Chapter 12
Ilet myself into my apartment building with one arm wrapped around the huge stuffed fox, its synthetic fur tickling my chin as I juggle my keys and hit the elevator button with my elbow. The day with Orien fills me with warm, unfamiliar feelings I’m not quite ready to put a name to. Not yet.
Faint pine cleaner and the remnants of someone’s perfume linger in the elevator. I lean against the back wall as it groans its way up to my floor.
“You’re the most expensive toy I’ve ever had,” I murmur to the fox, whose beady stare holds no judgment. “The only toy I’ve ever owned, actually, with no educational purpose whatsoever.”
The fox stares back, its stitched smile unchanging as the elevator stops on my floor with a metallic ping. The door slides open, and I step out into the corridor.
The whole day still doesn’t seem real. I’ve never spent hours…playing. Every moment has always served a mission, an objective, a purpose beyond my own enjoyment. Even at family gatherings, I’m performing a role to be seen as the perfect brother, the loyal subordinate, and an asset to the family.
But today, with Orien…
I run a hand through my hair, wincing as my fingers catch on the sparkle clip in my hair.
A subtle sweetness clings to my cardigan from the cotton candy I bought at the end.
The childish indulgence has me grinning despite the heat creeping into my cheeks at the memory of Orien insisting it was bigger than my head.
He’d held the fox for me, though, and even taken the bite of pink fluff when I held it to his lips.
The fox bounces on my thigh with each step, its oversized head occasionally blocking my view of the floor ahead. It’s ridiculous, really. Almost as ridiculous as the way my stomach does a little flip at the thought of Orien joining me in my apartment in a few minutes.
Should I greet him at the door in my bathrobe?
Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I stop in front of my door and put the key in the lock. I’m just about to open it when I sense movement at my back.
The hair on the back of my neck rises a split second before hands shove me from behind. My chest hits the door with enough force to knock the air from my lungs, the fox bouncing from my hold as I throw my arms out to catch myself.
A heavy body pins me from behind, smelling of alcohol and stale sweat, and a hand tangles in my hair, wrenching my head back hard enough to sting.
“Think you’re too good for me?” The slurred words come with spittle hitting the back of my neck. “Embarrassing me in front of my friends?”
“Get off me.” I try to shove him off, but he’s too heavy, with sixty pounds on me.
“You think that other Alpha can protect you?” His hand slides from my hair to my throat, fingers digging in below my nape guard. “Think he’s gonna be there when—”
I drive my elbow back into his ribs, twisting at the same time to break his hold on my hair. The movement slams us both into my apartment door, the wood rattling in its frame.
I catch a glimpse of him beneath a lowered baseball hat and recognize him as the Alpha who approached me at the Blue Note that first night.
The one who I slammed into the bar when he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Alcohol and rage have turned the Alpha’s complexion florid.
Whatever nerve he needed for this attack came from the bottom of a bottle.
He grapples with me, stretching my cardigan. “You’re a tease. Just another stuck-up Omega who thinks—”
“I don’t think anything.” I go for his balls, but he blocks it, and my knee lands on his leg instead. “Let go of me!”
He shoves me harder into the door as he fumbles with the knob, and we crash into my apartment.
He lands on top of me on the hard floor, his weight driving the air from my lungs, and he starts pawing at me, uncoordinated but determined.
“I’ve been watching you.” His breath is hot on my ear, sour with alcohol. “Waiting for your boyfriend to leave you alone. And now…” His hand drops to my hip, fingers digging in through the fabric of my trousers. “Now I collect what I’m owed.”
I twist and strain beneath him, and his hard cock grinds into my ass.
Revulsion burns through me like acid. “Get off of me!”
He laughs, the sound ugly. “Or what? Are you gonna call your boyfriend? He’s not here.”
He’s right. Orien isn’t here. He’s still circling the block, looking for parking, unaware of what’s happening. I’m on my own.
“You and me,” he groans, “are gonna have some fun.”
I buck hard beneath his weight, throwing him off balance enough to drag myself across the floor. He scrambles after me, one hand swiping for my ankle, and I kick free to stumble to my feet.
He lunges.
I duck under his outstretched arm, twisting away from his grasp, and drive my elbow into his kidney. The blow lands with a satisfying thud, and the Alpha howls, spinning toward me with dark fury.
