Chapter 4 Knox
I knocked on the entrance to the jail, flashing my badge at the beta prison guard standing inside. She pressed a button, and a loud buzz filled the air before the door clicked open.
I scanned the room, looking for Silas. My brother had said he’d meet me here. I noticed him bent over the prison logbook, signing us in.
“Who found her?” I asked.
“A beta soldier spotted her trying to slip through the east side barricade,” he said without looking up. “Completely naked. He tackled her and brought her in for processing. That’s when she noticed the brand,” he said, as he tipped his head toward the beta guard who had just let me inside.
She turned to face me. “Sir, I saw it during intake processing and knew it wasn’t like the usual ones we get. Not a lieutenant or an enforcer, but unique, so I called it in.”
Silas slid a photograph across the desk.
My eyes narrowed.
Prison guards knew the common brands to watch for. Dragons. Lions. Hawks. Each denoted rank within the varying crime families and helped us catalog their people. But this one matched nothing recorded.
It looked like a rose. More delicate than most brands, its lines precise and delicate, seared into skin just beneath the collarbone.
I’d never seen a mark like it before.
“We suspected he had a distinct brand for his wives,” Silas said, tapping the image as he finally looked up at me. “Now we know for sure.”
“The girl is an omega,” he continued. “She can tell us how to find the others.”
I frowned. "How do you know that? Even if she is one of Marco’s wives, which one? She could be a newer acquisition, and if so, I doubt she has much intel to offer."
Silas’s mouth curved into a slow smirk as he stepped through the security door, already heading toward the cells.
“I know exactly who she is.”
Silas didn’t break stride as he spoke. “The Bellini informant I turned last year gave us most of our intel on the wives. He’s dead now.
Marco caught on before we could get much else out of him.
” He shot me a quick glance, an excited gleam in his eyes.
“But before that, he told me Marco ranked his omegas. Favorite to least favorite.”
“Depending on the size of the reward,” Silas continued, “his men get access to a wife for the night. The more valuable the favor, the more desirable the wife.”
“I know that, Silas. What about it? How does that intel help us identify her?”
My brother stopped at another security door.
“Apparently, there was only one omega no one ever requested,” he said. “Marco's least favorite.”
My brow furrowed. “Did the informant say why?”
Silas’s expression darkened. “Yeah. Apparently, she’s feral and mute. Kept locked in the basement of Marco’s personal residence for years. Never shared. Never traded.”
He keyed in a code, and the door slid open.
“That’s who we just picked up.”
Her scent hit me before I even laid eyes on her. Peach laced with spice. Feminine, sweet, warm, and unmistakably omega. Though tainted with something sour. Fear.
As we passed a few empty cells, it grew stronger, more intoxicating, until we reached the source. Silas stood in front of her cell, eyes glinting with sly amusement. That look meant he had plans for the girl.
I peered past the bars and frowned. Her cell was empty. My brother raised an eyebrow and crouched, lowering himself close to the ground.
"She's a skittish thing," he murmured, then called, "Come out, come out, little mute."
I crouched beside him, peering into the shadows beneath her cot. A flash of light revealed wide, fearful eyes, and the omega sank further beneath the alcove, almost entirely hidden in darkness.
Her scent enveloped me now, impossible to ignore. I was drawn to it, curious to see the creature who tempted me. I crouched lower and let my alpha bark roll out, low and deep.
"Come out now," I ordered. She didn’t move, rather sinking further out of view. My brow furrowed.
"Alpha bark doesn’t work on her. I’m not sure why. Seems we’re going to have to get creative extracting answers from this one," Silas said, a smirk lining his lips.
Creative methods of interrogation were my brother’s specialty.
I tried to peer under her cot again, when I noticed several trays of food sitting on the floor just beyond the bars, completely untouched.
"When’s the last time she ate?" I asked Silas.
He shrugged. "Not sure. But she’s gonna need sustenance before we get started questioning her, or she won’t last long."
My brother stood, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a key. He twisted it in the lock, and the cell door slid open. We stepped inside, but she still didn’t stir from under the bed.
Silas smirked, leaning casually against the bars. "Aw, come on, little mute. Don’t hide. My brother just wants to meet you."
"Come out," I grunted. Then added, “I won’t hurt you. Just… show yourself,” trying to soften my rough tone.
I heard a faint shuffle, but still nothing.
