Unhinged Omega: A Dark Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance (Ghost Alpha Unit Book 4)

The rumble of the engine and the crunch of gravel under the tires are the only sounds that fill the tense silence as we speed away from the chaos. My wrists ache where they’re bound behind my back, the duct tape digging into my skin with every bump and jostle of the armored vehicle. But the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the storm raging in my head.

Cosima.

My mate.

She’s out there somewhere, alone and vulnerable in a wasteland that would tear her apart without a second thought. The image of her moonlight-silver hair disappearing into the treeline haunts me, playing on repeat behind my eyes.

I should be out there, tracking her down, keeping her safe. Instead, I’m trussed up like a turkey in the passenger seat of Geo’s stolen ride, helpless and useless.

I want to fucking scream. But I know it would be pointless. Geo’s always been stubborn as an irradiated mule, and right now, he thinks he’s doing what’s best for me. Protecting me from myself.

That’s the only reason I’m only plotting to escape and not plotting to put a bullet in that double-plated skull of his.

But even as fear and worry gnaw at me, there’s something else. A certainty, bone-deep and unshakable, that she’s okay.

That she’s alive.

I can’t explain it, can’t put it into words that wouldn’t sound utterly insane. But I know, with every fiber of my being, that if something had happened to her—if she was hurt, or gods forbid, worse—I would feel it.

It doesn’t make me want to find her any less, though.

I close my eyes, trying to focus on that connection, that inexplicable bond.

She’s clever, my moonlight goddess. If she’s survived this long in the cesspool that is the Outer Reaches, she’s got more than just a pretty face.

Run, I think, willing her to hear me somehow. Run and don’t look back. I’ll find you. I swear I’ll find you.

The vehicle slows, and I open my eyes to see we’ve arrived at the market. Or rather, the unremarkable patch of wasteland that hides Geo’s underground empire. To the untrained eye, it’s just more dead earth and scrub brush. But I know better. Beneath our feet lies a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers, a haven for every kind of criminal and degenerate the Outer Reaches has to offer.

Home sweet fucking home.

Geo kills the engine and climbs out, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a moment. I hear him barking orders, his gruff voice carrying easily through the armored walls of the vehicle.

‘You two! Yeah, you. Stop pretending you’re not on duty and help me unload the piece of shit in the trunk. Take him down to the basement and make sure he’s secured.’

My heart rate picks up.

Nikolai must have survived the trip.

Geo is right about one thing. That shouldn’t be a relief. I came to his hideout planning on putting a bullet in the bastard myself, so why the fuck did I put myself in the line of fire to make sure Geo couldn’t?

I don’t have all that long to contemplate it before Geo rips open the passenger side door.

‘He needs a doctor,’ I mutter, not meeting Geo’s eye.

Geo’s expression hardens. ‘You’re not calling the shots anymore, kid,’ he growls, reaching in to grab me.

I try to squirm away, but with my arms bound, there’s not much I can do. When he tears the tape off that secures me to the seat, I lunge to bite him and end up facedown in the dirt. Geo grabs me by the back of my shirt and hauls me to my feet.

I spit in his face.

He stares at me in dangerous silence for what feels like a small eternity before wiping my spit off his cheek with the back of his hand and a low growl.

‘I know you didn’t just fucking spit in my face.’

‘I’ll do it again,’ I warn him.

He shoves me up against the side of the vehicle, sticking his finger in my face. ‘You fucking listen to me, and you listen good. You’re the one who involved me in all this bullshit, so I don’t want to hear a goddamn word about how I’m not doing things according to your half-baked plan. I just saved your ass, and nothing and no one made me do it. I came to your rescue—again—because I do give a shit. Don’t make me regret it.’

I give a bitter laugh. ‘I didn’t ask you to care.’

‘Is that what you’re doing, then?’ he asks, his gaze hardening. ‘Trying to piss me off until I stop caring about you? Because that might work on everyone else, but it won’t work on me. Trust me, you’ve already pushed every button you could possibly push, and I’m still here.’

For once, I have no fucking idea what to say.

But I don’t have long to dwell on it before he grabs me again and slings me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The sudden shift in position makes my head spin, and I can’t help the undignified yelp that escapes me.

‘Put me down, you fucking Neanderthal!’ I snarl, thrashing uselessly. ‘I’m not a child!’

