Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Romeo Hall, Sanctum
N umb, I kneel in the middle of Benedict’s nest in the library. The pages of the books surround me in a sea of words, but I can’t read any of them.
My mind is foggy. My vision is blurred.
I’m lost in the past, in a time when Nova would hold my hand as she lead me into Prima Ballet Theater with a sparkling smile. I’d watch her from the stalls, glowing with pride as she danced and I dreamed that one day I could become like her.
And I have.
But she’ll never know it or see me dance.
I’ll never hold her hand again.
My eyes are red from crying but dry of tears.
I’m all wept out from yesterday and last night. I’ve been grieving since I found out the truth of Mom’s murder.
I ran to the library, alone.
I understand why Benedict needs this quiet space now.
I had to be by myself with my memories. I don’t have the time to work through my feelings because I must become in control of my emotions like Ambrose is.
How does he manage it?
His mom will be here any moment, and I’m still trembling.
I’m in a daze.
How the fuck am I going to pull this off?
Swan sits behind me, pulling a brush gently through my hair. Something about the familiarity of the gesture, which reminds me of every morning that Swan would do this for me in the academy, settles me.
We both need this.
Swan found me in the library in the middle of the night, crawling in to join me in the nest. When I felt his cheek resting on my shoulder, it was wet.
Ambrose must have told him the truth .
Felix was Swan’s friend. More than that, he’d taken on the unofficial father role in the academy to the younger dancers.
Felix was the kind Beta who helped Swan survive his childhood and adapt to the strict rules of the academy.
Just like me, Swan thought that someone he loved had been sent into exile or captivity, when in fact, they’d been murdered.
Even in this grief, we’re united.
I fucking wish that we weren’t.
This morning, Swan pulled on his crumpled gray suit. Then he fetched me a lavender dress, pulling it over my head and doing up the buttons for me because even that felt beyond me. My fingers felt like they no longer worked.
“They used your mom to control you.” Swan places down the brush, tidying my hair behind my ear. “They used our fear of what happened if you ran like Felix in the same way. But we’re free now. They can’t control us through those fears anymore.”
I give a bitter smile. “Then I’d rather be caged.”
“Would you? It was all lies. Who wants to live trapped in an illusion?”
I grit my teeth. “I’m going to get justice for Mom.”
Swan helps me to my feet, smoothing out both our clothes like he needs something to do with his hands. “For Felix too.”
“And Amby. Jacob and his own mom stabbed him and threatened to kill him. He was still a kid but he’s been silenced by this secret.”
Swan’s eyes flame. “He’s been forced to live in darkness. He’s been controlled by it too.”
“It’s three minutes and twenty eight seconds past nine, precisely.” Benedict leans in the doorway. “The Head Alpha and Laurent have arrived. They’re twenty-seven minutes ahead of schedule. My routine is wrong, wrong, wrong. They’re in the lounge with the Alphas. Olivia dragged me out of bed and then sent me here to collect you. We’re meant to present ourselves.”
Benedict is quivering.
These changes and surprises are wrecking him.
He looks like he’s just woken up and thrown his clothes on in a panic.
Benedict’s velvet suit with a waistcoat that’s covered in gold threaded fox designs is creased. Several buttons on his waistcoat and shirt beneath are undone.
An Oxford cravat is loosely tied around his neck.
Seeing him and smelling how curdled his honey scent is in his distress, snaps me back into the present.
My mind is clearer.
I’ve lost Mom, along with my wish and hope to be united with her.
But I have a new family who need my support and focus.
I don’t imagine that Olivia is the kind of Head Alpha who accepts anything but immaculate Omegas.
I rush across the library. “Can I fix these?”
I point at Benedict’s buttons.
He nods.
Carefully, I do up his buttons, and he rubs his cheek against mine, enjoying the closeness.
His scent becomes sweeter.
Swan swaggers to join us, carding his fingers soothingly through Benedict’s curls at the same time tidying him.
At last, Benedict looks presentable.
“Okay?” I ask.
