Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Cold air stung his face and hands as Roman lowered himself onto a fallen log just behind the motel, the darkness encroaching on his senses as he took a slow, deep breath to settle himself.
His alpha was in turmoil inside of him, raging against his ribcage, clawing at his heart, doing everything possible to escape his useless flesh and get back to their omega who needed comfort so desperately.
Seeing Sidian fall apart at the seams like that had shaken Roman in ways he never had been before, and he wasn’t even entirely sure he could keep his promise to make things right.
The Mambas were the branch of Ouroboros whose information was most vital to their operations; even the Cobras could rely on the Internet and tabloids for juicy details about their political rivals. If the Mambas suspected Pack Kincaid were traffickers, they would know where they lived.
How could they have gotten it so wrong? Roman had to tell them. If that information was flawed, just how much of the rest of their data was wrong in some way?
He knew Hadeon’s phone number only from memory and dialed it with shaky fingers, raising the device to his ear and listening to the comforting dial tone.
Together, they could get to the bottom of this.
Hadeon was smart, and there had to be more data within the Pit that he had access to.
Something perhaps had been misfiled. Maybe that house was a former auction site, and the addresses were mixed up.
A cool breeze stung Roman’s eyes, and he blinked away a few droplets of water as something cold and metallic pressed against the back of his skull. “Hang up the phone, Roman Kane.”
Roman stared directly into the trees as he allowed the phone to drift away from his ear, picking up the tinny sound of Hadeon’s voice before he snapped the flip phone shut.
Someone yanked the device out of his hand a moment later and, more on reflex than anything else, he lifted his hands like he had for Sidian.
It hadn’t worked then, and he supposed it wouldn’t work now.
You’re upwind, he told himself, letting his eyes flutter shut for just a moment. But how the fuck could the police have snuck up on you like this?
The gun prodded the back of his head as someone sighed behind him. “Put your hands behind your back. If you make any sudden movements to escape, I’m going to shoot you.”
He did as he was told, unsure what to say. Did the police know that Sidian was inside? Would any of this be held against him? It shouldn’t be; Sidian had nothing to do with any of it and was as innocent as possible. “My mate had nothing to do with any of this.”
Someone barked a sharp, unsettling laugh behind him as someone looped what felt like several zip ties around his wrists, tightening them painfully. “Oh, is that so?” It was a new voice, slimy compared to the original gruff one. Pigs. Go fucking figure—
Something cut off his vision for a breath of a second before something cool pressed up against the front of his throat.
Before Roman could react, a soft click filled the air, the sound alerting him that something was wrong.
The police used zip ties on occasion instead of handcuffs, even though neither was particularly effective against someone of Roman’s size, but he'd never known them to use collars of any kind. His hands flexed against the ties, reflex all but demanding he examine what they’d put on him.
The bolt of electricity shot through his system, white-hot pain that took his breath away.
Hyena-like laughter echoed through the air as Roman convulsed, his mouth open but no sound coming out as his limbs jerked and spasmed against the agony.
Even when it cut, his muscles twitched, his body coiling in on itself in an attempt to get away from whatever that was.
The skin beneath the metal of the collar burned as he panted harshly, sensitive where Sidian had given him a friction burn yanking on his shirt.
That was fine, that was fine, he wasn’t angry with Sidian at all.
“Tell the alpha that he was wrong,” someone said, voice flat as someone rammed a steel-toed boot directly into Roman’s ribs. “This one is going quietly after all. What a surprise!”
It hurt to move, but Roman forced his head back, squinting through the shadows so he got a clear look at his attackers. Something was wrong with his vision, fuzzy around the corners, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to know who had come for him. What had come for him.
What he saw sent a wave of nausea rolling over him, the panicky grip of fear wrapping long fingers around his throat and squeezing. No, please no, anyone but them. No no no.
The alpha closest to him knelt down, one hand sliding through Roman’s curls before gripping them firmly, giving his head a shake. The eyes—one milky white, one icy blue—stared directly into his soul. Knox Kincaid. “Looks like he’s still conscious. Now that’s a surprise.”
A bigger alpha crouched down next to him, a long twisting scar along his neck marking him as Nash Kincaid. “That shit is genuinely impressive. Maybe the alpha will want to keep him around.”
“Too big and bulky for my taste, but he’s got a pretty face on him.
” The alpha wearing the steel-toed boots did not lower himself to the ground, but then, Axel Kincaid had a bad knee, didn’t he?
So, getting on the ground might not have been the best of ideas for him.
“Maybe we can have some fun with him. Not like you can spoil a male alpha the way you can a male omega.”
Knox clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his grip in Roman’s hair tightening. “Maybe so. What are the risks if we give him another injection? He looks like he’s out of it, but I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks during transport. We’ve got an hour’s drive.”
An hour? Where the fuck are they taking me? But Roman knew, didn’t he? The Victorian was only half an hour away, and it wasn’t their actual house. So the address was wrong after all.
A snarling shriek split the air before breaking on a whimper, and Roman strained against the zip ties. Sidian.
