long it takes to get to my dorm."
"They've been watching you," Carter says, his voice hardening. "Probably waiting for the right moment to?—"
"Oh, they've tried," Elizabeth cuts him off, and there's an edge to her voice that makes both Carter and me pay closer attention. "Today's actually the first day I haven't had my main bag with me. Usually carry pepper spray, a taser, brass knuckles…the essentials."
"The essentials," Carter repeats, and I can hear the carefully controlled anger in his voice. "How often?"
Elizabeth shrugs, but the gesture is too casual to be genuine.
"Often enough to know better than to walk around here unarmed. The administration turns a blind eye to pretty much anything that happens in this sector, remember? It's like...unofficial territory for hunting unclaimed Omegas. Whatever happens here is for those in these parts to witness, judge, or pretend you never saw shit."
My drone catches Carter's expression darkening.
"And they just let this happen?" He seems disgusted by the mere idea, but we know better when it comes to the whole Alpha-Beta-Omega tiers and how it works in society in general.
If it doesn’t benefit their pockets in some way, they don’t give a damn. Omegas don’t make the government money. They only benefit if they’re lab rats or are offered to a pack that brings a shit ton of business and investments to the table. Betas are simply slaves in between, and Alphas?
Alphas are the tier where the government will spend its top dollar and finest resources to continue their uprising in this sinister world as long as they benefit from the outcome of the transaction.
That’s exactly why Omegas are like some sort of reward.
"Part of the motivation package," Elizabeth says bitterly. "Nothing encourages an Omega to find a pack quite like the constant threat of assault." She kicks a loose piece of concrete, watching it skitter across the cracked pavement. "Most Omegas who live in this sector either find a pack within their first year by force or... disappear."
"But not you," Carter says softly, acknowledging that she’s truly an anomaly.
"Not me." Her smile is sharp enough to cut. "Turns out being the 'Forgotten One' comes with some advantages. Most Alphas around here think I'm cursed or something. The really superstitious ones believe I'm some kind of witch."
"Are you saying you're not?" Seeing the way his eyes twinkle with delight and playfulness reminds me of the younger Carter. The one who didn’t need to focus on running an empire in his parents’ stead while they recovered from the incident years ago. He has never been able to joke with someone outside of our group, and definitely not with an Omega.
The question brings a genuine laugh from Elizabeth.
"If I was, don't you think I'd have hexed half the administration by now?"
"Maybe you're playing the long game," Carter suggests, his tone lighter but his eyes still scanning their surroundings with predatory focus. "Gathering power for some grand revenge scheme."
"Now there's a thought, though five years as the long game is overkill." Elizabeth's smile turns thoughtful. "Think your piranhas would be interested in helping?"
"They do enjoy a challenge," Carter says with mock seriousness. "Though I should warn you, they're picky eaters. Only consume the finest quality assholes."
Their laughter echoes off the crumbling walls as they approach what I can only assume is Elizabeth's residence. Through my drone's thermal imaging, I can see multiple points of entry – broken windows, gaps in the walls, and even holes in the roof.
The building looks like it should have been condemned years ago.
The front door hangs slightly askew on its hinges, the lock mechanism completely missing. Carter's hand tightens on Elizabeth's as they enter, and even through my earpiece, I can hear his sharp intake of breath at the stench – a nauseating mixture of rotting wood, mold, and something decidedly worse.
"Home sweet home," Elizabeth says with forced cheerfulness.
The interior is even worse than the outside suggested.
The walls are stained with water damage, with patches of black mold spreading like abstract art. Debris litters the floor – broken glass, pieces of drywall, what looks disturbingly like animal droppings.
When they head for the stairs, I take my opportunity to slip inside, keeping to the shadows. The stairwell creaks ominously with each step, and I notice Carter testing each one before letting Elizabeth proceed. I’m sure with her being here for a while, she probably knows the building better than he, but she seems to not mind his overprotectiveness.
"Elevator's been broken for years," she explains unnecessarily, gesturing to the rusted doors as they pass. "But hey, at least we get our cardio in, right?"
Carter doesn't respond, but his expression speaks volumes. Every Alpha instinct must be screaming at him to get her out of there.
Hell, even I'm fighting the urge to call in a demolition team.
They reach what Elizabeth indicates is her floor. The hallway stretches into darkness, and most of the overhead lights are either broken or missing entirely. Her room is at the far end, naturally – the most isolated, hardest to escape from.
"How many neighbors do you have?" Carter asks, though, from his tone, I suspect he already knows the answer.
Elizabeth laughs, but there's no humor in it.
"None, actually. I'm the only one left in the entire building."
Say what now,
I fixed my earpiece as though I didn’t hear what she said right.
"The entire building?" Carter's voice is dangerously quiet.
"Yeah," she shrugs, fiddling with her key – the only functioning lock I've seen in the whole place. "Sometimes the maintenance guy comes by to check if the water's still running. Throws in a cleaning tablet once or twice a year since the water's basically toxic at this point."
"How do you shower? Brush your teeth?"
"Bottled water for teeth," she says, pushing open her door. Even doing that is deemed as a workout because she has to use the whole half of her body to push against the door to get it to budge. "And I don't shower here. I use the school facilities. The female cleaner, she's a Beta. She's pretty nice about it. Leaves me a blanket and pillow each night so I can sleep on the bench if I’m not up to staying in this hellhole. It’s not very comfortable during the winter months, so I opt to sleep in the changerooms most of the time. They’re a lot safer and well insulated."
