Page 74 of Unbonded
“It’s not my choice. When I told him about you, I just needed his help to find you. I thought you were going to use that heat auction place, and I wanted to get to you first.” He sounds like a little boy whose toy was snatched away, and I have to bite my lip to keep in my snarl. “He just wants the ring, and maybe a little payback for that Webber asshole. But I wantyou.Way more than any ransom your bosses are gonna hand over.”
He tries to pull me in for a kiss, but my arms lock against his chest. I’m shaking, and his eyes narrow as he stares at my pale face. “They’re my pack, Stanley. They’re not just my bosses. I live with them, and I love…”
I realize my mistake the second his mouth slams against mine. He’s not kissing me as much as biting the words off my lips, and I gag as his punishing tongue thrusts against mine. A growl vibrates in his chest, and when he pulls back, his eyes are seething. “Come on. We need to get this the fuck over with.”
“What?” He drags me towards the door, almost ripping the knob from the wood. “Stanley, just let me go and I won’t tell anyone…”
He yanks my arm harder, my panic rising as he heads towards the bathroom. The door is locked, and he fumbles with a key on his belt before he pushes me inside. The stench is overpowering, but he pushes me past the overflowing urinal, and I realize there’s a larger room behind it. Dented metal lockers line the walls, along with a couple of grimy showers and a row of toilet stalls. In the centre of the room four omegas are sitting on a small bench, their heads lowered, and their shoulders curled. They look like castaways clinging to a sinking raft in a storm, except they’re not clinging – they’re handcuffed to the slats. They’re also wearing identical sheer nightgowns, and my stomach flips again at the cloying stench of their fear.
“Got another one,” King grunts, and my gaze snaps to an older guy leaning against one of the lockers. He looks like a biker in his leather vest and tattoos, but his scent tells me he’s a beta. It’s nothing like Lachlan’s sunshine fragrance, but I feel a flash of hope until he drawls, “Does she get the same treatment as the others?”
King grinds his jaw but gives a curt nod. “Yeah. And she might need a double dose. She’s unbonded.”
The beta makes an unimpressed sound and pops open a locker, taking out a flimsy nightdress and a pair of handcuffs. But it’s the sight of the syringe in his hand that has me backing up into King. The alpha grunts, but holds me in an iron grip as the other man jams the needle into my arm.
I gasp at the painful rush of liquid into my veins. “What the hell is that?”
The beta pinches my chin and wags his brows at King. “Just a little party drug to get you in the mood.”
King grunts again, but I barely hear him, because heat is unfurling over my skin, and I feel a trickle of slick between my clenched thighs.
Oh, fuck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - LACHLAN
I probably shouldn’t be rifling through my mental cookbook while I’m in a conflict resolution workshop, but the truth is, I aced this training back in college. I was on my way to finishing my MBA at UChicago when the ass fell out of my small business, and I had to take an entry-level job at Safe Haven. It doesn’t matter that I finished my degree at the top of all my classes, and won an internship with the prestigious Huntington Wealth Partners, I’m pretty much back to square one as far as my career goes.
Humbling, frustrating, and sometimes downright depressing, but like I told Kate, all part of the road that led me back to her. I never planned to come back to New York after college, but where she goes, I go. And it’s not like it will be a hardship to move to Lenox Hill, although I plan on contributing to the pack in any way I can. Which is another reason I’m tossing up between a pasta all'amatriciana and a beef bourguignon, instead of memorizing the five core strategies for resolving conflict in the workplace.
I’m out the door as soon as we’re done, grabbing a cab while I chat to Janice about the contents of our pantry. She providesmeals on demand and oversees all the cleaning and maintenance staff who keep the house running. Corbus doesn’t really like dealing with strangers in his home environment, so I’ve become the de facto contact for his domestic service, and Janice and I now chat daily. As we cross the Brooklyn Bridge, she assures me I have all the ingredients for the bourguignon, including a case of Belgium beer I can substitute for the red wine in the recipe.
Kate was planning to only work a half-day at Sweet Eternity, but I still haven’t heard from her by the time we turn off FDR Drive. I shoot her another text, but when I ask the cab driver to swing past Paragon, a quick knock at the salon door goes unanswered. Maybe Dash came home earlier than expected and they’re resting up before tonight’s performance. I’m tempted to flag down another cab, but now I’m here, I decide to head upstairs and see if I can catch a ride with our alphas.
I’m a little nervous as I check in at reception, asking if Bram has a couple of moments to see me. The receptionist doesn’t look surprised that a complete stranger wants an impromptu meeting with their Head of Finance, and I’m directed straight up to the executive floor. Instead of Bram, Corbus is waiting to greet me at the door to his office, and I feel a bit like a country squire scoring an audience with the king as he ushers me inside.
To my surprise, he kisses my cheek, although the way he skims my scent gland tells me he must be needing his scent mate fix. “That fancy perfume you gave us really seems to work,” I tell him. “I keep catching a whiff of Katie and then I realize it’s me.”
As he leads me over to a pair of armchairs, he gives me one of his micro smiles. It’s more a softening of the lines of his eyes than any twitch to his mouth, but I eat it up. It’s like being given the key to a secret code, and I immediately want to crack another one, just to see if I can.
When we’re settled in front of his floor-to-ceiling view, he hands me a whiskey, and I have to wonder if the brush of hisfingers against mine is another example of his pack language. Small gestures, but with extra special meaning. “I studied you in college, you know,” I tell him as I take a sip of a single malt that dances on my tongue. “You were a case study of exceptional intergenerational wealth growth. My professor said you broke the mold that inheritance and intelligent money management rarely go hand in hand.”
“Cocoons of privilege,” Corbus muses as he runs his fingers over the seam of his trousers. “It’s no secret that money makes money, just as poverty is an almost inescapable cycle. I’m very aware of my financial blessings, but I learned at a young age that a precious gem is just a stone. There is no dollar amount I would ever put on our pack, Lachlan.”
Damn, but he can be as intense as Bram when he wants to be.
I nod, but he has pinned me with his icy blues, and I hold his gaze, appreciating both the beauty and sincerity in his face. “Just to be clear, when I gave you thatparfum, it was so I could scent you, as well. You’re as much a part of our pack as anyone,mijn liefje.”
I let the endearment sink into my skin, but I can’t stop myself from asking, “Even if you never bond with Katie?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze darting away to the view through the large window. “Do you really think that’s a possibility?”
“No. She cares about you guys, and she wants to be part of a pack. She’s just… cautious.”
There’s a flicker of relief in his eyes, his fingers going still on his knee. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m still very disappointed in the way I dealt with our bond, and would never forgive myself if I ruined our chances to court you both.”
I rub my jaw, a little surprised he’d declare his interest like that. But I guess he’s already courting us, in his own way. Imean, he’s let me move into his house, join in his omega’s heat, and rearrange his kitchen cabinets – how many emotionally-reserved billionaires would let you get away withthat?
“I think she understands,“ I tell him, because it’s suddenly very important to me that he knows his efforts are appreciated. “Katie has always had a lot of compassion, and she’s never been one to hold a grudge.” If she was, she might have seen what a toxic parasite Lee was years ago, but that’s a wormhole I’m not going down again.