‘Could’ve fooled me, the way you’re acting lately,’ Geo mutters, already striding toward the hidden entrance to his underground lair.

As we descend into the dimly lit tunnels, a hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. How many times have I imagined Geo manhandling me like this? Carrying me off to his private chambers for a night of debauchery? But this is about as far from those fantasies as it gets.

Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

Geo throws a glance over his shoulder, and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s looking at me like he can read my damn mind. Like I’ve lost it.

Maybe I have.

It’s only when we pass the turn that would lead to Geo’s living quarters that I start to get nervous. ‘Where are we going?’ I demand, craning my neck to try to see where he’s taking me.

Geo doesn’t answer, but the pit in my stomach grows as I realize we’re heading deeper into the complex. Toward the area I know he keeps for ‘special guests.’

Oh, fuck no.

‘Geo,’ I say, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘Geo, come on. This isn’t funny. What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘Giving myself a break from your constant whining and pestering,’ he grunts, shifting my weight on his shoulder. His big, burly hand is closer to my ass than he probably realizes, and I’m too fucking pissed to even enjoy it. ‘You need some time to cool off and get your head straight.’

We round a corner, and my blood runs cold as I see the heavy metal door at the end of the hall. Geo’s infamous ‘guest room.’

AKA his personal dungeon.

The sight of the door stirs a renewed panic within me. If he puts me in there, there’s no escape. ‘You’ve made your point,’ I hiss. ‘Let me go!’

But my pleas fall on deaf ears. Geo shoulders open the door and hauls me down the stairs into the dark concrete room that’s part fallout shelter and part prison for anyone who gets too unruly upstairs. He unceremoniously dumps me onto a cot pushed up against one wall. I land with a grunt, the wind knocked out of me for a moment. As I struggle to catch my breath, my eyes dart around the room, taking in the details.

The bare concrete walls. The single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The ominous metal rings set into the walls at regular intervals. And there, slumped against the far wall…

Nikolai.

He’s still unconscious, his white hair matted with blood and dirt. A thick iron collar encircles his neck, chained to the wall behind him. The sight makes my stomach churn, memories I’ve tried so hard to bury clawing their way to the surface.

I’m so distracted by Nikolai that I almost miss Geo reaching for something on the wall beside me. The rattle of chains snaps me back to reality, and I look up to see him holding another collar.

My eyes go wide. ‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ I snap, trying to scoot away despite my bound arms. ‘Geo, I swear to all the gods, if you try to put that thing on me⁠—’

‘You’ll what?’ Geo cuts me off, his voice hard. ‘Give me dirty looks? Make more empty threats?’ He reaches for me, and I try to duck away, but there’s only so far I can go. His fingers tangle in my hair, yanking my head back as I snarl in indignation more than pain.

Infuriatingly enough, I can tell he’s trying to be gentle. Like collaring a feral kitten he doesn’t want to get bitten by.

‘Stop!’ I cry, my voice cracking in spite of my rage. ‘Geo, please. You don’t have to do this. I promise I’ll behave. I’ll stay put. Just… not like this. Please.’

For a moment, I think I see a flicker of hesitation in Geo’s eye. Of that softness that’s always been there, no matter how many layers of concrete wrapped in barbed wire he tries to hide it behind.

But then his expression hardens, and I know I’ve lost. The collar snaps shut around my neck with a final-sounding click, and just like that, I’m chained to the wall like a damn dog.

Geo steps back, studying me with an unreadable expression. ‘You’ve lost your damn mind,’ he says, his voice low and rough, but there’s a hint of sadness to it that really tells me I’m fucked. Sadness and resignation. ‘And clearly, you’re not thinking with an ounce of self-preservation. So you can have a little time out down here until it comes back to you.’ His lips twist in a bitter smile. ‘And as a bonus, you can spend some quality time remembering why you fucking hate that asshole.’ He jerks his head toward Nikolai’s unconscious form.

‘Geo,’ I try one last time, hating how small my voice sounds. ‘Please don’t leave me down here.’

He pauses at the door, and for a heartbeat, I think he might change his mind. But then he just sighs, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair. ‘I tried,’ he says quietly. ‘I really did. But today… today was proof it didn’t work. I’m sorry.’

I freeze, because I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard Geo say those words. It takes me a while to work out what he even means by them, but then it hits me.

