Chapter Thirty-three
Jasmine
The pressure hit my ribs without warning, something hard and unforgiving that made my breath catch mid-inhale.
My champagne glass tilted dangerously in my hand, crystal nearly slipping through fingers that had gone numb with shock.
Then the scent hit me—diesel, sharp, and chemical, cutting through the ballroom's expensive perfumes like a knife through silk.
My entire body went rigid, every muscle locking down in recognition before my conscious mind could process what was happening.
“Move now.” The voice came low and close to my ear, familiar in the worst possible way. A voice that had haunted my nightmares for months, that had ordered punishments and laughed at my pain. A voice I'd hoped never to hear again.
Bane.
The champagne glass fell from my hand, hitting the floor with a crack that should have drawn attention but somehow didn't in the noise of the party.
Crystal shattered across the expensive tile, champagne spreading in a pale pool that reflected the chandelier light above.
My apple pie scent spiked with fear so sharp it made my nose burn, but the diesel overwhelmed it, claiming dominance the way Alphas did when they wanted to establish power.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to confirm what my body already knew.
Brown eyes met mine, cold and calculating, holding none of the warmth I'd seen in my Alphas' gazes.
His face was exactly as I remembered—sharp cheekbones, firm jaw, features that would be handsome if they weren't twisted with malice.
He'd dressed in a suit, expensive enough to blend in with the gala crowd, but nothing could disguise the predatory energy that rolled off him.
The gun pressed deeper into my ribs, and I felt the exact shape through the thin silk of my gown.
Round barrel. Solid metal. Positioned perfectly to tear through vital organs if he pulled the trigger.
My knees wanted to buckle, but his hand clamped around my upper arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, keeping me upright.
“I said, move.” His grip tightened, and pain shot through my arm where his fingers pressed into muscle and bone. “Unless you want me to paint this pretty ballroom with your insides.”
My feet obeyed before my mind could fully process the command. One step, then another, my body falling back into patterns it had learned during months of abuse. Obey, or suffer worse. Move when told. Don't fight back unless you want broken bones.
But my eyes—my eyes were searching, desperate, frantic.
Kade. Where had Kade gone? I spotted him, his tall frame still surrounded by the couple that had drawn him into conversation.
His back was partially turned, his attention focused on something the man beside him was saying.
The distance between us felt impossible, a chasm that grew wider with each step Bane forced me to take.
Look at me, I begged silently, willing him to feel my distress the way Alphas were supposed to sense their Omega's fear. Please, Kade, just look.
But he didn't turn. Didn't feel the wrongness that was happening across the room. Just kept talking, kept gesturing, kept existing in a world where I was still safe.
Bane navigated through the crowd with practiced ease, his movements smooth enough that anyone glancing over would see nothing suspicious.
Just a couple leaving early, maybe. A man guiding a woman who'd had too much champagne.
His body angled to hide the gun, using my frame as a shield, and I realized with sick certainty that he'd planned this.
Had watched. Had waited for the right moment when my Alphas were distracted.
Theo.
I spotted him near the buffet table, still surrounded by his group.
He was laughing at something, his head thrown back, his scarred face animated with joy.
The same joy I'd felt moments ago, the same happiness that had made my cheeks ache from smiling.
He looked so alive, so present, so completely unaware that I was being dragged away.
Please see me. Please, Theo.
But he didn't. His dark eyes swept across the room without pausing on where Bane was pulling me through the crowd. Without recognizing that something was catastrophically wrong.
“One sound and you're dead before they reach you,” Bane hissed against my ear, his breath hot and wrong against my skin.
“This gun will tear through your liver, your intestines, your spine.
You'll die screaming on this pretty floor while your precious Alphas watch helplessly. Is that what you want?”
The image he painted flooded my mind with visceral clarity. Blood spreading across the expensive tile. My body convulsing. My Alphas' faces twisted with horror as they watched me die. I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste copper, forcing back the scream that wanted to tear from my throat.
“That's what I thought,” Bane continued, satisfaction oozing through his words. “You always were good at following orders when properly motivated.”
My legs kept moving automatically, carrying me toward whatever fate he had planned. The ballroom was retreating, the golden warmth and celebration becoming something distant and unreachable. My vision tunneled, focusing on my desperate searches for salvation that wasn't coming.
Lucian. Where was Lucian?
I found him near the grand piano, exactly where I'd seen him before. He'd attracted an even larger group now, people clustering around to hear whatever story he was telling.
They were all getting smaller now, my three Alphas becoming distant figures in a ballroom that suddenly felt enormous.
Kade gesturing to make a point. Theo throwing his head back in another laugh.
Lucian's hands dancing through the air as he told his story.
All of them were completely unaware that I was disappearing.
The gun dug deeper into my ribs, and I gasped at the pressure.
Bane's grip on my arm had hardened, his fingers finding nerves that sent pain shooting up to my shoulder and down to my fingertips.
He was steering me now, not just guiding but controlling completely, and my body had gone limp with learned helplessness.
“Your Alphas aren't paying attention,” Bane observed, and I heard the smile in his voice. “Too busy enjoying their success. Too distracted by their own importance to notice their Omega being taken. What does that tell you about how much they really care?”
The words were designed to hurt, and they did.
They burrowed into the vulnerable places in my heart where fear and insecurity lived, the places that still whispered I didn't deserve good things.
But beneath the pain, something else stirred.
Anger, maybe. Or the memory of how they'd looked at me in my dressing room, the pride and care in their eyes.
They cared. They did. They just didn't know I needed them yet.
The crowd thinned as Bane pulled me toward the ballroom's edge.
We passed a server, who glanced at us with mild curiosity before moving on.
Passed a couple slow dancing who didn't even look up.
Passed a group discussing business near one of the walls, their voices carried fragments about quarterly earnings and market shares.
No one saw. No one noticed. I was disappearing in plain sight.
The service door came into view, tucked into an alcove I hadn't noticed during the party.
It was painted the same cream color as the walls, designed to blend in, marked only by a small sign that read "Staff Only.
" The hallway leading beyond was darker, less populated, meant for workers moving behind the scenes rather than guests enjoying the celebration.
My heels caught on the tile as I tried instinctively to slow down, to stop this forward momentum that was carrying me toward that door and whatever lay beyond it.
But Bane yanked me forward with a brutal strength that reminded me exactly how much larger he was, and how futile resistance had always been.
The roses I'd been clutching fell from my other hand, scattering across the floor in a spray of white petals and green stems. I watched them hit the ground, watched petals crush under our feet as Bane dragged me over them, watched the beautiful gift become ruined in seconds.
Just like everything else he touched.
The door loomed ahead, metal and unforgiving. Through the narrow window set in it, I could see darkness. Beyond, there seemed to be an alley or loading area, somewhere away from the light and warmth and safety of the ballroom. Somewhere my Alphas wouldn't think to look until it was too late.
I tried one more time, craning my neck to look back at the celebration. The chandeliers cast their golden glow. Music played softly. People laughed and talked and danced, completely unaware of the horror unfolding at the room's edge.
And there, across the impossible distance, I saw Kade turn slightly. Seeing his eyes scanning the room, like maybe some instinct was finally kicking in, finally telling him something was wrong.
But Bane was already pushing through the service door, and the last thing I saw before the ballroom disappeared was Kade's face, still searching, not yet seeing what he'd lost.