Page 9

“Yeah, but you’re always fucking exhausted,” I tease.

Kane’s sleep is always shitty. It’s a running joke that if anyone needs anything at an absurd time of night, Kane is the one to call.

Like now. I’d ask him if this shipment of supplies is really that important that it can’t wait until morning. But I know the answer. That’s why I’m here with him at two AM.

We’ve gotten quite a few new high-profile clients who want the process of things expedited, so getting started on moving these supplies to our warehouses is essential.

Kane’s brows furrow as he pulls out his phone from his back pocket.

“We’re here now, why’re they calling?” he murmurs. “It’s not like we’re late.”

He picks up, putting the phone on speaker.

“We’re in the parking lot,” Kane says. “Is there something wrong with the shipment?”

“Boss! Thank god you’re close. We’ve got a fucking problem. There was an omega or something in one of the train cars and she’s kinda freaking out.”

“What?” Kane growls.

What is right. An omega? In one of the train cars? What in the world is going on?

“We’ll be there soon,” Kane says.

“You gotta hurry, boss! This doesn’t feel right, I think she may be hurt.”

Kane hangs up, his jaw clenched. We start jogging towards the train yard.

“What in the world do you think is going on?” I ask. “Why would a hurt omega be in an industrial train car?”

“I don’t know,” Kane says. “Where was this shipment coming from?”

My blood goes cold. “It came up through the Southside,” I breathe out.

That makes both of us run faster. My feet crunch against the gravel and the air is cold in my lungs.

I’ve never met an omega from the Southside. Most Southside omegas elect to go through the interview process given their families usually don’t have enough connections or money to find good matches.

But I remember my life in the Southside. The hunger. The powerlessness. The shit I had to do to survive.

I can’t imagine the Southside would be much kinder to an omega.

A terrified scream pierces the air. And they keep going. Desperate screams.

We make it to the train with our stuff and my eyes instantly hone in on a loose crowd of our guys surrounding the crumpled form of an omega.

She’s in nothing more than a blood-stained nightgown. I can’tsee where she’s hurt but the knowledge sheishurt burns through my veins.

Kane looks just as pissed.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I yell. “Why is there a screaming omega on the floor?”

The poor omega makes a strangled sound at the sound of my voice, starting to sob quietly instead, and I instantly regret yelling.

We’re close enough that I can finally see her features. Her hair is a dull gold, covered in dust and grime. Her skin, where it’s not covered in bruises or dried blood, is so incredibly pale it’s like the sun has never touched her. Her body is trembling, probably a combination of fear and the cold.

Her scent hits me like a fucking truck. Even with the sharp, bitter notes of her terror, the soothing balm of her peppermint scent still covers me from head to toe. I’ve never scented a perfume this intoxicating before. It only makes the blood flowing through my veins pump harder.

This girl is special.Mine.