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Luther
The cot beneath me is little more than a slab of metal with a threadbare excuse for a mattress stretched over it. It offers no comfort, no reprieve from the cold pressing in from the damp stone walls. The chill seeps into my bones, curling around my spine, settling deep in the muscles of my back. I tilt my head against the wall, shutting my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to breathe through the suffocating weight of my bonds with my mates.
It’s chaos. A tangled mess of fear and fury thrumming through my veins. My instincts scream at me to act, to move, to fight, but from within this cell, there’s absolutely nothing I can do.
Luca’s heartbeat slams through the bond, erratic and sharp. His anxiety is thick, an electric current, his panic clawing at the edges of my mind. It’s suffocating. But it’s Blake who’s worse. He’s slipping, his presence in the bond slipping. It’s stretched too thin, the strain nearly unbearable, a thread fraying at the edges, ready to snap. Dread sinks into my stomach at the thought of what he must be suffering at this moment, my mind running through the worst possible scenarios.
Is it his heart? Is he breathing? Did they have to take him to the hospital again?
Worries settle in, even as I let out a heavy breath, curling my fingers into my palms until the skin burns. The frustration, the helplessness, it rips through me like a punishment I justly deserve. I can’t do a damn thing from here. That’s the worst part. That’s what twists the knife deeper.
I need an out, some way to speak with my family, some way to check in and know that everything is going to be alright. I know damn well that it won’t be for a long time but hearing their voices or at the very least hearing Maceo say that we’re going to get through this will be enough. I never thought he’d be someone I truly leaned on but after all this fuckery, I can’t imagine him anywhere else.
Leaning my head back against the wall, I clear my throat, hoping to draw some attention my way. Most of my time has been spent in and out of the interrogation room, Peyton shouting in my face or through the bars of this cell, demanding answers I don’t have. Sure, I broke the law by bonding Luca but other than that? I’ve done nothing wrong. This entire investigation was born out of a fragile man’s ego that’s going to crumble the moment justice takes its course.
However, I’m beginning to realize that justice isn’t the strongest force in this precinct. Connections are, ones I don’t have. Yet.
When no one answers me, I clear my throat again, running my fingers along the bars, the contact echoing in the dimly lit hallway. It’s only a few seconds before I get a response, heavy footsteps headed to my cell. I’m not surprised that it’s Peyton, the detective who’s dead set on ruining me. Whether it’s because he’s on Hudson’s payroll or because he’s a shit officer, I have no clue and it doesn’t matter.
“I need to speak with my lawyer,” I tell him.
Peyton snorts, gripping his belt and readjusting it like men puff out their chests, trying to show that they’re the bigger man. “You mean your Beta? Don’t bullshit me, Keller. I know a mate when I see one and that guy is not a lawyer.”
“Actually, Peyton, he’s both because unlike some people, he can multitask and he’s doing a damn good job of it. Now, I’ve asked for my lawyer and it’s your duty to fetch him like the dog you are.” The words come out too easily, irritation bleeding into my voice. I’m done playing the docile Alpha who’s been caught in a bad situation because that’s hardly what this is. Hudson abused Luca, tried to break him, snuff out the bit of sunshine that lives in his eyes.
And fuck if I’m going to let him finish the job.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re pulling you in for questioning again.” He sticks the key in the door and swings it open before reaching off to the side for the heavy chains he thinks will keep me from raging. If anything, it’s just humiliating. He straps cuffs around my wrists and ankles without resistance before slipping a chain to connect them so that any quick movement is restricted. I just watch him double check that everything is tight enough before pulling me to my feet. “Don’t try any of your bullshit in here. The sooner you give us the answers we need, the better.”
This time, it’s my turn to laugh. “Peyton, you do realize anything that I say as of this moment can’t be used in a court of law? I asked for my lawyer, which you have denied me.”
“I haven’t denied you anything. Just… delayed it a bit. Make this easier on us and confess, alright?” Peyton tugs me toward the interrogation room I’m always stuffed in, the same one Detective Ward managed to let me see Grayson in.
