3. Roseland
Roseland
This is a disaster. Of all the people who could be here, these are the worst possible. Pix steps closer to her, and I growl. I swear, I see a flash of pain in his eyes, but it’s not possible. He’s a killer.
Fucking serial killers.
I know about what Sage’s father made him. A trained pet, a killer they couldn’t control. He survived more than sixty assassination attempts and plans to cage him. Now his father just pretends he doesn’t exist.
My mother had laughed when she told me. Cried with laughter like it was the funniest thing. Her sons, the killer and the cop. Both the biggest disappointments.
God, I hate her.
But after tracking Pack Prince and tailing Pix one night, I saw him.
The omega kills without thought, without question.
He was violent and deadly, and he stole a life as easily as I take my next breath.
He’s a killer through and through. Remorseless, cold, violent.
Everything I stand against. Stood against?
I’m the cop who is supposed to nail him and put him away. I don’t care if he’s my scent match, there is right and wrong. Black and white.
Except that’s not how the world is, and when I had the chance to destroy Sage, I couldn’t do it.
And Pix…well, I wasn’t taking him to a jail cell either.
That note left in my rented room, that was locked with me asleep in it, said they were coming for us.
I wasn’t going to leave him behind. I didn’t even think; I just snatched him up and left.
What the fuck am I even doing?
“She ran out onto the road, and the car clipped her.” Pix glares at me as if waiting for me to deny it. How can I?
I did this to her.
I reach out and take her tiny hand, holding it gently in my own. God, I am so sorry, I just fuck everything up.
“Where were you going?” Blaze asks calmly as he runs his hands over her body. I want to shove them off, shout at him not to touch her, but I keep the sounds buried deep where they won’t escape.
“None of your business,” I growl, refusing to look at Pix.
“He was taking me to be arrested in another state because he’s running out of reasons to avoid the fact that he’s my scent match.”
Pix really went there. I glare at him.
“We are not scent matches,” I growl out. Because you don’t have two, and the only one I have is lying here unconscious on the table, and I’m the reason she’s like this to start with.
Pix shrugs. “Plenty of fish in the sea, Rosey. You are replaceable.”
I grind my teeth. “Don’t call me that.”
The omega with his black hair and deep brown eyes watches me with mocking insight, almost like he’s daring me to continue denying him. But I will, may the alpha help me, but I will deny this omega. Even if his scent drives me crazy, and I can still taste him on my death bed.
One careless night a year ago ruined me. One taste of the pleasure this demon could bring, and I knew I’d never be the same. He is a temptation I can’t afford, one I regret. Because now I’ve had him, I will want him until my last breath, and we both know it.
“Is she going to live? Because I really need her to live,” Rolly says from where he suddenly appeared beside Pix. He pulls out a knife and spins it with terrifying grace.
Sage watches me with an amused smile on his stupid face. “I can see that you are bringing drama wherever you go, Aaron.”
I snap my head up and glower at him. “No drama.”
Sage lifts his eyebrows. “Scent match?”
“Not. Mine.”
Pix stands up straight. “Oh, I’m going to make your life absolute hell, Rosey, just you watch.”
You already do. There are only three things I ever wanted for myself. Her, him, and Sage.
I can’t have any of them. The kitchen is small but neat. Everything sits behind cupboards, but the light is bright, and there’s a lot of space on the benches. Even for a tiny omega.
“We’re a bit busy at the moment, and we don’t have time for your attention seeking-”
One minute, I’m running my mouth, saying whatever it will take to get him away from me, the next he’s beside me, a knife pressed to my throat.
He’s so close I can see the different shades of brown in his eyes; I can see the way the ink curls into his skin on his face, how his hair curls over his cheek.
He’s so fucking painfully beautiful. It’s all I can do to stay where I am and not lean forward and kiss him. I want to. So, so badly.
“I can remove the question of scent match,” Pix whispers, and I realise no one else can see the knife.
“I can make it so no one has to think of you. Rosey, I can make you a moment in the past, thought of only every now and then when someone remembers that you existed. They will say ‘whatever happened to Roseland’, and no one will know because no one will ever find you.” Pix’s voice gets cold and hard and unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. “You will just be gone.”
My whole body gets hard everywhere. I focus on his lips, the strangely beautiful face that has been haunting my dreams.
I hate myself. With everything in me. But I say the only thing I know that will hurt this omega and get him away from me.
“I regret ever meeting you.”
Pix smiles, and it hits me hard in the chest. “Oh, I know, but I’m going to win, Roseland. I’m going to make you mine. You’re going to beg, to scream, to cry my name. You’ll crawl on your knees and give me everything, and when I’m satisfied you’ve paid your debt, you’ll wear my bond.”
My breath explodes out of my lungs. “You wish.”
“I don’t have to wish; I’m going to make it so.” He removes the knife but doesn’t step back.
He’s terrifying.
“Are you two done?” Blaze asks calmly. “The omega is hurt, and if you are going to continue making the room unlivable, you can get out until I’ve checked her over.”
“You aren’t going to be alone with her, ever!” I snap instantly.
The room bristles with alpha anger. The challenge I’ve laid down is heavy in the air. It’s almost a declaration of war for one alpha to tell the rest of the scent matches that they can’t be trusted around their omega.
Pix vanishes his knife and turns back, letting go of all the aggression as easily as if he just dropped a towel.
“Relax, Rosey just needs a good orgasm to get rid of all that rules and protocol funk he’s been pouring out of his mouth.”
Rolly shifts closer to Pix, the latter of whom smiles innocently at the deranged alpha. I can see he’s up to his old tricks, trying to appear as innocent as ever. Again, Pix's scent seems to not affect these particular alphas. I can see his frustration, but he’s masking it well.
