Page 4 of A Twist of Luck (Shifter City Fated Mates #2)

CHAPTER 4

SLADE

T he more time I spent around the omega, the more intrigued I became. I’d reached a point where my brain was ninety percent occupied with unravelling the mystery of her and her life. I wanted to know it all: how she grew up, how it had shaped her, how she had so much fire when normally an omega was unassuming and accepting—especially of her alpha.

Omegas stood outside of the normal hierarchy in pack dominance, and while we were never plainly told why, it was reasoned that they kept our beasts from taking us over. They kept an alpha from losing control. It was never reasoned that their ability to withstand commands could be used as a factor in ruling against or controlling alphas.

Though, I’d theorized that maybe that was the exact reason.

Our omega was calm and levelheaded, even as she fought against the odds. She did calm my beast, as much as the dragon could ever be calmed, but it felt as if there was more to her as well.

Her compassion especially was a surprise, and an irritation at how easily it could get her into trouble. I was a dangerous shifter, and she’d already let her guard down multiple times in moments of vulnerability around me.

She could never show that same softness with another pack. It wasn’t safe. And I had a newly vested interest in keeping her safe.

“Don’t push me on this, dragon. Eat the fucking food.”

My dragon rumbled but he wasn’t upset. Her fire enticed us, and I almost smiled. Emme was an adorable kitten compared to my beast, but I’d let her have her dominance for the moment, especially if it kept her from spiraling into another panic attack.

I never wanted to see that look on her face again as she clawed at her skin, fighting an enemy that I couldn’t destroy—an enemy in her mind.

“Whatever you need, Snow,” I said, reaching for the bowl. Her pretty lips parted; her pupils dilated as I leaned into her and grasped the bowl. She followed my movements, arching forward toward me right as the door was kicked in at the top of the stairs.

The alpha who had upset her before started down the stairs. Blaine. She’d been yelping his name in her panic, and I wanted to tear his head from his shoulders just for breathing the same air as her.

Not bothering to pay him any attention—he was no match for me—I kept my gaze locked on Emmeline. I had a small obsession with observing the constant and quickly changing expressions on her face. She didn’t have any skill in shielding her emotions, flashing everything she felt to the world, which was a part of her I craved.

Somehow, though, she still remained a mystery.

I loved a good mystery.

Blaine reached the bottom of the stairs and let out what he must have thought was an impressive growl as he hovered close to his unconscious pack mate. I had no idea what his issue was; the pathetic excuse for an alpha was still alive. He’d probably even make a full recovery, if his healing was up to par.

I’d been downright generous. They should thank me by leaving us alone until I figured out the safest way to take them all down without Emme getting hurt.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, dragon scum.”

For fuck’s sake . Gnats were annoying until you swatted them dead.

Apparently, I hadn’t delivered enough of a warning with the last one, and with a sigh I set down the stew. As I turned to deal with him, Emme shifted closer to me, her arms trembling as her sweet scent turned acrid with fear.

She hadn’t reacted this way with the other troglodyte, but the entitled alpha bothered her.

This time, when my dragon reared up, he was most definitely irritated. “What did he do to you?” I hissed, barely restraining my beast. “Tell me exactly what he did. In detail . Leave nothing out.”

It was yet to be tested if the magically enhanced cuffs would stop my shift—there wasn’t enough space in this room to try. Hence why I’d been calculating the risks of all the other escape options. But if they threatened Emme in any way, my restraint would end.

“He—” she gasped, and with it, another surge of rage built in the fires in my gut. The fires were always churning and burning with the power of my ancestors, but her fear was a fuel I’d never experienced. I hadn’t lost control in years, but today… I was on the verge.

Eyes unfocused, Emme reached over her shoulder and rubbed her thick, ropey scar. Shifting my stance, my arm shot out to grasp the entitled alpha by the throat. With very little effort, I lifted him until only the tips of his boots dragged on the ground, and slowly hauled him closer. “What did he do to you, Snow? Tell me everything, and I’ll make his death nice and slow.”

My grip tightened, and he scraped at my hand, even going so far as to partially shift his claws, but it didn’t break my hold. “He helped Mom carve me up,” Emmeline whimpered. “To teach me a lesson. He destroyed her in the end as well. He’s a monster.”

As I tightened my grip, sulfur filtered through the open door at the top of the stairs, and the magically enhanced chains encasing me lit up with energy. I was zapped with enough force to knock out a normal shifter, which loosened my grip, allowing the other alpha to scoot away. He grabbed his pack mate from the floor and hightailed it up the stairs. Pathetic .

Turning away from the sight of him retreating with his tail between his legs, my heart almost stopped as Emme swayed and then tilted forward. I caught her before she hit the floor, my skin itching at the sensation of our touch, but oddly it was far less consuming than usual. Easily ignored . Especially as I focused on checking her vitals, hoping the witch’s zap of power hadn’t done any permanent damage.

A quick assessment indicated that outside of being unconscious, her pulse and heartrate were normal, and her scent, while shrouded in the sulfuric stench of magic, was also normal.

That was why my attack, and our escape, had to wait until my plan was solid. Not that we could wait too long and give them time to add to their forces.

