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Yulia scoffed. “If they wanted it easy, they wouldn’t fly to Paris and pay the astronomical member’s fee and then another astronomical fee on top of that. But they’ll do all that for something unattainable. For a taste of the forbidden or a glimpse at a secret nobody else is allowed to see. ”

“You want me to strip,” Isobel surmised, her tone becoming sapped of emotion, her shoulders inching down, hunching inward.

“Yes.”

Dance had always been her power, and Yulia was trying to take that away. She was using it to turn her into a victim.

For just a moment, she wavered. Not because of what Yulia was saying but because of all the terrible possibilities it opened up.

“I want them all to sign contracts before they step into the room.” Her entire body was turning numb. “For my protection.”

Yulia sniffed. “Naturally. We protect our assets. These contracts already exist.” She didn’t look happy.

“I need to approve the contract,” Isobel insisted.

Yulia’s eyes slitted, beginning to burn, an icy fire dripping over Isobel’s features in a quick sweep of caution. “I’ve been extremely generous in our negotiations so far, Carter. Negotiations that are essentially unnecessary. We don’t need your permission to amend your Dahlia contracts.”

Isobel swallowed her retort, feeling Elijah’s voice inside her head. Not his actual voice, but a part of her own brain that had adopted his sense of logic. Yulia was doing this for a reason. She needed Isobel to be willing and compliant.

Because … the Alphas wouldn’t be .

Isobel sighed, pressing her fingers into her forehead. Isobel taking on private clients was far more beneficial to them than the Alphas, with the exception of a few. Most of them would end up insulting and possibly even assaulting the clients.

“Kalen and Mikel—” she began, but Yulia cut her off.

“Still aren’t available to swap out. They will be serving regardless. You will only be sparing the other eight Alphas.”

There was nothing else she could bargain with.

“I’ll strip down to my underwear,” she said with a sigh, her throat constricting around bile, her mind rebelling. It wasn’t any better or worse than some of the dance costumes she wore, but this was different , and they both knew it.

The Alphas would know it.

Fuck. She had two boyfriends now. They would definitely know it. Two boyfriends and four … men she slept with. She knew all six of them considered her theirs , just like she considered them hers.

They were going to revolt.

And the other four? Niko hated when people made her uncomfortable—he always had, even before the soul infraction damaged him, but now he was decidedly violent about it.

Moses was a wild card. She had no idea how he would react.

Kalen and Mikel were as uncomplicated as they were unpredictable.

She knew they weren’t going to accept that she was doing this, not a chance in hell.

She just didn’t know what their repercussions would be.

“Topless,” Yulia snapped, the word jolting Isobel in her seat. “And we will make them sign a contract.”

“They can’t touch me.”

“That … is what all our contracts say,” Yulia gritted out. “Naturally.”

“It has to state consequences,” Isobel insisted.

“Do we have a deal or not?” Yulia tugged out her phone again. “You’re beginning to annoy me. Perhaps this isn’t worth the trade.”

Isobel swallowed and then swallowed again. The words stuck in her throat before she finally managed to wrangle a husky acceptance from her lips. “Fine.”

“Great.” Yulia flashed her a sharp, annoyed smirk. “We already have a client waiting. Don’t worry. He’s already signed our standard protection contract and knows he isn’t allowed to touch you.”

We already have a client waiting.

The words clanged around her head belligerently, hammering into soft, gullible tissue.

She had done exactly what they assumed she would.

She had spoken exactly how they intended, bargained for exactly what they already had waiting in offer.

She had just proven, with aching clarity, exactly how powerless she really was .

Niko snapped his head up as the guard answered his phone again, Niko’s fingers rhythmically clenching and unclenching as he shared loaded, silent looks with the other Alphas.

Their group hung in suspension as the guards seemed to wait for something.

His Alpha hearing could pick up Yulia’s accented voice on the other line, but he couldn’t make out her words.

“Understood,” the guard grunted, listening to further instructions.

After hanging up, the guard shifted his gun to his other shoulder. “You two,” he pointed at Kalen and Mikel, “will pick your guests after the show. The rest of you are off the hook.”

What show?

Instead of feeling relieved, Niko felt a deep, sinking sense of dread.