Nikolai’s command.

Geo’s training.

He blames himself.

I’m so furious at him, it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I clench my jaw, gritting the next words out like my throat is made of sandpaper. ‘It’s not… it wasn’t you. It’s me. I’m the one who’s fucked up. It wasn’t your job to fix me.’

‘I said I would all the same.’ There’s a bite in his voice again, but somehow, I can tell it’s not directed at me. ‘And I failed you. But that’s not gonna happen again. I don’t give my word often, but when I do, I follow it through. We’ll just have to figure something else out.’

I feel a surge of panic as I realize what he’s getting at. ‘You can’t do this,’ I hiss. ‘You can’t keep me prisoner in the name of unbrainwashing me, Geo! That’s not what this is about.’

‘I’ll send a doctor down soon,’ he mutters, ignoring me. ‘To patch you both up and take off the tape. Once you’ve settled down a bit.’

And then he’s gone, the heavy door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud.

For a long moment, I just sit there, staring at the closed door in disbelief.

This can’t be happening.

It has to be some kind of fucked up nightmare.

Maybe I hit my head during the chaos at the airfield.

Maybe I’m still unconscious, and any minute now I’ll wake up…

But the cold metal of the collar around my neck is all too real. The ache in my shoulders from having my arms bound for so long. The throb of bruises I don’t remember getting, courtesy of that monster batting the tank around like a cat with a damn ball of string.

This is real.

And I’m fucked.

So is Nikolai if that doctor doesn’t get here sooner than later. I find my gaze darting over to his corner more often than I’d like.

He’s still breathing. For now.

That realization brings me more relief than it has any right to.

Maybe Geo is right about that, too. Maybe I’m still just that brainwashed whelp Nikolai plucked out of the brothel all those years ago.

My head drops back against the wall as the silence wraps around me like a vice, forcing me face to face with the one old nemesis I’ll do anything in my power to avoid.

My memories.

The hazy scent of cigar smoke fills my nostrils as Madame takes another long drag, her ruby red lips pursed around the expensive cigar smuggled in from Reinmich. Her eyes, cold and calculating behind perfectly winged eyeliner, bore into me.

‘Kneel,’ she commands, her voice like velvet over steel.

I drop to my knees without hesitation, the polished hardwood floor unforgiving against my bones. I’m vaguely aware of eyes on me, the quiet murmur of conversation from the gathered crowd watching from the shadows, but my focus is solely on her. Even though she’s not using her bark at the moment, my ears are still ringing from the last command she gave me, ensuring I’d be good for her little demonstration.

As if I need more than the metal collar around my neck as a constant reminder of my place here.

‘Look up,’ Madame orders, and I obey instantly.

She places one stiletto boot on the low table in front of me, the patent leather gleaming under the chandelier’s light. A perfect match for the tattered leather pants I’m wearing, paired with nothing more than the chains dangling from my collar to form a loose mantle over my shoulders. ‘Clean it.’

Without question or pause, I lean forward and start licking her boot. The taste of leather and polish fills my mouth, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Not until she tells me to.

Chuckles ripple through the crowd of wealthy alphas, omegas, and betas gathered to watch Madame show off the training of her favorite ‘pet.’ I hear footsteps approach, and a man’s voice speaks up, tinged with awe and a hint of disgust.

‘Remarkable,’ he says. ‘I’ve never seen a submissive alpha before.’

Madame’s laugh is like broken glass. ‘He’s my finest project,’ she purrs, and I can hear the pride in her voice. It makes my chest ache with a desperate need for her approval. ‘He responds to alpha commands just like an omega would.’

I bristle at the reminder that while she’s my whole world, I’m nothing more than an object to her. A toy to show off. But I don’t stop licking her boot. She hasn’t told me to stop, and I know well what the consequences are for even the most accidental disobedience.

She finally gives a snap of her fingers and I stop, sitting back in a kneeling position with my hands on my thighs and my head downcast, awaiting her next command.

‘I saw his potential in the rough years ago,’ Madame continues, her voice taking on that bragging tone she uses when discussing her ‘projects.’ ‘Now he’s been molded into a diamond. He can’t do anything without my permission. Eating, sleeping… I even tell him when to piss,’ she adds with a chuckle.

