Prologue ABBIE #2
Wings rises to his feet beside me, his panic making his voice strain. “Why can’t we just work around it, Ark? We’re not fucking animals. We don’t have to act like the other asshole alphas in this place.”
“No, but you can’t stick your heads in the sand, either,” he says with a sigh. “You’re joining up in six months, Wings. Who’s gonna see her through her heats, then?”
“You could,” I say quickly, because there’s always been something between us, even if we’ve never acknowledged it out loud.
My dad was Booker’s Road Captain and one of the strongest alphas in the club.
If he’d lived, and if Ark wasn’t such a hard person to know, maybe there’d already be an understanding between us.
“You’re strong, and everyone knows you’ll be Pres one day.
If you tell them to back off, they’ll listen. ”
Something complicated crosses his face, and when I glance at Wings, he’s looking at Ark with pity. “Butterfly...”
I jerk my arm away from his, my face burning with more than fever. “What? You think I’m not good enough for him?”
“Jesus Christ,” Ark mutters, rubbing his face so hard I can hear his scruff scratch his palm.
The fact that he’s old enough to have a beard the same dirty blond color as his hair should give me pause, but I’m desperate.
Besides, Ark has always been there for me, even when I was just a wide-eyed kid begging for a ride on his dirt bike.
“Would it be so bad?” I ask them both. “You’re friends, and plenty of packs start that way.”
“Booker will never let it happen…” Wings mutters, but my gaze snaps back to Ark, who’s suddenly so close my knuckles could brush the leather of his cut.
If I thought he was potent when he was across the room, he’s devastating up close, and I swallow hard as arousal wets my sleep shorts.
It’s not omega slick, but it’s the next best thing, and I watch Ark’s nostrils flare as he catches the scent.
“How is that gonna work, Abbie? You aren’t ready to take my knot. ”
I lift my chin, annoyed at the reminder that he’s older and more experienced than me.
He doesn’t flaunt his bed partners like other alphas in the club, but I hear plenty of gossip from the older girls about his skills between the sheets.
“If the sweetbutts can satisfy you, I can, too. I’m built for it, right? I’m made for an alpha like you.”
He’s so close I can see his pupils dilate, the black leaking into his chocolate brown irises. “You don’t know the kind of fire you’re playing with right now.”
I can’t repress a shiver, even if my fever is coating my skin in sweat.
“I’m not afraid of you, Ark. I’m only scared of being thrown out.
” There’s barely an inch of space between us, but I fill it, running my clammy hands up his corded arms. They’re still folded over his chest, but they’re bare under his cut, and his skin is warm and smooth under my fingers.
“Please keep me, Ark. I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your perfect omega.”
It’s something I read in a book once, when an abducted omega was trying to tempt her alpha captor, and for an awful moment I think he’s going to laugh at me.
But then his hand slides over my cheek, cupping the hot skin.
“Fuck me. You’re already perfect, Abbie.
.. Which is why you have to get the hell out of here while you can. ”
He turns and walks away like I’m just another girl making eyes at him in the bar, and I fling myself back at Wings. “I’m sorry,” I say miserably. “I had to try.”
“He was thinking about it,” he mutters, running a soothing hand down my back. “I could smell it.”
All I can smell is the painful stench of my own humiliation.
I didn’t expect Ark to throw me on Wings’ bed and rut into me like the alpha in the book, but I thought he might offer to speak to his dad on our behalf.
If he told him he was interested in me, maybe I could just go to a clinic until my fever passes, and then he could claim me until Wings presents.
What were all those long looks across the quad if not the beginning of something more?
“Take the pills, just in case.”
I nod, popping two from the packet and swallowing them down dry. They taste as strange as they smell, and I wince at the unhappiness in Wings’ eyes. “I’m sorry, Wings,” I say again, resting my head on his shoulder. “I wish this never happened.”
“Never be sorry for being perfect, butterfly.” He casts a glance at the door, then pulls me into a blistering kiss.
I cling to his mouth, my skin tingling at the intensity of his passion.
This is all I need. Wings’ adoration makes me feel like I could fly, which is the opposite of what an alpha wants to do with his bites and knots.
“We're gonna get through this,” he says when we break apart.
“No matter what happens, I'll find my way back to you. You'll always be mine.”
My heart thuds at the finality of his words, or maybe it’s just reacting to the sound of two pairs of heavy boots on the attic steps.
I’m guessing Ark has brought reinforcements, and I don’t want to turn around.
