Chapter 12
TWELVE
LAUREL
Father knocked on the door in front of us, his other hand giving my shoulder a hard squeeze. Anxiety spiked in my mind at his reminder to stay quiet and behave.
Never mind that we were in an area I’d never been to before, on the far side of the tracks and deep into the Gritch district.
The houses were dirty and falling apart; needles and cigarettes littered the ground.
When we’d walked along the street, everyone had taken one look at my father and his entourage and dissolved into the shadows.
Smart people.
If only I could join them.
My father had become so much more intense since I’d presented as an omega a few months ago, and it had only gotten worse after Jule’s funeral.
He’d pulled me out of school, instead sending me to a “private tutor” who was focused entirely on omega studies. When I wasn’t in one of the many classes I had to attend, my father took me with him everywhere, which meant I had to always be on.
I’d been woken this morning, instructed to dress, then taken to a mystery location for the second day in a row.
Yesterday, my father had given me a smile at breakfast.
“Your life changes today,” he’d told me. Then he’d whisked me to the institute and had me scent small vials for hours. I knew about scent matches—but surely I was too young to match with a pack?
He’d noticed as I’d stopped on one, and though I’d tried to hide it, he’d plucked the vial from my hands.
Now, the door opened with a creak, and a sallow face peeked out from behind the chain lock. His scent hit me, and my face went red; this was the same scent I’d identified yesterday.
My scent match.
I trembled under my father’s hand. This man was probably in his thirties and was now staring at me in confusion.
“The fuck is this?” he muttered, eyes darting between me and my father.
“Jason Belcarra?” my father said. “I’m Thaddeus Fairchild.”
The alpha’s face paled as he recognized my father’s name.
“I have a proposition for you. May we come in?”
I was sweating now, barely able to keep my hands from trembling as the alpha—Jason—unlocked the door, and my father marched me inside, his bodyguards close behind.
The house stank and was littered with trash. Another alpha stumbled out from the kitchen, scratching his arm, and froze when he saw us.
The walls seemed to press in on me, and I was fighting not to throw up.
“This is my daughter,” Father said. “As you may have gathered, she is your scent match. I’m willing to give you $500,000 if you offer her a princess bond.”
He waved a hand at one of his guards, who opened a briefcase on the table, showing stacks of cash. Jason’s eyes widened, and the other alpha’s mouth dropped open.
“She won’t, of course, accept it. She’ll walk away a duchess. You’ll walk away richer.”
If my father hadn’t been holding me so tightly, I might have sunk to the floor in relief.
He wasn’t making me bond with these strangers; he just wanted me to become a duchess.
A princess bond was something only my scent matches could give me. If I rejected them, my scent would change to become more alluring. I’d claim the title of duchess, the most sought-after unbonded omegas in the city.
“That’s all?” asked Jason.
“That’s all,” my father replied.
Jason scratched the back of his head, glancing at his packmate.
“Shit, dude, that’ll cover Lois’s treatment and then some,” his packmate hissed, shoving him forward. “What are you waiting for?”
Jason swallowed and looked up from the briefcase. “Uh, right now?” he said, looking down at me.
I let out a whimper that made him flinch.
“Preferably.” My father sneered, pushing me forward. I stumbled, catching myself on this strange alpha’s arm. He helped me upright with a surprisingly tender touch.
“With a bite on the neck. Where everyone can see,” my father said, tugging my head to the side and moving my hair out of the way.
I was struggling not to cry.
“You all right?” Jason asked me.
My father clicked his tongue. “Perhaps I should make myself more clear. You will offer her a princess bond, now, or I will have you shot in the head.”
Jason swallowed again and leaned forward.
I could feel his hand trembling against my skin.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispered as his mouth came closer to my neck.
He squeezed my arm, and I jolted as I realized that gesture could be comforting.
“Our sister’s really sick. Win-win, right? Be over in a sec, okay?”
I nodded, meeting his eyes briefly. I understood.
I’d do anything for Jule.
I’d do anything to have him back.
My breathing was coming in short pants as I felt his lips brush my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut as his teeth broke my skin, stiffening. It was a light blooming in my soul, an invitation. It was reverence and joy, reaching toward me.
I pushed it away as soon as it came, shoving it back toward him. He lifted his head, and I stumbled back next to my father.
“Excellent,” my father said, turning me around and facing his guards, giving a hand signal I hadn’t seen him use before.
The guards both pulled out their guns.
“No!” I screamed, trying to twist around and reach Jason—the strange alpha who’d been so gentle with me.
My father snarled and started to drag me away.
Jason’s eyes were wide, and I saw him step back, arms raised.
He started to say something as I was shoved out the door, his frantic eyes meeting mine.
Pain.
Fear.
Betrayal.
I only saw them for a split second, but the image felt burned into my soul.
The blast of gunshots tore through the space, and a half-sob, half-scream tore from me as the door closed.
That didn’t stop me from hearing a body hit the ground and screams from farther inside.
My father dragged me down the steps.
When we got to the car, he delivered a sharp slap to my tear-stained cheek.
With a choked gasp, I reined in my sobs.
“Really, Laurel, pull yourself together,” he said coldly. “Embarrassing yourself over Gritch street scum.”
He brushed off his suit as I straightened, a single last hiccup escaping before I quieted.
When I’d wiped away my tears, he nodded and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me deeper into his bitter smell.
“I want the best for you, Laurel,” he told me. “Do you know how many girls would kill to become a duchess? The world will be your oyster.”
I hated oysters.
I didn’t want the world.
I just wanted Jule.
But I was alone now. I hadn’t dared talk about what I’d seen in the coffin again. My father had made me go to a therapist, and I’d said I’d imagined it. I know I hadn’t. But it was my word against my father’s, and he wouldn’t hesitate to declare me insane if he wanted.
“Well?” my father said expectantly, pulling back and looking at me. I gave him a watery smile, my face feeling stretched and tight.
I needed to survive.
Because there was still a chance for me to find out what had happened to Jule.
Even if there was the smallest chance he was alive, I’d take it.
“T-thank you, Father.”
He wanted me to be a duchess, and I was good at pretending.
Duchesses stood proud and tall, and didn’t care about Gritch street trash.
So, I didn’t look back at the run-down house as I stepped into the open car door.