Page 48 of Unhinged Omega

Raven reaches into his pocket and pulls something small out. He tosses it over his shoulder in a high arc toward me. I catch it reflexively and look down at the flash drive now resting in my palm.

"If this is your freaky porn collection, it can die with you," I yell after him, waving it in the air even though he isn't looking at me anymore.

His laugh carries on the wind, but it's hollow. Empty. "Everything you need to find the Harbinger is on there. Good luck. You earned it."

That hits me like a fucking truck.

He's not even dangling it as a prize over my head to get me to change my mind. He's just... giving it to me. Like a goodbye present.

Like he knows he's not coming back.

Well, fuck you, too, asshole.

I stuff the drive into the pocket of my jeans, cursing under my breath as I force myself to stomp back to my SUV. The door creaks as I yank it open, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves.

The engine roars to life and I floor it, gravel spraying as I execute a sharp U-turn. I need to put as much distance between myself and that lovesick idiot as possible.

Before I do something stupid.

Like go after him.

Like try to save him from himself.

I could use my alpha bark on him.

I couldmakehim stop.

I couldmakehim turn around and get back in the damn car.

But I feel like the biggest shithead in the fucking universe for even considering the idea for the half-second it enters my head.

Forcing Raven to listen to me is not an option.

The first time I made the mistake of using my alpha bark, years ago when he was being particularly insufferable, I learned the hard way about his... condition. The way he reacted—going completely pliant, eyes unfocused, waiting for the next command—haunted me for a long damn time.

That was when I finally understood why an alpha would choose to work in a brothel. Why he flinches sometimes when other alphas get too close. Why he uses humor and flirtation as armor.

He's not just an alpha who likes other alphas.

He's an alpha who responds to alpha commands like an omega would.

He wouldn't tell me much that night after I apologized—his past is the one subject he won't ramble on about for hours if given the chance—but over the years, I've managed to piece together enough from the few and far between moments he gets drunk enough to actually let his guard down.

Whatever he went through in that hellhole before Nikolai found him, it changed him. Molded him. Made it impossible for him to do anything, eat, drink, sleep, even stand without that bitch's permission. He was submissive to the point of not beingable to function without someone to rule over every mundane aspect of his life, all for the sick pleasure and amusement of the madame—a woman he's only ever referred to as "her"—and her clients.

He's always seen Nikolai as the one who saved him, but as far as I'm concerned, all that asshole did was to transfer her authority over Raven to himself.

Nikolai just gave him a longer leash.

And I won't be the third to do that to him.

The road stretches out ahead of me, empty and desolate. Just like it's always been. Just the way I like it.

So why does it feel so wrong?

Chapter

Twelve

---