Benedict hunches his shoulders. “The Head Alpha doesn’t like me. I expect her harshness. But my fear is that our plans were based on her not returning for a couple of weeks. She is trying to catch out Ambrose and she will be furious about his bonding without permission.”
My blood freezes. “How do we play this?”
I’m about to face a murderer.
Someone who was complicit in my mom’s murder.
Who wouldn’t think twice about killing her own son to protect her company’s reputation.
I’m in more danger than I’ve ever been.
We all are.
Swan appears to know it, slipping his arm around my shoulders, as well as Benedict’s. “We’ve got a long game here because I want to take down the whole fucking lot of them. So, we let her play her little games and think that she has the upper hand still. By law, the Head Alpha has the authority. She doesn’t know that the secret is out. Ambrose isn’t alone against her anymore. These elite bitches think that they run the world. I say, let them. Until the moment that we’re ready to strike.”
Benedict glances out of the corner of his eye at Swan. “Ambrose should let you plot with us.”
Swan smirks. “He should.”
“But what if she hurts…” Benedict nuzzles against me. “She hurts me, after all.”
“She can hurt me. My bet is that Ambrose and Vito think the same. But I won’t let her hurt either of you,” Swan snarls.
“You will.” My gaze becomes determined. “If we have one shot at convincing her that we’re not a threat, then we take it. This is for Mom, Felix, ourselves, and every dancer in academies and companies across the globe. Hell, this is for every Omega and Beta without a voice. If we can endure just a couple of days more, then we can work together this time to change things for everybody.”
This time, Swan and Benedict give adamant nods.
Then we take each other’s hands, as we march together out of the library, down the grand, marble staircase and toward the lounge.
For the first time since yesterday, I’m not numb.
I’m scared but resolute.
I can feel it wind around the other men in the bond, settling over their distress, which has been unsettled in the background for the last hour, beneath my fogged grief that has muted them.
I push open the lounge door, keeping my chin tilted up, as we step into the lounge together.
The cold morning light shines through the high windows and gleams on the lounge’s marble and golds, highlighting the antique vases and mirrors. Satin ribbons dangle from the central chandelier.
Scented candles are burning on the coffee tables. My nose wrinkles at the spicy scent of cinnamon and cloves.
The open fire blazes in the fireplace, which is decorated with wreathes festooned with scarlet robins and pine cones, but there’s no warmth in the room.
It’s frozen by the stone cold bitch, Olivia Romeo.
Olivia lounges elegantly on the burgundy couch to the side of the fir tree, which drips with glass baubles like bubbles, gilded ribbons, strands of gold beads, and hundreds of Ambrose’s rose shaped paper decorations that look like the notes Ambrose once gave me.
I bristle, hating that she’s so close to something that represents his love for me.
She’s violating it: Ambrose’s first declaration .
When Olivia casually reaches out, toying with a paper decoration, tearing at its edges, my heart stutters to a stop.
She knows.
Fuck, she’s smart.
Cruel.
And dangerous.
Olivia is dressed in a flowing golden, silk dress. It flutters like leaves around her all the way to her ankles.
She should be beautiful.
She is, startlingly.
But her amber eyes, which are the same shade as Ambrose’s, are so hard that it makes her look as ugly to me on the outside, as I know she is on the inside.
Her straight, golden hair is pinned back with rose clips.
Next to Olivia, entwined in a way that makes me uneasy, is Laurent.
I smile at him, before I can stop myself. I’ve missed my friend.
Laurent’s cool, gray eyes study me, however, as if I’m a stranger.
I falter, before I realize that he’s better than his brother at playing the game around Olivia.
He’s had to be.
I blank my expression.
Laurent’s waist long blond hair, which is feathered around his face, is also made pretty with rose clips like he’s about to do a model shoot.
But then, he’s usually dressed up like this, in a gray suit with glimmering waistcoat that’s embroidered with roses, which is too restrictive and buttoned up to his neck, as if he’s a designer handbag for his mom to carry.
