Page 26 of Your Wild Omega

“Can I come in and see you to explain things?” I ask quietly.

Hannah scoffs in annoyance. “Thursday, eight am. Don’t be late, and you’d better have a good explanation, darling, or I’ll make sure you can never step foot in a couture showroom in this country again.”

It’s not an empty threat. If Hannah Sorentito blacklists me, I’m done for, and so are my clients. “I’ll be there,” I promise grimly, glancing back at my beautiful actress omega.

I’ll be there, but will Hannah accept my explanation? It’s not as if I have a good one.

Chapter ten

Callisto

It’s a four-hour drive out of the city to the shutdown trafficking hub. Agent Brett Walens, the agent who rescued Red, agreed to bring me out after overhearing me asking about the place. It seems everyone in the agency’s saying good things about the lawyers brought in to assist with the prosecution. Probably because we’ve been getting positive results in the trials so far.

Just not in Red’s case.

Brett parks the car outside a gloomy tunnel barricaded off with metal fencing and OCB caution tape. A warm spring sun shines down on us as we get out to look around the woodsy outcropping. Although green grass covers the rocky ground underfoot, heavy vehicles clearly tore up the area in the past, leaving deep wheel tracks. It feels like Red’s been in my life for a long time, but in reality, she’s only been free for a few months.

The agent shades his eyes. “Looks a bit different now.” He waves at the dark tunnel as he unlocks the temporary gate. “When we came for the raid, this opening was hidden behind aroller door painted to camouflage with the rest of the hillside. I tell you, these fuckers are as sly as they come.” Brett switches on a flashlight and points out the blast marks as we step into the shadowed mouth.

The strong white beam cuts through the dark as we follow the tunnel, making me feel edgy, as if we’re on a real sting mission. The back of my neck tingles with alertness and I scan over my shoulder regularly until we reach the facility’s entrance. Brett uses a special keycard to get through the dented metal door and then labors over a fuse box, muttering to himself as he figures out which switches control the lighting.

Bright white lights tick on one at a time, moving away from us down a long corridor.

“What was your impression that day?” I ask as we follow a polished concrete hallway. The speckled flooring curves up to meet walls painted a pale lemony color, with wooden handrails bolted on at waist height.

“Well, on first impression, it looks the same as a hospital, right?” He lifts his nose and sniffs. “Bit staler now without the AC running, but it smelled like one, all disinfectant and whatnot.” He points ahead. “But the deeper you go, the more horrors appear. Rooms with electronic locks requiring a keycard to get through.”

“The omegas’ rooms?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He pauses at an intersection and turns. “Down that way, the guys found fully equipped surgery rooms and science labs. Most of the stuff is with the evidence team now, but the way the forensics guys talked about it, these bastards experimented with cutting-edge memory manipulation, and even bond altering.” Brett touches his fingers to his shoulder and shudders. I can’t see it through his uniform, but given his comment, he must have a bond scar beneath.

It’s rare for alphas to accept a bond mark from another alpha. While a bond gives access to the other person’s emotions, it can also allow a degree of influencing, especially if the bond-giver has dominant tendencies. It would require a lot of trust to willingly enter that arrangement.

The idea weighs on me as I follow Brett. I can’t picture myself ever submitting to another alpha. I’m more the dominant type, at least verbally, so whenever I thought about a pack, I imagined I’d be the prime alpha.

But then I went and rejected my omega.

If I’d kept her by my side, would she have taken my name? I snort softly. Red Wren doesn’t have the same ring as Red Jones.

Brett clears his throat, drawing my attention back to the inspection. “So, up to this point, it still seems like a medical facility, right? But the true hell hides way in the back.”

We march through some long, twisty corridors, but the agent seems to know exactly where he’s headed. When I ask, he flashes a wry smile.

“That day’s kind of imprinted in my skull. And not in a good way. While all the action happened back in the first wing, my partner and I came down here to check for back exits. That’s when we heard her.”

He stops in front of a door and his chest heaves with a deep breath. He flicks a light switch on the outside wall and pushes the door open, beckoning me to go ahead.

In front of me is a stark room, three or four yards deep and the same wide. A stainless-steel counter with a sink runs along the end wall, facing a padded bed bolted to the floor. My heart sinks. Thick leather wrist and ankle restraints dangle over the edges, and another for the neck arches near the head of the bed.

Even months after it’s been vacated, Red’s haze scent clings to the walls and the padded bed. Other, fouler odors leach through the paint and scratches mark the back of the door, along withdull red stains. Blood. My throat closes up, the walls seeming to shrink even with the light on and the door open.

Brett leans on the doorframe, ensuring we won’t get accidentally locked in. “This is where we found the omega called O-11.”

“How—” My voice cracks and I try again. “How long was she in here?”

Brett shakes his head sadly. “Hard to know exactly, but there was a full bucket of excrement, suggesting weeks, if not more. She said she had months-old haze on her. The smell was unbearable, and the light made her scream.” He strokes around his nose and winces, clearly picking up traces of the captivity scents. Then his mouth curves up with a hint of a smile. “First thing she did, after cursing us out for taking so long to find her, was demand a shower.”

He offers me a pair of gloves and I tug them over my hands before stepping further inside. My hands twitch as I lift my phone to take pictures—the OCB has official photos for prosecuting, but this is personal now. Every piece of evidence will help me build a picture for the jury.

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