More laughter from the crowd. I squeeze my eyes shut, shame burning through me, but I keep my expression neutral, my gaze on the floor.

‘Is he submissive to betas and omegas too?’ a woman’s voice asks, curiosity evident in her tone.

‘Oh yes,’ Madame replies. I can hear the smirk in her voice. ‘But you have to watch out. He gets a bit jealous when he’s not the center of attention.’

More laughter. I want to crawl into the hole in the baseboard across the room and live there like the rats do.

‘Even his ruts are unusual,’ Madame goes on, as casually as if she were discussing the weather. ‘He gets needy, and sometimes he even tries to nest. Like an omega in heat.’

As she speaks, I feel her fingers card through my hair. Despite everything, I lean into her touch, craving any scrap of affection she’ll give me. I hate myself for it. For melting at her touch the way I do. For being so pathetically grateful for even the smallest bit of attention.

‘Fascinating,’ another voice chimes in. Male, alpha. ‘May I give him a command?’

There’s a pause, and I tense, waiting for Madame’s response. ‘Of course,’ she says finally. ‘Be my guest.’

I look up warily as footsteps approach. The alpha who steps into view isn’t particularly large, but there’s a cruel glint in his eyes that makes my stomach churn. I’ve gotten good at reading people over the years. It’s a survival skill in this place.

And everything about this man screams danger.

He grabs my face roughly, fingers digging into my jaw. ‘Look at me,’ he demands.

I meet his gaze, but it’s a struggle. I’ve never been able to hold eye contact with alphas for long. It feels wrong, like I’m challenging them. When I try to look away, the alpha’s voice drops into that resonant tone that bypasses all rational thought.

‘Keep looking at me.‘

The bark hits me like a physical blow. I feel bile rising in my throat as I’m forced to maintain eye contact. The alpha reaches into his pocket, pulling something out, but I can’t look away to see what it is. Soft gasps ripple through the room.

‘Hold out your hand,’ the alpha commands.noveldrama

I do, and feel something heavy and cold pressed into my palm. Metal. My heart starts racing, but I still can’t look away from those cruel eyes.

‘Look down.’

The moment the words leave his lips, my gaze drops to my hand. My breath catches in my throat as I see what I’m holding.

A gun.

I freeze, unable to move, unable to breathe. The weapon feels impossibly heavy in my trembling hand.

The alpha’s voice is taunting when he speaks again. ‘Ever seen one of those before, boy?’

I manage to stutter out a response. ‘N-no.’

He chuckles, the sound sending ice through my veins. ‘Well, you’re going to learn to shoot today. This’ll be fun.’

Panic claws at my chest. I tear my gaze away from the gun, looking desperately to Madame for help. But even though there’s a flicker of unease in her eyes, she just smirks, her red lips curving cruelly.

‘Don’t embarrass me in front of my guests, pet,’ she says coolly.

I swallow hard, my throat tight. I know what happens when I embarrass her. The punishments are… creative. And always, always painful.

‘Point the gun at yourself,’ the alpha orders.

I hesitate, my hand shaking so badly I can barely keep hold of the weapon. The alpha’s eyes narrow, and his voice drops into that commanding tone again.

‘Point it at your lips. Now.‘

My arm moves of its own accord, the barrel of the gun coming to rest against my temple. Tears blur my vision, but I can’t wipe them away. I can’t move at all unless he tells me to.

‘Good boy,’ the alpha croons. ‘Now, lick it.’

A whimper escapes me as I obey, my tongue sliding along the cold metal of the barrel. The taste makes me gag, but I can’t stop.

‘Put your finger on the trigger.’

Tears are streaming down my face now. The instinct to obey wars with the instinct to survive that, until this very moment, I wasn’t sure was still there. The conflict makes my hands tremble so violently, I can barely hold onto the gun, but no matter how much I wish it would, it never quite slips from my hand.

I want to scream, to run, to do anything but obey.

But I can’t.

I can’t.

I look to Madame again, silently begging her to put a stop to this. For a moment, I think I see conflict in her eyes. But then she nods, her voice cold when she speaks.

‘Do as he says.’

My finger slides onto the trigger.

I can smell the excitement coming off the other alpha. This is a show for him. A game. I always knew the men and women who came through these doors saw me as less than human.

But this is new.