Laurent’s face is still as sharp as a blade.
It’s always been Olivia’s mistake to underestimate him.
When Swan directs Benedict and me further into the room without letting go of our hands, I gasp.
Now, I’ve skirted the armchairs, I can see that the two Alphas are kneeling in front of the couch, almost close enough to touch Olivia’s feet.
My cheeks redden with rage.
No Alpha should be forced to kneel.
“Amby,” I whisper, before Swan squeezes my hand in warning.
Ambrose glances around but he’s looking at Benedict.
Benedict drops my hand and signs something.
My eyes widen.
What did that mean?
Is it a secret message? Their way of tricking Olivia?
Immediately, Ambrose’s expression shutters, and he turns back to face Olivia.
I don’t miss the way that he slips his hand to Vito’s thigh and taps something.
This time, I can tell by the rhythm that it’s Morse code.
Shit, these guys truly did get prepared last night, while I was grieving with Swan.
Did Benedict just pass on our decision to take whatever Olivia does to us in order to throw her off our scent, and by letting her think that she’s in control, actually destroy her once and for all?
“Why did you take so long to get them, bad Omega?” Olivia’s frosty voice makes Benedict flinch. Hell, it’s harder than I thought not to speak up. I bite my cheek — hard. “Are you lazy or just dumb? I don’t know why you saddled yourself with such a pretty but defective Rej, Ambrose. Could you have gone any slower, Omega?”
Swan shakes his head at me.
This is a test.
The thought slams through me.
I meet Olivia’s eye.
Her gaze is glittering with dark amusement.
Vito and Ambrose’s shoulders are stiff with tension. I can see how close they’re kneeling; their thighs are touching.
It’s to give each other strength. Not reacting is a thousand times harder than jumping up and protecting their pack.
Olivia knows how to hurt us.
Confused, Benedict blinks. “Yes, I could have gone slower. Did you want me to?”
Olivia laughs, meanly. “Dumb it is.”
Laurent’s expression becomes tight. “Mom, one of my clips has fallen out.”
Olivia coos, but it’s the least maternal thing that I’ve ever heard.
She snatches Laurent by the hair and yanks him painfully toward her; he hisses. “Has it? Poor, dear. Let me see.”
He’s trying to distract Olivia’s attention onto himself.
Grateful, I pull Benedict after me toward the fireplace. Swan prowls after me, standing protectively in front of us.
Olivia makes a show of adjusting Laurent’s clips but with enough force that I know it’s a punishment.
She pretends that it’s not, and so does Laurent, who acts unaffected.
“Thank you, Mom,” Laurent finally says, as she pets his head gently like a moment ago she wasn’t dragging her nails along his scalp.
“Now, your brother is a good Omega.” Olivia tightens her hand on Laurent’s neck. Ambrose’s rage heightens through the bond but he doesn’t react. “Wipe that sour expression off your face, Amby. You should be happy that your mom is back home. We’re finally together again as a family. Although, we need to be careful. You know about the kidnappings that have been happening in Sanctum. Beautiful elite Omegas and Betas are being stolen by gangs. The news says that it’s getting worse by the day, Omegas even taken from people’s homes. Social media posts are going viral about it. Will you help to protect your brother?”
Protect Laurent?
Hasn’t Ambrose been doing that all his life? Except, protecting him from this woman.
“Of course.” Ambrose’s voice is steady. “I’d die to keep him safe. Still, how is what we do any different? The Betas are bought by us and kept locked in our academies. They dance until they bleed, and that’s what our business empire is built on.”
Silence.
I’m impressed, when I know what facing his mom on his knees must be doing to Ambrose.
Laurent’s expression softens for a moment.
“I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear that,” Olivia says, stiffly. “If the board knew you thought like that, you’d sink the company.”
“It’s lucky we’re in private then.”
“You little brat…”
Vito looks up, hurriedly. “It’s great to finally meet you, Laurent. You’re my family too, since you’re Ambrose’s bro. We should go out to a bar for a beer or something.”