“You little—”
I don’t give him time to finish. My next strike targets his knee, the heel of my boot connecting with the side of his joint. He staggers but doesn’t go down, and his answering swing catches me across the jaw, sending me stumbling back into my desk.
The sleek glass top cracks, splintering beneath me as I hit the floor. Pain shoots up my spine, but I roll to the side as the Alpha lunges, his fist striking the hardwood where my head had been a second before.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “You can still walk away.”
“From an Omega?” He charges again, and this time I’m ready, sidestepping and using his momentum to send him crashing into my bookshelf.
Novels scatter with a series of thuds, and the Alpha swears as he rights himself. Blood trickles from a cut above his eye, his breath comes in ragged pulls, and his rage turns uglier.
“I’m gonna make you regret the day you walked into the Blue Note,” he snarls, circling me with the careful steps of someone who’s been in enough fights to know better than to rush in again.
My back hits the wall beside my kitchenette. “You need to leave.”
He lunges again, quicker than before, and his fingers close around my throat, squeezing as he drives me back into the side of the fridge. “I don’t think so.”
Black spots dance through my vision as his grip tightens, his weight pinning me in place. My hands find his wrists, trying to break his hold, but he’s bigger, stronger, and rage fuels every movement.
“Should have stayed with your boyfriend,” he hisses, spittle hitting my cheek. “Should have—”
I bring my knee up between his legs, and this time the blow lands solid. The Alpha’s grip loosens enough for me to twist away, dragging air into my burning lungs as I stumble into the kitchen.
He’s on me in seconds, grabbing the back of my shirt and yanking me off balance. I land hard, my chin striking the tile with enough force to rattle my teeth, and his weight comes down on my back, one hand fisting in my hair.
“You’re gonna pay,” he growls, dragging my head back. “For everything.”
My fingers scrabble across the tile, reaching for anything I can use as a weapon. They close around the leg of my kitchen stool, and I swing it back as hard as I can, the wood connecting with his shoulder.
The Alpha yelps, his weight lifting far enough for me to roll free. I’m back on my feet in an instant, backing toward the counter as he rises, fury etched into every line of his face.
“You’re dead,” he says, and charges.
I sidestep again, but he’s learning, and his arm shoots out to catch me around the waist. His momentum carries us both into the kitchen, my back hitting the counter with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. His hand returns to my throat again, and he lifts me, my feet leaving the floor.
“Think you’re so special?” he snarls from inches away. “You’re nothing.”
The world begins to narrow, black spots scattering through my vision as his grip tightens. My fingers scrabble across the counter behind me, searching for anything I can use.
They close around the marble wine chiller Alexei gave me last Christmas, heavy stone carved into the shape of a lion, the gag gift a covert joke about the meaning of my name.
I swing it up and around, putting all my weight behind the blow. It connects with the side of the Alpha’s head with a sickening thud.
His grip on my throat vanishes as he drops, his head striking the counter on the way down with a stomach-turning crack. He lands sprawled across my kitchen tiles in a growing pool of blood.
The sudden silence rings in my ears.
I stand frozen, the wine chiller still clutched in my hand, blood spattered across my cardigan and the front of my cream shirt. My breath comes in wheezing gasps, my heart hammering as I stare down at the body on my floor.
I’ve killed before.
Three times, in fact. Once, when I was sixteen and cornered by a member of a rival family who recognized me despite my attempts at disguise.
Once, when I was nineteen, to eliminate a witness who could have placed Alexei at the scene of a hit.
Once, when I was twenty-two, a mercy killing for a man who’d served the family faithfully until he’d been shot and couldn’t be moved to safety.
But those deaths had a purpose. They were planned, calculated, and necessary for the family’s protection or my own survival.
This…
This was unplanned chaos.
The wine chiller slips from my fingers and hits the tile with a dull thud, more blood spattering my boots. My hands shake, covered in the Alpha’s blood, and no matter how hard I try, the trembling won’t stop.
Footsteps sound at the apartment door, which still stands open.
I don’t turn around. I can’t rip myself away from the body on my floor, the blood, the vacant stare fixed on the ceiling.
“Trouble?” Orien calls out from the entrance, before he takes in the destruction. “Fucking hell. Trouble, answer me!”
Footsteps rush across the living room, but pause at the tiled divider that sections off the kitchen in the studio apartment.
It takes effort, but I lift my head and meet Orien’s gaze across the ruined apartment. His eyes meet mine without horror or disgust.