Instead, I cling to Wings’ arms, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. Don’t look. Don’t make it real.
My nose crinkles as I register my brother’s woodsmoke scent. “Oh, hell!” Samson curses behind me. “She’s too young for this shit.”
Like Ark, his voice is deeper, the rumble of a powerful alpha. But it makes me want to turn and bolt into his arms for a whole different reason. Please, Samson. Please fight for me the way our mom never will.
“She’s nearly eighteen,” Ark says quietly. “She’s old enough for a lot of shit that we don’t want to happen.”
“You think that’s news to me?” Samson growls, then I hear his boots shuffle, his explosive sigh plucking at my raw nerves. “Fuck. You okay, Abbie?”
I turn slowly, flinching at the look of defeat on my brother’s face. We have our mom’s hazel eyes and brown hair, although his golden highlights come from the desert sun and not the bottle of dye I stole from one of the sweetbutts. “Don’t let them throw me out, Samson.”
“Nothing’s forever, Baby Bee.”
I flinch at the nickname our dad gave me when I was little. “Turning your back on me is.”
“Jesus.” Samson rubs his eyes, his woodsmoke scent turning sour as he looks at Ark. “Can't you talk to your old man?”
“You know he won't listen. Besides, I already tried.”
I look at Ark, wide-eyed. “You did?”
“I could smell her two days ago,” he goes on, staring at my brother like I’m not right in front of them. “It’s why the ride was put forward. I’ve been watching the clock ever since.”
One of Booker’s friends is the Iron Flyers’ Road Captain, responsible for planning and managing the club’s rides, but everyone knows it’s Ark who does all the work.
He’s probably the only one who could have gotten them out of the clubhouse ahead of schedule, and I feel a rush of gratitude.
He’s bought me time to fix this situation before the council members return.
“Just send me to the Restaway, then.” The old motel is one of the club’s legitimate businesses and is where they send anyone they want to keep close, but not inside the compound walls.
“I’ll get better and then come back before they do.
No one will even know I was gone. Plus, I can take the pills every day… ”
I scramble for the box of suppressants, but I catch a hint of bruised rose petals and look hopefully at the door. “Mom…”
She’s in a bathrobe, but that’s nothing unusual, since she rarely leaves our suite these days.
But my hope drains away as she cinches the belt tighter around her narrow waist and avoids my gaze.
“It’s for the best, honey. You'll be safe at the boardinghouse. There are other girls from the club there, and when Booker finds you a mate, you can come home.”
I swallow, but it still feels like there’s a noose around my neck.
“I don’t want one of Booker’s old friends!
” Everyone knows that as soon as omegas turn eighteen, he hands the unclaimed ones off to an alpha he owes money to, or someone he wants a favor from.
“I want Wings!” I back away from my mom, hating the quiver of fear in my voice. “I want to stay here with him.”
My mom shakes her head, looking over her shoulder at Patch, the club’s medic.
He was my dad’s best friend, and I’ve always thought he was the kindest alpha in the club, even if he can’t always shield us from everything.
As he steps towards me, there are tiny cracks around his eyes, like his smile is slowly falling to pieces.
“Patch!” I implore, trying to back away again, but I come up hard against Ark’s chest. I turn towards him, another plea on my lips, but I feel the sting in my neck before I can open my mouth.
I know what it means. We’ve all seen Patch sedate people in the club, but I never thought he’d do it to me.
I cling to Ark’s arms, my vision blurring as Samson’s soft leather jacket is draped around my shoulders.
I flinch, wanting to fling it off, but what if that’s the only thing they let me take with me?
I blink through my tears, Ark’s face a dark halo above me. “Please don’t send me away.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Behind me, I can hear Wings cursing and fighting, but Samson is holding him back, the strain barely showing on my brother’s alpha frame. All that strength, I think as the world narrows, blotting them out, and not a speck to give to me.
As Ark sweeps me into his arms, my heart gives a pathetic thump, but he’s not saving me. He’s just carrying me to the door. My brother’s jacket covers me like a blanket, but it’s Ark’s scent in my nose, so potent it makes my stomach burn. “I hate you, Ark.”
“It’s not forever, butterfly.”
“It is to me.”
I don’t know who can hear me, whether Wings is still struggling against my brother’s strength, or if Patch is following behind us, trying to offer some last comfort before I’m tossed into the street. But it’s Ark who’s all around me, his stony face the last thing I see as the world winks out.