Laurent splutters with laughter, before catching himself. “ Bro , I’m not allowed to go to bars, to drink beer, or whatever the something is. I’m simply a pretty bauble, property of the Romeo’s business empire too.”
When Olivia calmly slaps Laurent across the cheek, I jump.
Laurent’s head snaps to the side, and a crimson handprint blossoms across it.
He doesn’t say anything, merely turning his head back like nothing has happened. His cheek is already swelling.
“Baubles don’t speak in the presence of Alphas. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve messed up your hair again.” Olivia firmly adjusts Laurent’s hair, which has been mussed by the strength of her slap.
Laurent holds himself still, deathly pale.
Next to me, Swan’s breathing is ragged. I can tell how hard he’s holding himself back.
Ambrose has grasped Vito’s hand and is crushing it against his knee. He’s forcing him to stay on his knees and not to fight back.
He’s tapping something else secretly to him in Morse code again.
I turn to Benedict, mouthing against his neck, “Let her win the battle to win the war.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let her have the power now,” I whisper against Benedict’s throat. “So, we can take it from her later.”
Benedict nods. “Like moves in chess.”
Olivia looks Vito up and down, contemptuously. “Taking an Omega for a beer…? What kind of etiquette does your Second Alpha know? Ambrose, not only have you bonded without permission but you’ve bonded to trash.”
Vito’s ears redden. He ducks his head.
I ball my hands into fists.
Fuck her.
Vito is better than any elite I’ve met.
I hate the way that they’re talking about Vito in front of him like he’s not even there.
“My Second Alpha,” Ambrose meets Olivia’s eye, “is a respectable baker. He may not be from the circles that we move in but he’s the perfect choice because he can bake, cook, and look after my household. I’m dominant and I don’t want another dominant elite in my household, challenging me for my position.”
“ Hmm ,” Olivia tilts her head, “I can understand that. You take after me. It’s why I never claimed a Second Alpha. I want to be the only Alpha in charge. But that man clearly lacks proper training. Look at him: leather trousers, tattoos, and nail varnish. How can a Romeo be seen in public with a bad Alpha like that?” We all wince on the bad Alpha . “How about sending him for a two week refresher course at the Alpha Center? One of those short, sharp, shock courses? It’ll set him straight from the beginning, then you’ll have no more trouble from him.”
“ No ,” the word bursts from me.
It’s involuntary.
I know about those courses because once, when he was fifteen and Silvanus lost his top spot on the football team to Ambrose, I overheard Jacob threatening to send Silvanus on a youth version over the holidays.
He even left the gold embossed brochures with him.
Silvanus sat with his knees drawn up behind his bed, flicking through the brochures, terrified.
I crammed myself next to him, reading through the glossy brochure that listed the horrors of a course that was meant to turn Silvanus from a bad Alpha into a good one.
But actually meant disciplining, brainwashing, and breaking him.
That night, I secretly spread the word on the ranch about Jacob’s plans, and enough of the pack begged Jacob not to send Silvanus there.
Silvanus is loved. Members are loyal to him because he’s good to everyone, including the Betas and the dancers.
The next day, the brochures were put away.
Vito’s shaking, but to my shock, he replies, “I’m sorry that I let my Chief Alpha down. I don’t always know the right thing to say. If you think that it’s best for me to be conditioned in the Alpha Center, after the mandatory bonding period, then okay. I want to be the best that I can be. But may I stay to watch the Rose vs Slipper Ballet Contest, before you send me away? I know how important it is and I want to learn about the company.”
Fuck, Vito has balls.
We must find a way to unmask Olivia by the end of the contest, or Vito will be sent to the Alpha Center.
My pulse races. I’m sweating.
Benedict whines, and I hold onto him tighter.
Olivia arches her eyebrow in surprise. “Perhaps, you did choose well, Ambrose. He’s biddable at least. All right, you may stay to watch the contest, before you’re sent to the Alpha Center. Ambrose, order the brochures today, in order to select the appropriate course.”