It was a fine timeline, and I would make sure it was just right for my omega.

Emme took ten minutes to rouse. I used that time to plan my attack while monitoring her pulse and heart rate… and freely touching her as if it wasn’t completely out of character. I’d spent years expecting every brush across my skin to hurt, and it would take lifetimes to break that instinct. Not that I’d ever bothered to try rerouting my brain when it came to touch, but for a moment I wished to be less broken.

“Slade,” she mumbled.

It amused me that she’d never used our titles correctly. We were all strong enough for an entitled Alpha before our names. Not that Emmeline gave a shit, and for that, she made me proud.

“I’m here,” I said, as I gave her eighty percent of my attention, while the other twenty remained upstairs, where I tracked the dozen or so members of their army. I’d hurt their numbers back in Golden Claw, but not enough. “How are you feeling? They have a witch, or at least access to spells that can debilitate us through these chains. I need to figure out how to remove them before we attempt an escape.”

She pushed herself up and glanced around, her face pale as her striking eyes darkened. “Is it possible to remove magically enhanced cuffs without using magic itself?”

I’d been working on the one around my right ankle since we arrived here, and had dented and damaged the mechanism, but I couldn’t sever the final connection. “I’m not sure. Shifting would break them, but I don’t have the space. I’ll keep working on it while you keep healing. Finish the food for fuel… even the salad.” I’d smashed the first pile of grass, but there was a second bowl on the tray.

She grimaced, but didn’t argue, shuffling forward to pick up the scattered tray. She opened one of the water bottles and took a huge gulp before handing the second bottle over to me. Our fingers brushed as I took it, and she startled, while I forced myself not to react.

The urge to lash out or scrape off my skin was present, but much less than I’d ever felt before. It was almost a non-issue. I’d never have believed that anyone could desensitize me to their touch within hours—it took Hunter years to even be able to brush by me without copping a fist to the face. The rest of our pack was the same. If I initiated the contact, it was different, but they could never touch me first.

Emmeline collapsed against the wall, a bowl of salad in her hands as she grumpily shoveled the greenery into her face. She looked so put out eating lettuce, and the pout on her lips distracted me from my task.

Yep, my fascination continued to grow, and I was starting to wonder if my usual limited tolerance for shifters would not have the same limit with Emmeline.

“You want some?” she asked, holding the bowl out toward me. A glimmer of hope that I’d take it away shone on her face.

I almost laughed. An actual, amused laugh.

When I removed the bowl from her hands, she released the most relieved sigh I’d ever heard, and my restrained chuckle from before escaped. Her relief altered into shock, and she stared at me like she’d never seen another shifter before. Ignoring her, I dropped the repulsive greenery on the tray and returned to my task of releasing this cuff.

It took her a few seconds to recover from her shock, as she watched me closely from her peripherals. Eventually, she got to her feet and started to pace—another oddity for an omega, with her incessant need to move. “Are your injuries fully healed?” I asked, sensing no more pain but needing her confirmation.

There was a pause as she tested out her limbs and did a few jumps on the spot. “I still have a couple of mild aches, but otherwise, everything appears to be in working order. I think my healing has improved since letting my wolf out more.”

It would continue to improve through the years, but she’d never grow to what she could have been. The most fundamental growth periods were during our first shifts, and she’d been locked down by her mother and pack. It’d be a celebration when their entire pack was dead.

“We need to make a run for it soon,” I said, digging in the side of the cuff. “Our only issue is the witch magic. These cuffs give them a direct link to our shifter side, and my normal resistance is weakened. We need to take their witch out first. If she’s unconscious or dead, her magic won’t be as effective.”

“What if it’s not an actual witch?” Emme mused as she tilted her head. “You said they could just have access to spells she left behind.”

In my experience, most witches wouldn’t leave their magic in shifters hands, but I’d also never met any pack receiving as much magical help as the Rogers pack. There was a bigger connection here between this pack and the witches. One that I hadn’t managed to uncover in my research.

“They could have access to spells,” I finally admitted. “Which is why I’m going to attack first, while you remain down here. I’m strong enough that even if the witch is up there, she’ll have to use a lot of her power to knock me down. If she’s not up there, they’ll have to exhaust their stores of energy to stop me. Either way, it’s going to assist in us eventually getting out of here.”

Emme’s expression turned uneasy, her eyes a piercing, icy blue. Her face was easy-to-read, but her true worry and fear lingered deepest in her eyes. “I don’t like the thought of you going up there without me,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose and bringing my attention to the spatter of freckles across her cheeks. Who knew freckles could also be fascinating. “What if you get hurt? What if they kill you? I’d never even know.”

No one ever worried about me, and for very good reason. “If they can kill me, then there’s no hope for your survival, Snow. You should worry about yourself if that scenario comes to pass.”

Her expression fell and she immediately shut down as she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense.”

I examined her briefly, trying to understand what I’d said to upset her. The varying depth of emotions most shifters experienced were not familiar to me. I lived in a world of black and white, facts and figures, data and code. Emmeline Anders was all color and grayscale, spontaneity and beauty. It was a foreign language.

Ironic, considering I could speak almost every language known to shifters.

Just not Emmeline Anders, apparently.