“Fuck it.” Axel kicked Roman in the gut this time, knocking the air out of him, his body crumpling inward from the impact. A sharp sting on his shoulder made him hiss. How hadn’t he felt it before? When did they even do it? “So what if he’s a little loopy? His buyer might appreciate that.”
“No permanent damage, gentlemen,” Nash said with a tsking noise as he rose to his feet and Roman’s vision grew hazier, shades of gray slowly layering themselves over his eyes. “Enjoy your nap, Kane.”
He couldn’t. He couldn’t fall asleep; he couldn’t let this happen. He had to get up, but no part of his body would respond, no muscle would answer him, his arms couldn’t strain enough and—
Everything faded away, and Roman’s eyes slipped shut.
The first scent Roman noticed was the buttery scent of leather. The muzzle?
His eyes fluttered open, his head pounding as he peered through the darkness that seemed to surround him on all sides.
Wherever he was, it was warm, though the stiffness beneath him made his joints ache and throb.
He tried to wet his lips, but his mouth was dry, and though he willed his head to move in any direction so he could get a sense of where he was or what was going on, it didn’t listen to him.
All he could do was stare at a hazy shape that formed itself into a person.
And what struck him in that moment, what had never occurred to him before, was how familiar the alpha looked. How the lines of Dax Kincaid’s face, for one blurry moment, looked like someone else’s.
The alpha who purchased Sidian that fateful afternoon was tall, handsome, with short white hair just long enough to slick back out of his face.
He was sharper and more angular than Dax, and his eyes were a different color, but there were similarities if one knew where to look.
The shape of the nose, the almost smirking curve of the mouth, the fine-boned hands.
Dax held a tablet, stylus pressed against his lower lip, his eyes narrowed as he studied the screen before him.
When his eyes flicked toward Roman, it seemed to happen in slow motion. Dax’s lips curved into a proper smirk, and he lowered the tablet so the screen highlighted him from below. Creepy fucker.
“I gave them strict instructions to inject you only once,” he mused, his voice low, his tone smooth yet somehow wrong, like velvet stretched over a molding frame. “Looks like they didn’t break you after all.”
Roman opened his mouth to say something, anything—an insult if he could think of one—but the nausea that rolled through his gut had him flinching instead, his teeth clamping shut against it.
Dax waved his stylus as if in warning. “If you throw up, you’ll lie in it until we get home.”
It took a moment for Roman to gather control of himself, but he managed it.
He glanced up through his lashes, taking measure of the man who sat across from him, from the rotting driftwood scent that seemed to roll off of him like a toxic cloud.
If his scent was this nasty, something was wrong with him.
But unless it was fatal, it would not help him or Sidian to know that.
Dax studied him for a long moment, then set the tablet aside and shifted onto his knees. “You know, now that I have you, I think I want a closer look. The boys said you were pretty.”
Roman tried to lean back, but Dax was on him before he could, shoving his back against the floor of what Roman realized was a van at the same moment he realized his arms were still tied behind his back.
The plastic of the zip ties refused to give, but the moment he tried to tug at them regardless, something plastic thumped into his forehead.
A remote, he realized, that he watched Dax drop into the front pocket of his neat button-down like it was nothing, that he carried it on his person.
He forced himself to lie still as Dax got comfortable on top of him, straddling Roman’s waist. Long fingers looped through the metal bars of the muzzle, holding Roman’s head in place as Dax leaned over him, staring down at him like he was nothing more than a butterfly beneath a pin, moments away from being snapped into a frame.
His hands ached and his shoulders protested, but his head swam every single time Dax jerked it from side to side, leaving him nauseous and dizzy.
Dax laughed, the sound unsettling, needles pricking Roman’s skin. “My, my, you are pretty.”
The hand dropped from the muzzle to curl around the front of Roman’s throat, and he remembered how Sidian’s hand felt there—sweaty and trembling with excitement yet careful.
It was nothing compared to the firm grip of Dax’s fingers digging in too tight, cutting off Roman’s air supply as another hand slid under the front of his shirt, fingers dragging over his bare skin.
Being touched like that was revolting, but when he squirmed, Dax tightened his grip.
“Your attitude and your insolence leave a lot to be desired, but we can always break you of that should we need to do so.” Dax leaned closer to him, over him, his lips brushing against Roman’s ear and making him shudder in disgust. “My men were right, though. You have potential. If you survive what we have planned for you, I’ll break you at my feet just like I will that stupid little omega bitch. ”
Instinct told Roman to do something, say something, but he clamped his jaw and refused to rise to the challenge. Sidian was somewhere, likely not in the vehicle with him based on the lack of his sweet lily scent, but Pack Kincaid would have him. Roman had to get to him.
He would not cost himself that opportunity by letting Dax Kincaid hiss in his ear and piss him off. He’d hold out for the perfect chance to strike when he knew it wouldn’t be a wasted chance.
Dax slid away, scooping his tablet back up. “This is going to be such a fun night.”