I have no idea what Peyton thinks I’ll confess to but he’s definitely accused me of a slew of things, one of which is stealing Luca from Hudson. He has to be brain dead not to understand what Luca suffered at the hands of that Alpha but that’s the least of my problems. Peyton stuffs me into a chair, the chains rattling as he hooks it up to the desk.
My gaze flicks up, locking onto Peyton’s. “Is this necessary?”
“Stealing someone’s Omega is one of the worst crimes a man can commit.” He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my cheek. He wants me to react. Wants me to snap. I don’t. “And the fact that you already have one?” He tuts, shaking his head like this is personal for him. “You should’ve stayed in your lane, Keller.”
A beat of silence spreads between us as Peyton leans against the opposite wall, folding his arms across his chest while I sit here, strung up like a goddamn beast. “Ask your fucking questions, Peyton. Not sure what you’re waiting on.”
He says nothing, waiting until another officer steps in—Garrett, I think. Just another dog on Hudson’s payroll or maybe an idiot, I’m not sure. My mates seem to be faring worse the longer I sit here, Blake so fucking weak that I can’t tell if he’s dying or just weak. Luca isn’t much better, the bond racing with exhaustion, fear, and confusion. And Grayson is trying so damn hard to keep them together. When I get out of here, we’re leaving the corporate world behind for as long as we can stand it, just the five of us—Maceo included—away from the strain of this reality. Just for a little while.
Garrett plops into a seat at the table, leaning forward as he plants his elbows on the table and then folds his hands. He’s trying to project authority. Trying to come off as calm, as reasonable, as if he isn’t just waiting for me to crack. “We need to go over what happened with Luca.” It’s the same old script they’ve been playing with for days now. “The timeline. When his heat was, whether he was under duress at the time of the mating bite, and most importantly—where he is now.”
Yeah, I’m not fucking answering that. I lean back against my seat as much as the chains will allow, raising a brow in challenge.
Peyton drops beside him, already impatient, already annoyed. “Luther,” he huffs. “We need to confirm—was the bite coerced?”
I’m not sure what they don’t understand. It’s been the same goddamn answer from the very first time they asked and it still hasn’t changed. “No.” It’s simple, one word, and it’s all they’re going to get out of me.
Peyton snorts, shaking his head. “Just give up and answer the damn questions.”
“You don’t want to hear my side, so why bother?” Every instinct is telling me to rage, to lunge, to act out but that’s what they want. They want to paint me as an abusive, uncontrollable Alpha in which a judge would eagerly sign off saying that Luca wasn’t safe in our home. And because I know Hudson is a piece of shit, he’d try to say that both of my Omegas weren’t safe with me. “Look, I get it. No, I don’t actually. For some fucking reason, you’re hellbent on making me confess to something that didn’t happen. I would never coerce an Omega into something they didn’t want. But because you don’t want to believe that Hudson is an abusive fuck, I’m here, chained to this table while you ask me the same question you did a few hours ago, last night, and the day before. Or maybe, you already know, but you’re trying to bury it under a confession.”
I watch them, carefully, reading the flickers of emotion they don’t bother to hide. Garrett stiffens slightly, his lips pressing into a hard line, but Peyton is too fucking smug.
It can’t be that fucking easy, can it? This whole investigation goes away the moment I confess to coercing Luca. And then… “If you get my confession, you can get the court to sign off on a bite removal.” It would be my bite removed, leaving him with only Hudson as his Alpha. I’ll give that man credit. He’s not as dumb as these fuckers. “Glad we had fun. I’d like to speak with my lawyer.”
“Not yet,” Peyton pushes out.
Garrett pushes back from his chair, the scrape of metal against tile grating against my skull, the sound setting my teeth on edge. He doesn’t look at me as he stands, doesn’t say a word. Just moves toward the door like he’s making some big fucking decision, part of some grand plan they’ve been waiting to unfold.