Ambrose looks wound so tight that he may snap but he nods.
“However,” Olivia’s gaze becomes sharper, “you didn’t only bond with an Alpha without permission. You bonded with an Omega — a Cinders .”
“She’s my fated bond,” Ambrose replies as frostily as his mom, “and they’re protected by law.”
Olivia glances between us in shock. Then her eyes narrow.
“All that means, dear, is that I can’t break this bond but I don’t need to.” Olivia’s voice is softly dangerous. “You’ve always wanted to sacrifice everything for your enemy’s sake. Are you still this self-destructive or is this simply a childish way to get back at me?”
“Neither,” Ambrose calmly replies, “it’s love.”
Despite the danger, my heart flutters.
“ Love? ” Olivia snorts. “You’re a Romeo. You have a duty to this company, and that means proving to me that you can run it in a level-headed way.”
“I can.” Ambrose shifts on his knees. “Being in love doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge of every member as firmly as you are.”
“Prove it.” Olivia looks delighted like Ambrose has just walked into her trap. “Give Juliet an Alpha Command to take the fifth position and hold it.”
Horrified, I back against the wall.
I’m whimpering.
An Alpha Command is a deep, biological command that an Omega can’t resist, which winds through every cell of their body.
It’s painful and violating.
It would turn me into a motionless doll. I would truly be trapped inside my body.
Benedict bares his teeth, stepping in front of me at the same time as Swan puffs out his chest.
I peer over Swan’s shoulder at Ambrose.
He’s turned to look at me, agonized.
I can tell that for the first time, he truly doesn’t know whether he can follow his mom’s order and go along with our own plan.
Vito is glancing between us, unsure.
Suddenly, I know what I must do.
I may be the Omega here but I’m the one who can save us.
Ambrose is hesitating, allowing me to make the decision. No one has given that to me before.
An Omega, I will save our plan.
Pretending to be chastened, I deftly step around both Benedict and Swan into the center of the room. Then I raise my arms above my head in an oval position. My feet are elegantly turned out, pressed together, with the heel of the right foot pressed to the toe of the left.
It’s a difficult, excruciating position. But I’ve practiced it daily.
I catch sight of the ballet fairy on the top of the tree, who is balancing in the same position as I am.
Ambrose lifts his chin. “She obeys without the need for an Alpha Command. She’s been well trained within the academy. She’s no longer the enemy but rather, is my sweet mate. They all are. Do you think that I’d bond with anybody who wasn’t obedient? I like my cars fast and wild but my bonded, like Benedict, quiet and good .”
Benedict stuffs his hands in his pockets and glows on the good.
Olivia gives Ambrose a long look.
My muscles quiver, as I hold the position.
Olivia pushes Laurent away from her onto a pile of cushions.
Ambrose and him exchange a glance, before they covertly sign to each other as well.
A secret plan is going on here under this bitch’s nose, and it makes standing here on display fucking worth it.
Until Olivia, that is, reaches to the back of the couch and draws out a sword.
Vito launches himself to his feet. “Woah, calm down.”
My breathing speeds up, but I hold the pose.
Swan shoves Benedict behind him.
I notice that Ambrose hasn’t moved, although his gaze is fixed with worrying intensity on the blade, and his breathing has become labored.
Is he about to tumble into a panic attack?
“It’s a prop.” Olivia toys with the sword, which is long with a handle that’s decorated with roses. The sun glints off the blade. “I picked up a pair of these in Paris. They use real swords there for their duels in Romeo and Juliet , so that it sounds as well as looks real. Don’t you think that authenticity is important?”
Laurent attempts to draw further back onto the couch but stops at a nudge of Olivia’s foot.
Fast as a snake strike, Olivia leans forward and rests the tip of the blade on Ambrose’s cheek over his scar.
I forget how to breathe.
Ambrose’s breathing, however, speeds up, until his chest is rising and falling too rapidly.
“Amby, control yourself,” Laurent orders, more dominantly than I’ve heard any Omega speak. “Don’t. Move.”