It was accompanied by a vast, unstable mass of rage, like a big chunk of ice threatening to dislodge from a frozen mountaintop.

The mass would soon collide with his fragile control, either splintering into icy daggers to rip through his insides as he battled to keep himself contained, or it would cause a landslide and crush everyone around him.

—you hear me?

Isobel’s voice suddenly sliced back into his head, full of panic.

The other Alphas straightened. Oscar’s dark eyes glinted dangerously, probably fighting a similar mountain to Niko.

His soul wasn’t damaged like Niko’s was, but his chaotic power had warped him, making him just as erratic.

What happened? Kalen demanded.

I’m sorry . Isobel’s voice was clipped and frightened, drawing all of them to their feet, except for Gabriel and Elijah, who at least had the sense not to act like they didn’t somehow know telepathically that their mate was near again.

Niko began to pace as though the waiting was getting to him, keeping his agitated gaze on the ground and steadfastly away from the door.

The guard moved to a long mirror taking up one length of the wall, drawing all of their silent attention. He pressed a button, and suddenly, the mirror was a window with a clear view into another room.

The room was bathed in a soft red glow, a sunken leather seating area surrounding a very small stage, with a pole in the centre.

What did you do? Gabriel snarled at Isobel through the bond. Niko stared at his friend in alarm. Gabriel had never taken that tone with her.

And then he turned his eyes to the window.

That chunk of rage inside him tremored and vibrated, the mountain beneath feeling suddenly unstable. He moved to the wall, placing his hand against the cold surface to convince himself the room wasn’t shaking.

He didn’t understand what was happening, but Gabriel did. He remained seated, his expression stony— bored, even—while his tone had somehow been both a weapon and a wound.

Nobody else tried to speak through the bond, and Isobel didn’t answer.

The door to the red room opened, a man striding in. His tall frame was wrapped in an expensive suit, his moustache neatly trimmed, light hair peppered with silver streaks. Intelligent, dark blue eyes crawled around the room as the door was closed behind him.

Isobel still didn’t answer.

Little pinpricks of her emotion were beginning to filter through Niko’s chest. She was moving closer.

Gabriel stood, calmly walking to the glass and staring at the man on the other side who was unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat, one ankle crossed over his knee. They couldn’t hear his movements in the other room. They could only see him.

Kalen moved to stand beside Gabriel, a word spat from between his lips in a whisper too low for anyone to catch. He shot a quick look at the guards, fury briefly written across his face before he managed to violently shrug all tells from his face and body.

Mikel also jumped up, glaring at the man.

There was something here Niko was missing.

His phone vibrated just as Kalen surreptitiously slipped his back into his pocket.

Instead of checking his phone, Niko forced out a sigh of impatience and checked his watch, bending his face over it to block out any cameras.

He tapped into the new message on the small screen.

Kalen: Ivan.

Niko made a show of cracking his neck and looking bored before he sauntered over to the window.

Ivan was a Swedish billionaire with clubs all over the world.

He had even started up one of his kink clubs in Kalen’s settlement in Arizona.

He was rich, he owned sex clubs, and he was associated with the Gifted, so it wasn’t necessarily surprising for him to be in the Stone Dahlia …

but why were they watching him, and why did it seem like Yulia Novikov was playing a fucked-up game with them all and Isobel was about to pay the price?

Because she was.

He realised what had happened as soon as the door opened, and Isobel stepped into the red room.

She was terrified. All of the professional competence she had worked to cultivate every weekend for her Stone Dahlia performance was gone.

Sapped from her beautiful features until she suddenly seemed several years younger and more unsure than she had ever been.

She was shaking like a leaf, her usually pink lips pinched and pale, her eyes wide, pupils shrinking and expanding.

She blinked at the man, recognising him.

They spoke, but Niko couldn’t hear their words.

Someone, somewhere, was growling. No … more than one person.

Fuck, it was him . The mountain in his mind began to fracture, great big sections cracking away with deafening sounds.

Gabriel was swearing. Kalen was swearing.

Oscar began to snarl something that might have been a threat to someone, his voice pitched low, but then Mikel seemed to cut him off.

“You can’t threaten a human,” Mikel’s Alpha voice whipped around the room, staggering in its force, blanketing them all.