From my position in the stairwell, I deploy my drone outside her window. The footage confirms my worst fears – part of the roof has completely caved in, creating an easy access point for anyone determined enough to get in.
Carter takes in the room slowly, his jaw clenching tighter with each detail – the mattress on the floor, the plastic bins serving as storage, the bucket positioned under a perpetually leaking ceiling.
"This is unacceptable," he says finally, the words coming out like they've been dragged over broken glass.
"Yup." Elizabeth sits on her makeshift bed, looking oddly small in Carter's oversized blazer. "Which is why I try not to stay here much. The changeroom's actually safer, believe it or not."
"What happens if someone just walks in here?"
She pointed to another bag that was right next to her bed, near what I can only assume is a pillow, though it looks like a morphed couch cushion.
"Pepper spray and a nightly prayer. Sometimes both."
Un-fucking-acceptable .
I’m making up words at this point while checking the structural integrity readings from my drone. The whole building is one strong wind away from collapse. Even for a hardened Omega, this is beyond dangerous – it's practically a death trap.
"I used to stay at a motel," Elizabeth continues, picking at a loose thread on her dance shorts. "But I was burning through my savings too fast. Emergency funds only stretch so far, you know? So..." She gestures vaguely at her surroundings. "Had to adapt."
"How long have you been here?" Carter asks, still standing, as if sitting would somehow make this situation more acceptable.
"Almost five years. They moved me here during my first year when it became clear I wasn't going to attract a suitable pack." A bitter smile crosses her face. "That and because I was…what did they call me? Oh right, a 'rebellious psycho bitch.'"
Five years …
I watch Carter's reflection in my drone's camera.
Five years in what amounts to a concrete coffin.
The Giovanni empire has done some dark things, but this... this is a special kind of cruelty that’s supported by the government not giving a damn about who gets left behind in this dump of a place.
"You don't belong here, Abbie," Carter whispers, the words carrying through my earpiece like a prayer.
Elizabeth shrugs, but the gesture lacks her usual defiance.
"This is the end of the road for the Forgotten Ones. Think of it as an initiation that never graduates to that freshman stage." Her laugh is hollow. "You're just...stuck. Trying to prove yourself to a tier of power that doesn't give a damn."
She tries to make it sound casual, but the tension in her shoulders betrays her.
Rising from the mattress, she moves toward the door.
"You should go. It's getting late, and this area..." She bites her lip. "The Alphas around here get...creative at night. October's coming up, so they like to do their killing sprees with masks. Really embrace that Halloween spirit, you know?"
"How exactly is that supposed to encourage me to leave you here?" Carter's voice carries that lethal edge again.
Elizabeth laughs, moving to a miniature fridge in the corner. When she opens it, the drone's camera reveals nothing but bottles of water – not a scrap of food in sight.
"Don't worry about it," she says, closing the door. "I'll be fine. Maybe I'll see you around campus tomorrow?"
Through my drone's feed, I watch Carter struggle with himself.
He clearly doesn't want to leave, but I can see him fighting against appearing too clingy: too invested too soon.
"What are you going to eat for dinner?"
Elizabeth pauses, considering.
"Oh. I forgot to grab something from the cafe." She waves off his concerned look. "I'll just get something in the morning."
"You're going to starve yourself?" Carter's tone is carefully neutral, but I can hear the tension underneath. "Hard to maintain that dancer's physique without fuel."
"It's just for tonight," she laughs, but it sounds forced. "Sometimes I do fasts anyway. It's fine."
Carter seems to realize he's fighting a losing battle.
"At least take my number."
"Really?" Something flickers across her face – surprise, maybe hope. "No one's asked for my number since I first got to Knot Academy. Funny how that works."
Carter's frown deepens, but he stays quiet as they exchange numbers. Elizabeth walks him to the door, her movements betraying a reluctance that matches his.
"See you tomorrow?" she says, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah," Carter nods, but he only makes it to the stairs before letting out a frustrated groan. In three long strides, he's back at her door before she can close it. Without a second delay, he already has her in his grasp — lips claiming hers in a heartbeat.
The kiss catches her off guard – I can see it in the way she freezes for a split second before melting into him. It's not gentle either. This one carries a desperate need to make things right.
They’re fighting for breath when they pull apart.
"I'm only letting you stay here tonight," he murmurs against her lips, "because I need to talk to my pack. But after that?" His voice hardens. "You're not staying in this hellhole another night."
A smirk plays at her lips as she pulls back slightly.
"Don't make big promises you can't keep." She winks, then rises on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, though. For giving me probably the best evening icebreaker stroll I've ever experienced."
Her voice drops lower, more vulnerable.
"You made me feel like I'm not a broken Omega after all."
The smile she gives him then is different from any I've seen on her face – soft, genuine, transforming her entire expression from sharp edges to something almost luminous.
Even from my position, I can smell her scent shifting, becoming warmer, and sweeter.
It's... captivating.
Well, shit. Now I see what Carter means. What’s pulling him in like a moth to a flame…
"Goodnight," Carter says roughly, but he doesn't move until she closes and locks all four deadbolts on her door. Even then, he stands there for another twenty minutes, hand pressed against the rotting doorframe as if he can somehow protect her through sheer force of will.
The look on his face when he finally turns away makes me reach for my phone.
Guess I should start making arrangements.