‘Put the gun in your mouth,’ the alpha commands, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. ‘And pull the trigger.’

Oh, gods.

I’m going to die.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. I’m going to die here, on my knees, with a gun in my mouth and a room full of strangers watching. I’m going to die without ever having lived a day of my own life.

And the worst part?

The most fucked up, twisted part of it all?

My only wish isn’t for freedom. Freedom is terrifying, more frightening than anything that happens within these walls.

Even this.

No, my only wish, my only regret is that I never got the chance to belong to someone who sees me as worth something.

Anything.

I sob as I raise the gun to my lips. The metal is cold against my tongue, and I can barely breathe around it. But for once, fear overrides the compulsion to obey. My finger rests on the trigger, but I can’t make myself pull it.

I… can’t obey him.

The alpha’s eyes narrow. ‘Pull the trigger,’ he barks.

And just like that, my control shatters.

My finger squeezes.

Click.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then laughter erupts around the room as I collapse in a heap, the gun clattering to the floor beside me. Harsh, mocking laughter that cuts through me like knives.

I curl in on myself, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.

I’m alive.

I’m alive, but am I?

Have I ever really been?

‘Well,’ the alpha’s cold voice cuts through the noise. ‘I must admit, your work is certainly remarkable. But really… who wants a pathetic alpha like that?’

Through my tears, I see Madame’s stilettos approach. Her hand comes to rest on my head, stroking my hair like I’m a dog who’s performed a particularly entertaining trick.

‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ she purrs, and I can hear the smile in her voice. ‘Now, shall we adjourn to the parlor? I believe it’s time for refreshments.’

As the sounds of footsteps and conversation fade, I’m left alone on the floor.

Broken.

Humiliated.

Empty.

I don’t know how long I lay there, trembling and crying. Time loses all meaning. But eventually, Madame’s assistant, Wyatt, comes to collect me. I’m barely even aware of myself as he goes through the motions of scrubbing me down and rendering me presentable for whichever client she’s offering me to this evening. I’d hoped she would give me an evening to recover, but that would require her seeing me as something more than a doll to be used and discarded when it ceases to be convenient.

All I can do is hope, desperately, it’s not the alpha from earlier. Anyone but him.

Whoever it is, he’s warranted himself an evening in the Royal Suite. It’s a joke of a name in a shithole like this, no matter how luxurious the veneer may be, but it’s a rare honor for the patrons who pass through the brothel all the same.

Wyatt, who doubles as my warden, nods to me as we stand outside the blood red doors.

I smooth down the new outfit I’ve been changed into and push open the doors, walking inside. I can’t make out the man seated in an armchair by the bed, since his upper half is concealed in shadow, but I notice the blood red coat that nearly brushes the floor by his well-worn leather boots. A tremor runs through me at the sight of the gun on his hip after my recent encounter.

The man drums his fingertips on the curved wooden arm of the chair, watching me with what feels like bored interest as Wyatt closes the doors behind me. I jolt at the sound in the otherwise silent room.

‘Nervous?’ the man asks, his tone knowing. There’s something in his thick Vrissian accent that makes my skin prickle. A rough edge that speaks of authority and danger. But it’s his scent that makes me freeze where I stand.

I’m more attuned to other alphas’ scents than most alphas are. I’ve never felt the immediate rage and territoriality that seems to affect the others. It varies from alpha to alpha, but in general, I find other alphas’ scents as pleasant as an omega’s. Just different.

This alpha is very different.

I’ve never smelled anything like him.

He smells like…

Blood.

And metal.

It shouldn’t be pleasant, especially in light of the coppery taste lingering on my tongue from earlier, but it’s intriguing in its own right.

And dangerous.

I push that all aside and put on my usual mask of charm and submission, letting a practiced smile curve my lips even as my heart pounds. ‘No, sir.’

‘Come closer,’ he orders, and I comply, moving forward with carefully measured steps. But I stop while still maintaining what I hope is a safe distance from the chair, lowering my head submissively and folding my arms behind my back, waiting for him to command me. It doesn’t usually take long, but some snakes like playing with their food first.

‘What are you doing?’ he asks, a note of curiosity in his voice.

‘Waiting for permission, sir,’ I reply softly, keeping my gaze fixed on the ornate carpet beneath my feet.

‘Permission for what?’ The question holds an edge of amusement now.