Silas chuckled. "She’s stubborn. I like that."
I let out a low growl of frustration. "You can’t stay hidden forever. I know you’re curious too. You want to see me as well."
She didn't respond.
My patience was thinning rapidly, so I reached under the bed, trying to wrap my hand around one of her limbs to drag her out.
Before I could grab hold, tiny, sharp teeth punctured my hand. They sank deep. I jerked back, hissing more in surprise than in pain.
"Well! Someone’s feisty,” Silas said with a laugh.
I gritted my teeth, holding back a growl. My hand throbbed, but I stayed crouched, keeping my presence steady.
"It’s okay… I know you’re scared. Just…” As my words distracted her, I suddenly reached back under her cot, grabbed her ankle and pulled her out.
She yelped, struggling wildly in my hold. Her feet kicked, nails clawed, and sharp teeth tried to sink in again. I banded my arms around her, holding tight until she realized resistance was futile and stilled in my grip.
"Just calm down. I’m not going to hurt you," I murmured against her ear, loosening my hold slightly so I wouldn’t accidentally crush her before we could interrogate her.
"Yet," Silas added, circling us, inspecting the omega I had just wrangled.
"See, little mute? We’re not so bad," Silas said with a wolfish smile. His head tilted as he studied her. Then he leaned forward, scenting her deeply. "You smell… amazing. Bet you taste just as sweet."
A small, defeated whine left her lips, but she still said nothing.
I looked down at the fragile creature in my arms. She was tiny, even for an omega.
Her skin was mottled with bruises and scrapes, her palms crusted with dried blood.
The neon orange intake uniform hung heavy on her frail frame.
It was clear she hadn’t eaten or bathed since intake.
I doubted anyone had been able to coax her out of her hiding spot.
Her body relaxed, nearly limp in my arms from exhaustion. Resisting me had drained the last reserves of her energy, and she had nothing left to give.
"I'm going to put you down on the bed," I said calmly. "If you go under it again, my brother will pull you out, and he will not be as nice as I am. Do you understand?"
I waited for her to nod, but when she remained completely still, I took it as an agreement and lowered her onto the thin plastic mattress. Her body collapsed under its own weight, curling in on itself. The only thing that moved were her cautious eyes, tracking us with unwavering attention.
Silas tilted his head, watching her for a moment before his lips parted. He began with a few simple questions to gauge her responsiveness. Standard interrogation protocol.
"What's your name, omega?"
She didn’t respond.
"Okay, not very chatty. Are you physically unable to speak, or selectively mute?"
Still silent.
He changed tactics. "Marco Bellini."
The mention of his name stiffened her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and nausea flashed across her expression. Just hearing his name seemed to make her physically ill.
Silas continued, "How long were you in his custody?"
Her eyes hardened, anger sharpening them.
"My intel suggests a long time… years. Is that true?"
She hissed.
"I'll take that as a yes. We know he's a real bastard. We also know he's been keeping you locked up, treating you…" Silas paused, surveying her wounds and emaciated state. "Badly. According to our informant, you're his least favorite omega."
Her eyes just watched, waiting.
I cut in. "Tell us your name. What should we call the runt of Marco's omega litter?"
Something in her responses told me to shift gears. I moved closer, slower, crouching to her level so I wouldn’t tower over her. Dominance wouldn’t work on her, I could feel that much. She hadn’t responded to our alpha bark, not even a flinch. That was unheard of for an omega.
The air thickened with silence. Her mouth parted slightly, then closed again.
Instead of responding, she turned onto her side, presenting us with her back. It was clear she wouldn’t give us any information willingly. Yet.
I grimaced, already knowing what came next when questions alone weren’t enough to get answers.
We had never had to interrogate an omega before. They usually gave up information as soon as an alpha bark applied pressure. But the runt was unresponsive to our barks, and even less responsive to our verbal questions and offers of help.
Even my brother, who typically leaned into the more violent aspects of our work, looked unsettled, his mouth drawn into a tight line.
I turned to him, voice low, "She won't last like this. We need to get her cleaned up and fed before bringing her to the workshop. Or we could accidentally…" I said as my voice drifted off.
"Agreed. I'll be back. Keep an eye on her and try to get her talking," he said, closing the bars and locking me into the cell with her. I leaned against the wall, watching her while my brother's footsteps retreated down the hall.