Chapter 30 #2
“Could it be a show without him, like… all the way down there?”
Rogue snorted. “A mediocre one.”
“Okay.” Again, she glanced at me, chewing on her lip, then glanced away. “But uh… are there other options?”
“Kitten?” Rogue asked, brow furrowed.
“Yup?”
“Did he set you on me?”
“What does that mean?” Her whisper was too high-pitched to be believable.
“Are you trying to defend his dignity?”
She leaned in, voice an even quieter whisper I only just caught. “If you keep being so mean, he’s gonna spank me raw.”
“Huh.” From the corner of my eye, I saw the bastard’s pupils dilate. “I’ll have to attend. Watching will help me take it much more seriously the next time I get you in trouble.”
“Alpha!”
Rogue was unphased as he dragged Thistle closer, easily capturing her whole waist with his hands as he pressed his lips to her neck—words once more just for her, and for me. “Tonight is mine, Kitten. I have a few years’ worth of payback to cram into hours.”
Thistle pulled back, her eyes dazed as she got lost in his gaze. Finally, she shot me a guilty glance and a shrug as if to say ‘I tried’. But then she broke our gaze as Ace beckoned her back to his side.
“You won’t attend shit,” I breathed once she was gone.
Rogue just chuckled. “Decor, remember, Mutt? Don’t break those rules you set. Now…” He cleared his throat, voice a normal volume. “Get me a drink.”
I didn’t move, eye twitching at the order. The stares of the others in this place felt like lasers, all watching with unquenchable curiosity.
I don’t know if they knew what to make of it, but enough hated me that I could feel the satisfaction emanating from some as I battled with the order.
“Get me a drink.” Rogue said it slower this time, challenge in his eyes as he watched me.
I don’t know how it happened—or how a man of Rogue’s size could move as quickly as he did—but in a blink, I felt my head, and muzzle, smash against the marble. Rogue had his fist on the side of the bars and was crushing me against the floor.
I shoved up, unable to control my furious growl, but he was too heavy.
Carefully, he let go of the muzzle, managing to get to his feet while still trapping the chain beneath his boot, keeping me in place. I grabbed at it, twisting to get away, but not before pain shot through my stomach as he kicked me.
I groaned, winded, chest seizing up.
“So fucking disobedient.” I could just see him, looming over me, half a grin on his face as he watched me catch my breath.
“Alpha…” I blinked at the sound of Thistle’s voice. She was saying something, but I could barely hear it through the ringing in my ears. “…Break him too much and I can’t play with him later…”
I heard Rogue chuckle, then he dropped back down into his seat, boot releasing my chain as Thistle clambered onto his lap for a kiss.
For a moment as she twisted around, her violet eyes met mine, a little too proud of herself.
She bit her lip as if she could see the calculation in my eyes, then gave Rogue another nip on the neck.
Brat.
I managed to drag myself to my feet, a lingering snarl on my face as I turned and made for the table of drinks before he could do anything else.
I jumped at a tug on the loose chain hanging from my muzzle, only to turn and find she’d hurried after me. She was winding the chain around her fist, accompanying me to the drinks table.
I glanced back at the others. Ace was shooting us a quick look, but he didn’t seem surprised.
“Help me pick a drink!” She was all but hanging from the chain as she looked up at me.
Uh… Could this be part of our act?
But it wasn’t as if Bella didn’t know that she wanted me—and I’d bitten into her pack in order to keep Thistle safe.
We were getting some curious glances as Thistle began tugging the chain, hustling us toward the table.
Actually, it probably just added to the image.
I wasn’t just Rogue’s; I was beneath even the Omega they’d seen auctioned just weeks ago.
And… Well, I’d balked at the idea of wearing a muzzle since the moment it had been spoken aloud. But watching Thistle curl my chain around her dainty little hand in front of an audience… I was possibly not against all forms of humiliation.
She really upped the act as we reached the table of drinks, clambering right up onto my back, fingers gripping the corner of the muzzle to get herself adjusted. I almost snorted, but managed to catch myself.
That would ruin the image.
Thistle proceeded to direct me in making a very precise kind of cocktail for her.
“Where did you learn this much about drinks?” I muttered after she’d flicked me in the ear for pouring just a tad too much orange in her margarita.
“Dumb Dan and his stupid pack always had me on drinks at the bar,” she said. “But I’ve never had no one make one for— Oh my god! ” She squeaked, and before I knew it, her weight was shifting on my back as she leaned to the side.