When he opens it, the smell hits first. Cigarettes. Stale and heavy, clinging to skin and fabric like a second layer. But underneath it, there’s something worse. Something bitter, something rotten, something that carries the sharp edge of possessiveness, of control.
I don’t need to look to know that Hudson is standing just outside that door. I’d ask what he’s doing here but all of this bullshit is so corrupt that it’s not hard to guess. The Alpha steps inside, measuring me up with one glance before stepping to the edge of the table. His grim smile soon spreads until it’s pure fucking glee at my predicament. He’s enjoying this too much.
I bite back the immediate reaction, tamp down the fury pressing against my ribs. There’s nothing to gain from reacting. Nothing to gain from giving him what he wants. Turning to face Garrett, I voice my objection with this current scene. “He’s not employed with the department. He shouldn’t be here.”
Peyton laughs, a sharp sound that just makes this situation worse. “That’s rich,” he says, and I hate the way his voice drips with amusement. “Coming from someone who smells an awful lot like Grayson Keller.”
It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out that Grayson had been here or that I had been all over him the moment he stepped in this room, his earthy scent wrapped around me, daring me to claim him like I so desperately needed to.
“We all know Ward let him in here,” Peyton continues, tapping his fingers against the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern. “So, it’s only fair that Hudson gets a chance to question where his Omega is.”
Hudson steps forward, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly, eyes watching me with that same smug, self-satisfied look he wore when we first met. “Luther,” he says, dragging my name out, wrapping it in false familiarity. “This all goes away,” he says, gesturing vaguely with one hand, like it’s that easy, like the solution is right there for the taking. “If you hand over the Omega.”
The Omega? Something curls tight in my chest as I fist my hands in my lap beneath the table, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of my reaction. Unfortunately, a growl rumbles through my chest as I glare up at Hudson. “You talk about him like he’s your property .”
For just a second, just a fraction of a moment too quick to grasp, something flickers in his eyes. It’s small, subtle, something that doesn’t quite fit.
Something that almost—Then it’s gone.
“Look, he’s my Omega.” He pauses, lets the words settle in the air, lets them sink in. “My husband. You had no right to bite him.”
I should keep my mouth shut. I know that. But Hudson is standing there, arms loose at his sides, looking at me like I’ve taken something that belongs to him. His head is tilted just enough to let his arrogance show, his lips turning up in a snarl that he thinks he’s earned. He stands like a man who believes the world owes him something, like he’s convinced Luca is nothing more than property he’s been cheated out of.
Maceo would advise me to keep a neutral expression, to let this moment pass but I can’t. So I smirk.
I lean back in the chair, the cuffs rattling as I shift, the cold steel biting into my skin. “I had every right to take care of that sweet, battered Omega,” I muse. “Because in the moment, he was begging for my bite.”
The snarl he lets out, his growl following, reverberates around the room as his entire body locks up. Then the first punch lands clean against my jaw. Pain bursts white-hot behind my teeth, radiating outward, sinking into my nerves, but I barely have time to process it before the second hit slams into the side of my head. The third comes faster, snapping my head to the side with enough force to send a ringing through my ears.
Blood fills my mouth. The taste of iron sits thick on my tongue, pooling under my teeth as I try to swallow around it.
The cuffs keep me locked in place, the chains rattling uselessly with each blow. There’s no way to move with the impact, no way to brace. The pain spreads, radiating from my cheekbone, my jaw, the pounding at my temple making my vision swim.
I force my head up anyway, blinking past the sting, past the static edge of my sight, and focus on Hudson. His fists are still clenched, knuckles split and red from the force of the hits. The heat rolling off him is thick with rage, choking the air from the room. But it’s not enough, not that it ever would be for him.
Because no matter how hard he swings, no matter how much he takes out on me, it won’t change the fact that Luca is gone. That Luca is mine now. That Luca wanted out. Hudson won’t ever forgive me for that. He’ll never forgive him for that.
“Enough,” Peyton cuts in, stepping forward.