Only Laurent could sound like that.
I don’t think that he’s shown this side of himself in front of his mom before.
He’s taking a hell of a risk for his brother.
Olivia arches her brow in thought but doesn’t look away from Ambrose.
With more self-discipline than I believed even Ambrose had, he takes a single deep breath, dragging himself back from the edge of panic attack and holding himself as still as a statue.
I glance out of the corner of my eye at the way that Swan is deliberately holding Benedict behind him.
Benedict is the one who has broken, unable to cope with so many sudden changes and shocks in a row.
When Benedict growls, Laurent launches himself over the back of the couch in a move that’s far more athletic than you’d guess an untrained elite like him was capable of (except, Swan’s secretly taught him dance for years). He then nuzzles Benedict in his arms, even though I know that touch is hard for him.
Laurent is whispering to Benedict in a calm tone.
Laurent looks like a beautiful, sweet model, but fuck, he’s the type of Omega who I’ve wished that I could be: dangerously calculating and collected.
Except, his sharpness is brittle…fragile.
“Stop,” Vito bares his teeth, looking like he’s ready to tear out Olivia’s throat. “Send me to the Alpha Center but don’t hurt your own son—”
“Tell your puppy to back off, unless you want me to make you even uglier,” Olivia says, icily.
I wince.
Bitch.
Ambrose is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.
When Olivia nicks Ambrose’s cheek with a casual flick of her wrist, blood trickles down like a tear.
“Kneel.” Ambrose’s voice is tight. “Show our Head Alpha that my fated know what it means to be a Romeo.”
Vito’s expression lightens like he understands.
Our plan still stands.
Benedict relaxes.
This isn’t about Olivia. This is about supporting each other through this.
Vito drops to his knees. “I’m sorry. Alpha instincts took over to fight for my pack, yeah?”
Olivia inclines her head. “It’s good to see but so is your obedience.”
At last, she removes the blade from Ambrose’s cheek, and he slumps forward. Vito snatches hold of his hand, squeezing.
Ambrose’s eyes blaze. “May we leave now or are there other props that you’d like to test?”
Olivia stands, twirling the sword.
She wanders to the side of the couch. “I haven’t finished trying this one out yet.”
She clicks her fingers at Swan. “Here, Beta.”
She points to the spot directly in front of her.
Swan clenches his hands but straightens his shoulders. He glances at me first though.
Not at his Alphas — at me, his Omega.
I give a tiny nod.
Stick to the plan.
Swan has never obeyed rules or orders.
Normally, he’d be fighting against this or at least, throwing around sassy comments. But this is the Head Alpha of an organization that we’re trying to take down.
And she’s the only one with a weapon.
Still, that’d never stop Swan. He’s thrown himself into fights with six to one odds before and struggled to take on giants like Dimitri.
But this time, the struggle is with himself to control the rebel and act the submissive.
Shit, that’s going to be the hardest fight of his life.
Swan ducks his head, swaggering to stand in front of Olivia, deliberately slouching.
Olivia stalks around Swan, looking him up and down like he’s a designer hat in a shop that she’s deciding whether to buy and wear or reject.
She presses herself hard against him. “Despite the fact that you should never have bonded with the Cinders girl, you did at least choose a good Beta at Ballet Bonding Night. Swan is by far the best dancer that we have. He reminds me of your dad’s fluid grace. He mesmerized me on that stage. Talented and beautiful.”
Ambrose glowers. “Then why don’t you allow Dad to dance?”
My skin crawls at the way that Olivia reaches out and trails her fingers along Swan’s shoulder.
Don’t touch, my Swan.
I swallow a growl.
I startle, however, when Olivia takes a step back and then drops the sword to hold it across Swan’s hamstrings.
Swan’s eyes go wide with fear.
I tremble. My pulse skyrockets.
Swan’s helpless gaze finds out Ambrose’s.
