“I’ll only be a minute.”
“And I’ll be right here,” I replied.
We were wrong, of course. Orion was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it was just about to. He strode over to the bar with all that lord of the manor shit he rocked unconsciously, and dancers parted for him, but not people at the bar. It was several ball goers deep when he got there, looking impatiently over th
e tops of people’s heads.
It was OK, I was just going to sit here and wonder if hand fans could be brought back in vogue, because damn, I was feeling hot. My skin was clammy and sweat pricked everywhere, which should have been my first warning. The second came when I looked across the room, down the long corridors of the ballroom.
I’d walked one of those, when Benson commanded me into one of the many rooms that branched off from them. The offices of the Omega Institute, they were often repurposed as places for lover’s trysts.
Or sexual assaults. Like then. Like now.
It was like suspense movie 101. I saw her, Ariadne, being hustled across the parquet floors, the hand of a big strong alpha wrapped around her upper arm. She looked over her shoulder, a picture of reluctance, desperately searching for someone to help, but her mouth never opened. People always ask that, why didn’t I call out, make a fuss, get someone’s attention, but that wasn’t how it works. We’re socially groomed to be complicit in our own sexual assaults, to help use guilt to silence us. I was up and out of my chair as soon as I saw her, walking towards the bar, but a barrage of dancers brushed past, making it impossible for me to get to Orion.
Or did it? As soon as I stood, a wave of heat washed over me, making my vision swim. So I took the easiest possible route, walking around the dancefloor and down the corridor after them.
Too stupid to live, that was what they called those horror movie heroines who blundered into the darkened room when the lights didn’t work, and I was a perfect example of that.
“Ariadne?” I called out, my voice ringing out clearly now that I’d stepped away from the main throng. People looked at me as I passed, but I walked quickly, then ran down the corridor, right up until she was dragged into the room. It wasn’t Benson doing the dirty work, but the man had the same patrician features and impeccably tailored formal wear that made me think he was just a stand-in for him—a stand-in who might be a whole lot more successful than Benson had been. I ran towards the door, my hands wrapping around it. I didn’t check my surroundings, didn’t keep my awareness on what was going on around me, my heart beat smashing in my chest in a rapid tattoo as it all came back.
“Such a good little omega. You want to please me, don’t you?”
The unctuous slide of his voice against my skin, the feel of his fingers. It was almost as if Benson was right here as I tugged and twisted at the doorknob like a mad person.
Because he was. A hand landed on my shoulder, heavier than before, my body feeling like lead now. Drugged drinks, I thought dimly as I began to sway on my feet, blinking madly. My hands slapped clumsily at my dress, searching for my knife sheaths, but he did the job for me, rucking up my skirts and removing them neatly.
“Tsk, tsk. No mate of my son’s should go around armed. I guess it’s just as well this will go down as one of the shortest matings in history.”
I heard the sounds of the knives thrown to the ground, then my guts lurched as he dragged my hands behind my back, holding both my wrists with one hand as he unlocked the door with his other one.
“No unwanted interruptions this time,” Benson growled out and then shoved me inside.
Chapter 39
A sharp pinch, and then my eyelids fluttered open.
Well, fuck.
I didn’t know if this was the same room, but it was close enough to send a bolt of fear through me.
“No…” I croaked out, and I had an echo, Ari saying the same thing. She was being held down, her wrists bound together as she sprawled at the other alpha’s feet. I, however, hung in Benson’s grip.
“I’ve done my part, Ratcliffe,” the man said. “Now I’ll take the girl and return her when I’m finished with her.”
“Not yet.” Benson Ratcliffe strolled toward the only light in the room, coming from a desk lamp, falling over his face. “My daughter has uses beyond what you intend for her.”
“Daughter?” The man recoiled.
“It’s of no consequence. I got her on a little academy omega, set her up in a cottage, and let her mature. She’s green, untried.” That didn’t seem to deter the man at all, his tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. “But she’s also insurance.”
“For what? If you think you can blackmail me, I’ll—”
“Not you, Juniper. The omega. My son’s omega.”
I heard the sound of Ari’s whine as a small leather case was pulled from Benson’s pocket and slapped down on the desk, the zipper then opened. A long hypodermic needle, just as Ari had described, was slotted inside, along with several ampoules. Her cries got louder, the other alpha, Juniper, grabbing her by the hair and shaking her to be silent. That said a lot, as he could’ve gotten the same result with just a word.
“We’re just going to have a little talk, and then you can be on your way, all of you.”