Garrett is already moving, gripping Hudson by the shoulder, yanking him back, forcing space between us. Hudson doesn’t resist, but his wild eyes never leave mine. Peyton adjusts his tie, shaking his head like this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Like me sitting here, blood pooling in my mouth, is just another problem to be managed. Another box to check off on a long, tedious night of paperwork.
“If you just hand over the Omega,” Peyton says, tone clipped, “we can close the investigation.”
Was this supposed to scare me? Was Hudson part of the tactic to get me to confess to something I didn’t do? To something that would never happen in my house? I tip my head back, let the pain settle into my bones, let the moment stretch. It gives me something else to focus on than the strained bonds, a way to feel when everything else has been taken from me.
Then I turn my head to the side and spit onto the table, letting the blood splatter across the metal in a slow, dark stain. “If any of you were smart enough to truly understand why I was here, you would have known that the investigation was opened to determine whether or not Hudson abused Luca,” I say, steadying my voice, despite the throbbing in my skull. “And we’ve already provided sufficient evidence to support those claims. Somehow, though, the focus turned onto me,” I continue, watching the way they shift uncomfortably. “Because I made him mine during a heat. If you don’t see the irony in that,” I murmur, spitting more blood onto the floor, watching as it pools against the tile. “Well, that’s not really my fucking problem, is it?”
“You’re nothing,” Hudson roars, Garrett still holding him back. “You’re fucking nothing. You took what’s mine and you’re going to pay for it.”
“Yeah, Hudson? What’s next, huh? You gonna threaten me some more? Gonna beat me until you feel better about yourself?” I rattle the chains, testing his control. Some part of me knows that this isn’t going to help anything but the amusement of making Hudson seethe is a little too hard to pass up. “Beating a man when he’s down makes you truly a big, strong Alpha, doesn’t it?”
Hudson lunges but this time Garrett slams him against the wall, telling him to calm down, Peyton looking just the slightest bit worried. As if he hadn’t planned for Hudson to be this unhinged. And when Hudson slips free, I brace for impact.
Nothing happens.
The door opens, an entirely different presence entering the space, a presence that immediately demands respect. We all freeze, staring at the entrance, the chief of police stepping inside. Trenton glares at the four of us, taking in the scene with a silence that has fear creeping down my spine. There are few men that rival my Alpha instincts. Trent is one of them.
Having met the Alpha a few times, I’ve done my best to avoid him and work with Detective Ward or some of the officers when the need arises. His gaze falls on Garrett and then Peyton, his entire demeanor morphing from ‘what the fuck is going on here’ to ‘you better have a good fucking explanation’. Peyton wilts beneath his stare, Trent shaking his head. “I want Hudson out of here. Now. ”
Garrett yanks him out of the door, Hudson still glaring at me like those beady little eyes will do anything. He starts flinging curses at me, his voice disappearing as he moves out of earshot. I’m more excited to watch whatever Trent is about to do to Peyton, though.
“Chief, Ward let Grayson in so I was just—”
Trent lets out a hearty laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Peyton.” His voice drops lower, but it doesn’t lose its sharpness. “You think for one goddamn second that letting a man see his mate is the same thing as letting someone beat a defenseless man bloody? If you do, we’re gonna have a fucking problem.”
Peyton doesn’t speak.
“As it stands, Peyton,” the Chief states, taking a slow step forward, “you’re suspended for the week. Get the fuck out of my face before I make it two weeks.”
“But Ward—”
“Was suspended as well. I don’t discriminate when it comes to breaking the rules. However, he was 100% prepared to take his punishment. You on the other hand did this for what reason? Validation? So that someone would suck your balls? If I find that you’re getting paid in any way for the bullshit you pulled, I will have your badge. When I’m done with Keller, I don’t want to see you.” Trent waits until Peyton leaves the room before he shuts the door and then turns to face me.
His expression falls, exhaustion filling the deep crevices along his face. I swallow, a little nervous and confused about his interjection. I haven’t seen him the entire time I’ve been in here so Trent coming to my rescue feels like suspicious timing.