I hesitate, resisting the urge to look up at his face. It’s still shrouded in shadow. My throat feels tight as I force out the words I’ve said countless times before: ‘Permission to serve you however you see fit, sir.’

The silence that follows feels heavy. The man shifts in his chair, leather creaking beneath him. I tense, waiting for whatever comes next, but maintain my submissive pose.

‘Is it true what that hag said earlier?’ he finally asks. ‘That you respond to an alpha’s commands like an omega?’

My blood runs cold as I realize he must have been one of the observers watching from the shadows during Madame’s earlier demonstration. Fresh shame burns through me.

‘Or was that little show just a stunt?’ he adds, his tone casual but probing.

I clench my jaw, warring with myself. Anger and embarrassment fight against bone-deep fear as I force out my answer. ‘It’s true.’

He leans forward then, elbows coming to rest on his knees as he emerges from the shadows into the dim lamplight.

My breath catches in my throat.

He’s younger than I expected, likely not much older than I am, and devastatingly beautiful in a way that makes my heart stutter. Stark white hair falls in choppy layers around a face that looks carved from marble, save for the jagged scar all the way from his left eyebrow, down over his eye, and across to the right side of his mouth, tugging his lips up slightly into a perpetual smirk.

Nearly every merc and outlaw in the Outer Reaches has his share of scars—and usually a few missing digits, too—but this one seems exceptionally vicious. And yet, it’s his eyes that hold me transfixed behind red circular lenses. Gunmetal gray, and so intense, I feel like he’s staring straight through to my soul.

Except… Something is off about the left one. It’s not quite as bright as the right. Is it real?

‘Interesting,’ he murmurs, studying me with that piercing gaze.

I can’t look away. Can’t even breathe properly. Old stories from one of the kinder guards float through my mind. Tales of avenging angels descending from the heavens with flaming swords to deliver divine justice. This man, with his otherworldly beauty and dangerous grace, seems too intense to be merely human.

‘Are you an angel?’ The question slips out before I can stop it, barely more than a whisper.

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and dark like aged whiskey. Not the cruel mockery I’m used to, but genuine amusement that transforms his severe features into something even more striking.

‘Now, why would you ask that?’ he questions once his laughter subsides, that one gray eye sparkling with curiosity. The other doesn’t.

I find myself fidgeting under his gaze, dropping my eyes to the carpet again. ‘You look like one,’ I mumble, heat rising to my cheeks. ‘I thought… maybe you were here to save me.’

The words sound even more stupid and childish out loud than they did in my head.

I stare at the man, waiting for the mocking laughter that usually follows any display of vulnerability on my part. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he leans forward in his chair, those mismatched eyes glinting with something unreadable.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I hesitate, my throat tight.

‘Robin,’ I finally whisper.

It’s not my real name—I don’t even know if I ever had one—but it’s the one Madame gave me.

‘Robin,’ he murmurs, his lip curling in distaste. ‘Robin is a shit name for a boy. Even a pretty one.’

Indignation that surprises me flares in me. Even though it’s not my real name, it’s mine.

The only thing in this world that is.

A grin spreads across his face, transforming those severe features. ‘There it is,’ he says, satisfaction evident in his tone.

‘What?’ I ask warily, unsure what game he’s playing. I thought I’d learned them all by this point.

‘The spark she hasn’t managed to kill yet.’ His voice is soft now but filled with something that sounds almost like pride.

I don’t know what to say to that. No one has ever looked at me like this before. No one has ever talked to me for this long without giving me a command.

It’s fucking terrifying.

He stands suddenly, and I fight the instinct to flinch away. For some reason I can’t explain, I want to hold his gaze. Want to be an alpha in his presence, not the broken thing Madame has made me.

‘Do you want to be rescued, kid?’ he asks, studying me intently. ‘Or do you want to save yourself?’

The question catches me off guard. It’s the first real choice anyone has offered me in… I can’t even remember how long. And the answer that rises to my lips surprises me.

‘I want to save myself,’ I whisper, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

He nods as if this is exactly what he expected, then strides to the window. With one fluid motion, he throws it open, gesturing to the night beyond.

‘There you go. There’s your way out. Nothing’s stopping you.’

I stare at the open window, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air carries the scents of the city. Smoke and garbage and… freedom. Terror and longing war inside me at the same time as I take a hesitant step forward.