“You’re still angry that I don’t allow your dad to dance.” Olivia sighs. “I hoped that you’d have matured and grown to understand, now that you have a Beta dancer of your own. These creative types are highly strung. They’re prone to hysterics and anxiety. They’re not the same as the rest of us. In their own way, they’re as defective as Benedict.” Benedict flinches, sinking to the floor and stroking compulsively over his suit. “Of course, they can entrance you on a stage. But once you decide to remove them from the academy and bring them into your home, you need to take precautions. You must tame them, taking away stimulants that can unbalance Betas (who should be calm and sensible), like dance and music. Or put them on medications. It’s your choice.”
Take away their dance or put them on meds…?
Is that how these Alphas view Betas? They’d prefer them as unhappy zombies than full of shining life?
“They’re perfect just as they are.” Ambrose never looks away from the way that the blade is balanced against the back of Swan’s legs like a threat.
We all know what would happen if Olivia sliced across his hamstrings.
Olivia’s expression hardens. “If you won’t stop them flying dangerously close to the sun, dear, then I must for your sake and theirs. You’ll thank me. You’re making a mistake letting a strong Beta like him dance in the contest. Do you know what would happen, if I were to cut his tendons…just…here?”
At the light touch of the blade, Swan’s cheek twitches.
Sweat drips down from my forehead into my eyes. My muscles are screaming at me to drop my pose but I don’t because I won’t risk pushing Olivia into slashing Swan.
Is she really going to do this?
Is she simply trying to see if she can make Ambrose break?
Ambrose launches himself to his feet, at the same time as Vito does.
“Perhaps, you’re right.” Ambrose’s voice, however, is as icy as his mom’s. “What do you think, Swan?”
Swan doesn’t reply.
Fuck.
This can’t be happening.
Ambrose is bluffing.
I know that he’s bluffing.
But is Olivia?
“And to answer your question, he’d bleed all over the expensive floor of your lounge.” Ambrose arches his brow.
“He’d never dance again.” When it’s Olivia who breaks, losing her control and growling, I can’t quite hide the thrill of triumph, despite the terror that her words inspire. “Or properly walk. But he’d be held fully under your control. Should I do it?”
She’s trapped Ambrose.
He can’t say yes.
And if he says no, then he’s challenging her authority. Our scheme to take on these dangerous, powerful people would be over before it’d begun.
No wonder it’s taken Ambrose this many years to be allowed back to England.
Olivia is wily.
“Do it,” Swan forces himself to say, taking the decision out of Ambrose’s hands. He’s trembling, and his eyes look wild. But his voice is steady. “I’ll do whatever’s best for the people I love.”
And hell, I know that’s true.
When Olivia raises the sword, I drop out of my pose and throw myself toward Swan.
Fuck the plan.
Fuck justice, saving the world, and even freedom.
Swan comes first .
Yet Swan doesn’t move an inch to save himself.
At the last moment, however, Olivia twists and slashes the sword down on the pile of cushions on the couch.
I scream.
Feathers are thrown up into the air like snow.
I desperately breathe in Swan’s citrus and strawberry scent.
I’m relieved deep in my soul that he’s still standing and not collapsed on the floor in a tangy, copper puddle of blood.
“My Swan.” I cling to Swan, and he wraps his arms tightly around me.
Olivia strolls to Ambrose, patting him on his bloodied cheek with an affection, which could be real or faked. “Good boy. It looks like you have matured. I shall allow you to keep your bonded pack. They simply need more conditioning. But they have potential under my guiding hand. And you may use the Beta and Omega in the contest.”
Ambrose gives a curt nod.
Vita is ashen, staring at Olivia in shock. “You’re even more brutal and unhinged than my dad.”
Olivia’s lips thin. “And you will attend a course at the Alpha Center as soon as the contest is over to adjust that attitude of yours. Look at my son, vibrating with fury and hate but still not back talking because he knows his place. I hope that he’s also grateful that I’m allowing his Beta to fly one more time. If his Beta doesn’t perform and win the contest, however, then it won’t be a cushion that I’ll be slashing next time.”