Trent steps up to the side of the table, undoing the chain. “I run a tight ship for the most part, keep my officers in line when I can. The moment I’m pulled away, though, it seems that all the wrong people start putting their fingers in my goddamn pot. I tasked Ward with keeping an eye on you and told him to alert me if Hudson entered the station.”
That doesn’t explain the treatment I’ve endured the past few days. I’m unsure if I want to push or just get the call I’ve been asking for. “You couldn’t have come a moment sooner,” I say, a bitter edge to my words.
Trent nods, stepping away from me. “This isn’t the only precinct in the area and I thought I could trust my detectives to work without me breathing down their necks. However, it seems that I was wrong. That’s on me, not that you’ll forgive me for it. Tell me, where is Luca?”
My brows furrow at the question as I wonder if Trent is stupid enough to think I’d answer that. We both know Luca is at home with my mates or at least safe with my mates, but I won’t admit to it without Maceo at my side.
"You pissed off the wrong set of people, Keller." His words are careful as if he already knows I won’t like where this is going. "The judges looking at your case aren’t interested in the evidence. They want to lock you away, no hearing, no defense, just gone.”
"That doesn’t surprise me. Hudson’s been working overtime, hasn’t he?" It makes sense that he would try to sweep his wrongdoings under the rug by throwing me in the limelight. My question is why he’s trying so damn hard. Why it matters so much to him that he stays out of jail and retrieves Luca.
"He’s pulling every string he can find. Not just you, either. He’s trying to gut your credibility, bury your family, your entire pack. From what I’ve seen, he’s got his hands in more pockets than I can count."
None of it should shock me. Hudson plays dirty. He doesn’t just fight to win—he fights to destroy. But hearing it out loud, knowing this isn’t just about Luca anymore, that Hudson is trying to burn down everything in my life? That makes my blood boil.
I don’t say anything as Trent leads me back through the dimly lit hallway and to my cell. He doesn’t speak again until the bars are sliding across the opening, once again locking me in. "You need someone to look at your face?"
I shake my head out of instinct, and immediately, regret spikes through me like a knife to the skull. "Fuck," I mutter, hissing through my teeth. I breathe through it, forcing the pain down, and exhale slowly. "I just need to get home. Something isn’t right. I need to speak with my lawyer." The words taste wrong in my mouth, like admitting them out loud makes it worse.
“I’ll call him when I get back to my desk.” Trent leans closer, pressing his hands against the bars. "I’m working on your bail, but it’s going to be an obnoxious number. And there are going to be stipulations. Don’t look at me like that, Luther. None of our regular judges even wanted to sign off on it. This investigation is ten levels of complicated."
"What kind of stipulations?"
Trent’s hesitation has me on edge. I sit forward, waiting for the blow and not realizing just how horrible it’s going to be. He clears his throat as he drags a hand down his face. “If you’re released, you won’t be allowed in the same house as Luca until the investigation is closed."
"That’s my fucking Omega." I breathe through the pain in my head, focusing on Trent, wondering if he’s telling me a damn joke. If I have to rent one of the apartments on the other floors or stay at a hotel, I will.
"I’m between a rock and a hard place, Keller. I don’t have a lot of choices. I can see your mind working out all the possibilities and I’m going to tell you right now that none of those are plausible. The system seeks to protect Omegas in its own twisted way while trying not to rip families apart. You’d be allowed to go home but Luca would be taken to the Omega Center or returned to his parents.”
Trent has to be fucking lying because one of those options will have Luca spiraling in a place he’s not used to. The other will have him right back in Hudson’s arms. After learning that Luca’s parents all but sold him to Hudson, I refuse to let those bastards anywhere near him.
The chief taps the bars and leaves me alone to my thoughts, the pain, strained bonds, and the absolute chaos of the reality that just dropped into my lap. But this is exactly what Hudson wants—to disorient, to pull us apart, to make it harder to protect Luca.
And it comes back to the question why? Why is it so damn important to have Luca?