But then I freeze.

Where would I go?

What would I do?

I can’t remember a time before Madame, before the collar around my neck and the commands that shape my every moment. The world outside these walls might as well be another planet.

The man watches me, his expression unreadable.

‘You’re afraid,’ he says.

It’s not a question.

‘I don’t know how to be free,’ I admit, the words barely audible. ‘I don’t know who I am without… her.’

He takes a step closer, and I notice he moves like a predator. All contained power and deadly grace.

But for some reason, I’m not afraid of him.

Not the way I should be.

I feel more shame in this moment than I did with that gun in my mouth earlier. The raw strength radiating from this man makes my weakness feel even more pathetic. His jagged scar speaks of battles survived, of a resilience I can’t even imagine. I expect to see disgust in his gaze when he looks at me—another alpha who’s nothing but a broken toy.

But he surprises me. His fingers find my chin, tilting it up with unexpected gentleness. He doesn’t force me to meet his gaze like so many others have. Instead, he offers the choice.

‘I can show you,’ he says, his voice low and certain.

My heart skips. ‘Show me what?’

‘How to be free.’ He gestures to the open window. ‘If you don’t want to fly, we’ll have to take the door. But I warn you—it’s going to be a bloody, ugly night. The first of many.’

I swallow hard, understanding the weight of what he’s offering. ‘And if I choose the door?’

‘There’s no turning back,’ he says, brutal honesty in every word. ‘Unfortunately for you, kid, I’m no one’s guardian angel. And if you want the devil to come to your rescue, it’s going to cost your soul.’

A shiver runs through me, but not of fear. His honesty is exhilarating after years of pretty lies and false promises. And I’m sure he means it as a warning.

But it sounds like a promise.

Belong to someone other than her?

Someone like him?

It’s more than I ever dared to dream of.

‘I’ll do whatever you ask,’ I whisper. ‘Just… please. Take me with you.’

A predatory grin spreads across his face. He reaches for the revolver at his hip, and I can’t help flinching as he places it in my trembling hands. The metal is warm from his body heat, so different from the cold gun from earlier. But the image of me on that floor, my hands trembling as I fought against pulling the trigger, flashes in my mind.

His breath ghosts across my ear as he whispers. ‘If you want to walk out of your prison, the first thing you have to do is kill the warden. Can you do that, little bird?’

I hesitate, the weight of the gun suddenly overwhelming. But before I can answer, he’s striding to the door and throwing it open.

Wyatt stands there, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. Me with the gun, the stranger with his dangerous smile. ‘What the f⁠—’

My hands shake as I realize I have less than a second to ask and Wyatt is already reaching for his gun. If I hesitate, we’ll both be dead. Worse, this chance at not-quite-freedom will slip away forever.

The gun fires before I even realize I’ve pulled the trigger.

The sound is deafening in the enclosed space. Wyatt crumples, a look of shock frozen on his face as bright red splashes from his throat. He hits the floor with a dull thud that seems to echo through my bones.

I stare at the body, unable to process what I’ve just done. The gun slips from my numb fingers, but the stranger catches it before it can clatter to the floor.

I’ve just killed a man.

I’ve just taken my first step toward freedom.

And somehow, watching the blood pool beneath Wyatt’s body, I feel more alive than I ever have before.

‘Not bad,’ the stranger purrs, twirling the gun into a better grip in his gloved hand. ‘You’re a natural. Next time you’re that close, aim right between the eyes. Cleaner that way.’

Without missing a beat, he fires another shot right into Wyatt’s forehead even though he’s already dead.

‘Never forget to double tap,’ he calls, already at the end of the hallway. When he realizes I’m still standing by Wyatt’s body, frozen, he stops and looks back. ‘Are you coming or not?’

As if broken out of a trance, my feet start moving again. I step over the corpse and put one foot in front of the other, my hesitation melting away with each step.

In this moment, I know.

I’ll follow my avenging demon anywhere.

Even into hell itself.

And that night, as we leave a pile of bodies and the brothel burning in our wake, the innocent survivors’ screams piercing the night air as they flee, I do just that. I tell myself I’ll never look back, and I don’t.

Not until I realize the one truth I somehow have just enough innocence left to deny.

The devil is a fucking liar.