I turned, trying to see what had caught her attention. She was reaching over to one of the white-clad servers, who was setting a glass down beside us.
The woman jumped, eyes wide as she looked up at Thistle.
She looked Thistle’s age, though perhaps a bit younger.
But I never wanted to think too much about eighteen or nineteen year olds in a place like this.
She had thick blonde hair with large honey-coloured eyes, olive skin, and a slender face.
She was beautiful, as was every server here. Beautiful and haunted.
“It’s so cute!” Thistle said, holding Bunny out to it like she was comparing them. “Bunny likes it, too.”
I realised she was looking at the top of a tattoo peeking from the young Omega’s shoulder. It was a small cartoon baby deer painted in watercolour. She seemed to notice the same moment I did, as she quickly hiked the sleeve up, a flash of fear in her eyes.
I knew why—I was already logging the image internally. Tattoos were identifiers. Good information for Doyle. Not the kind of thing Bella’s pack would want on display.
I noticed a few marks across her dress, colours littering her sleeves and skirt. She was a favourite of the room. My heart turned to stone as I tried to bury what that might mean for her.
Whatever information I handed to Doyle would be used to identify a corpse.
I thought of the Misfits. The ones I had saved.
The cost of their freedom was this: having to look into the eyes of all the ones I missed.
How many times had I thought about burning it all down? Taking as many out as I could in a blaze of glory. And it would barely scratch the surface…
“I used to cry every time I watched that movie,” Thistle said, still addressing the Omega even though the tattoo was gone. “My stupid brothers told me I was a baby for it.”
The Omega looked unsure, gaze darting between Thistle, Bunny, then me, and the glass she’d just set down. As she looked back up, however, her honey eyes went eerily blank as she caught sight of something behind me.
“I wonder if you wish Manzo hadn’t saved you the other night.
” Rodrick Banner’s voice disrupted the calm blanket Thistle had placed over my temper.
I turned as he stepped up next to us, leaning against the table, drink in hand, and I noticed the white-clad woman slip away as quickly as possible.
“I can’t imagine it would have been a worse fall from grace than this. ”
I placed an umbrella in Thistle’s drink and turned away. Banner shifted forward, clearly not in the mood to be ignored, reaching toward me.
From where Thistle perched on my back, she grabbed the chain attached to my muzzle before Banner could, snatching it from the air and hugging it close as her legs dug around my waist. A delighted giggle slipped out as if it were a game.
I’d never before heard an Omega laugh with a hint of a growl rolling up her chest—but it was a sound as natural as it was unnerving.
“That’s not yours,” she whispered to Banner, voice low and delighted.
She was changing right before my eyes. Her faith in Ace was frighteningly unwavering, and it was emboldening her in ways I’d never seen.
I think Thistle was the queen Bella pretended to be—but she lived and breathed that energy. It wasn’t a mask; it was undiluted possessiveness—the intangible dominance of an Omega who knew what she wanted.
She didn’t care that Bella was my scent match, and I wasn’t hers. Feeling the way her claim crushed all of that to dust was dizzying.
Banner didn’t push the issue, strangely stiff as he looked between us. His eyes lingered on Thistle for an age, and there was something hungry in his gaze that I didn’t like.
“You like my bites?” Thistle asked. “You can’t keep your eyes off them. Does Bella have more Alphas than she can handle?”
Banner’s lip curled. “Bella lets us follow any urges while she keeps her body pure.”
Thistle snorted. “For the next Alpha once she’s done with you?”
Banner’s eyes darkened, but I took a step away, handing Thistle’s drink to her before either of them could carry on. I don’t think we were supposed to be trying to make the tension worse .
Banner stepped back, still a little too intense for my liking.
When I returned to kneel beside Rogue, it was to follow Banner’s behaviour as the party continued. He was too confident. Either he was close to a rut and his instincts were getting the better of him, or they thought they had the upper hand somehow.
He had watched our pack kill his Alphas, and it wasn’t beyond consideration that his instincts were haywire. It made this whole thing harder to read. Thistle, however, seemed to have no survival instincts left for the night. Her Ace-drug was making her insane.
It was a while before Rogue demanded another drink. With the burning ache of ongoing humiliation, this time I didn’t argue. Instead, I walked straight to the table and poured him a glass of straight lemon juice.
“…Evan Green was another. Last bid before Knox, actually.” When I returned, Rogue was talking to Ace. Not hushed enough to give them privacy, either.