I ignore them and turn back to find King gently brushing Merle’s hair back. I have to bite my tongue to stop from growling at him.
“Right, she looks okay. I can’t find any wounds or broken bones. She’s likely just exhausted,” Blaze says, stepping back.
He looks at Sage, and the two share something: a look, a commune, something that has me writhing with jealousy. I blank my expression and look away, refusing to admit to the feelings I’ve been refusing to have.
My stepbrother is watching me when I look back up, and our gaze collides, full of things I don’t want to deal with.
“Take her to the blue room,” Blaze says.
King lifts her up and walks away. I take a step to follow, but Rolly appears in front of me.
“Aaron Roseland. As in…Detective?”
I drop my gaze to the criminal and sneer at him. “Yes.”
“You are far too lickable to be a cop.”
I scowl harder. “Move.”
Rolly grins; it’s slow and diabolical. “Make me.”
I growl low in my throat. “I don’t have time for the games you or Pix want to play.”
“Sure, you do. You’re not leaving,” Sage says cheerfully.
I whip around and glare at him. “You can’t keep me prisoner.”
“Actually, I kinda can. Rolly.”
A needle is jabbed into my neck. I gasp as my body floods with heat, then cold, and I suddenly feel weak. The world tunnels, and then I’m in Rolly’s arms. He’s carrying me bridal-style. He’s stronger than he looks. Damn, I was looking at the wrong danger.
“Don’t worry, Detective. I’m going to take good care of you.”
I wake up reaching for my gun, which is not there. In fact, most of my clothes are gone. I’m in a white cotton T-shirt and my underwear. The world is swimming, but there’s a shape sitting on my bed beside me.
“What happened?”
I lay back, too tired to sit up.
It’s Sage sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over me.
I’m in a massive room with black walls and a dim orange light that illuminates the harsh planes of his face.
On the wall, there is a single black-and-white picture of a topless man standing with his back to the camera, staring out at a mountain.
His long black hair is caught up by a slight breeze.
There’s a bedside table beside me with a single glass of water that is three-quarters full; I can see a faint lip print in the glare of the light.
All these things I notice straight away, but I note the things I can’t see, too.
Time, electronics, there is no one else in the room, and I have no idea how much time has passed.
When I lift my head, I take a quick, unhappy assessment that leaves me with the knowledge that there is one door and no windows.
There’s no way Sage will leave that door unlocked.
I’m going to have to wait until I can take them. I go through our meeting again. Pix, Sage, King, Rolly, and…Blaze.
Dangerous. Deadly. Fucked up. Psychotic and probably the most terrifying alpha I’ve ever met.
And Merle.
Just the thought of her makes my pulse jump.
I swallow my nerves, looking instead into the slightly smiling face of my stepbrother.
It galls that I’ve had to call him for help.
I’m not even acknowledging the fact that he’s drugged me.
I’ll deal with that when I have the ability to beat the shit out of him. Right now, I feel weak as a kitten.
Sage brushes his fingers over my forehead. I turn my head sharply, trying to dislodge his fingers, but he’s relentless, and my rebellion, weak though it is, only serves to entertain him.
“Something’s wrong, Aaron. I can always tell.
You’re riding the edge of something,” his soft words reach deep, reminding me that there is one person in the world who always sees through my shit, even if I don’t want him to.
For one desperate summer, he was my entire world.
We were friends and then lovers, just once. And then it ended.
I huff and stare at the ceiling and the faint swirling patterns that have painted into the design, trying to ignore him. I clench my jaw and regret it when it sends a wave of nausea through me.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Mmm, you never do, but I think you need to, and you can blame the drugs,” Sage says and lies down on his side with one hand on my chest.
The pressure, the things I saw, that whole night comes back, and I stare, feeling my body go still and tense.
That night was a mess, and it still haunts me.
I thought Sage and my public humiliation and subsequent end of relationship at our parents wedding was the worst night, but then a week later, I experienced a real bad night.
One that changed the whole path of my life.
Waking or sleeping, I remember Merle calling my name, screaming for help. The day I failed her.
The silence lengthens, and sourness taints my rose and sandalwood scent.
“Don’t let them find us, Sage,” I whisper. “You can’t trust anyone. Not the police, not civilians. No one. He will be hunting for her, and he’s looking for me.”
Sage sits up, staring at me, and for the first time, I hope my mother didn’t exaggerate when she told me what Sage was capable of. We might need him. I might need him.
“You have to keep her hidden. No matter what.”
He leans over, dragging his nose down my cheek, his thumb drawing a circle. The smell of him, the delicious feel of him, makes me soft.
“I’m not going to let anyone get to you or our omegas.”
Our.
I stare past him, refusing to lean into the caress, and refusing to rise to his deliberate baiting.
“You don’t say stuff like that to me,” I hiss. “We protect her. There is nothing between us, and that Daega is not mine.”
Sage bites his bottom lip and just stares at me. It’s enraging. It’s a look that says he clearly doesn’t believe me but that he’s humouring me because he thinks I’m adorable.
It. Is. Enraging.
I try to roll, but he puts a hand on my chest and pins me to the bed with barely any pressure.
“Hands off, Sage!”
He leans in close, and I hope he’s going to kiss me. No, I dread it.
Instead, he drags the blanket up my chest and pulls out another needle, casually pressing it into my skin and depressing the syringe.
“No, Sage, please stop.”
“You need to sleep. This is for your own good, Aaron.”
“No,” I slur the word.
But it’s too late; I’m already falling back into the soft darkness that I’ve been running from for too long.
“Asshole.”
His laughter chases me into sleep.