Page 37

Emmie

The private jet touches down with a jarring bump that sends my stomach lurching. Through the small window, I can see snow-capped mountains rising like jagged teeth against the darkening sky.

It hours laters and now we’re in Aspen, Colorado. I've never been here before, but the landscape feels ominous, isolated—the perfect place for someone to disappear forever.

Jude? I reach out through our mental connection, that eternal thread that's become my lifeline. We've landed. It's so remote here, mountains are everywhere .

I'm here, love. His mental voice wraps around me like a warm embrace. Tell me everything you see.

The aircraft door opens with a hydraulic hiss, and the frigid mountain air rushes in, sharp with the scent of pine and snow.

I wrap my arms around myself as Blake's men motion for me to move, using their weapons.

Small airfield, I relay to Jude as we descend the stairs. Maybe four or five hangars. There's a black SUV waiting, engine running. Two more men by the vehicle.

I've probably counted twelve men up to now.

The concrete beneath my feet is slick with ice, and I nearly stumble as they escort me toward the waiting car.

One of Blake's men steadies me with a grip that straddles between painful and helpful.

Enough to keep me upright, yet tight enough to remind me I'm not going anywhere.

Getting in the car now, I tell Jude, sliding across leather seats that smell like expensive cologne and underlying menace. Blake is sitting across from me. He keeps staring.

Blake does keep staring, his deep blue eyes cataloging me like I'm the livestock he's considering purchasing. When he finally speaks, his voice carries the same false warmth I remember from childhood—the tone he used right before delivering punishment.

"You've grown into quite the beautiful young woman, Emmie. Your mother did well with you. I'll give her that."

I turn to stare out the window, focusing on the passing landscape instead of acknowledging him. Pine trees flash by in the headlights, their branches heavy with snow. The road winds upward, climbing steadily into the mountains.

"Don't ignore me, darling." Blake's voice carries a warning edge now. "You'll show me the respect I deserve as your guardian."

"I've never respected you," I say without looking away from the window. "And I never will."

The silence that follows is loaded with violence as his anger radiates across the small space. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing fear.

"You know," he says conversationally, "I remember when you first came to live with me. Fourteen years old, all defiant eyes and protective instincts toward your sisters. You thought you could keep them safe from me."

My hands clench into balls at the mention of my sisters. "You sold them. Like cattle."

"I found them appropriate matches with men who could provide for them properly. That's what good guardians do." His smile is sharp enough to cut. "Though I must admit, I had such high hopes for all three of you. Such beautiful, intelligent girls with excellent genetic profiles."

The car takes a sharp turn, headlights sweeping across a wall of rock on one side and a steep drop-off on the other. We're climbing higher, moving deeper into the wilderness where my screams will only echo off the snow-capped mountains.

Still in the car, I tell Jude, trying to keep my mental voice steady. Winding mountain road, very isolated. No other vehicles, no lights except what we're making.

How long have you been driving?

Maybe ten minutes? We're climbing steadily.

Blake leans forward suddenly, reaching out to grip my chin with fingers that press just hard enough to bruise. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

I meet his eyes, letting him see the hatred burning there. "What do you want me to say? That I'm grateful? That I'm happy to see you?"

"I want you to understand your purpose." His grip tightens slightly. "You're going to give me what I need, Emmie. Beautiful, intelligent children who I hope will carry your genes. You can scent match to everyone, yet nobody. Once claimed, you'll be able to feel every emotion I have.”

That’s how this started with Jude. I bit his lip and bonded us together. My heart hammers against my rib cage.

He continues, “I need to make sure that your DNA is passed to our children. The tests will begin tomorrow."

The casual way he discusses using me like a breeding animal makes my stomach turn. But it's his next words that truly break my heart.

"But do not disappoint me. I choose you. And I hope I chose more wisely with you than I did with your sister. It seems Lottie turned out to be quite the disappointment."

"What do you mean?" The words escape before I can stop them.

Blake's smile turns genuinely cruel. "A dud, I'm afraid. Barren. What a poor excuse for an Omega she turned out to be. All that investment, all those careful genetic considerations, and she can't even fulfill her most basic biological function."

Lottie. My sister's name echoes through my mind like a prayer and a curse. The sister who called to warn me, who risked her own safety to give me information about Blake's plans. The sister who's been living knowing that she's considered worthless by the man who controls her life.

"You're lying," I whisper, but I can see the truth in his satisfied expression.

"One year of trying, four heats and multiple medical consultations, every fertility treatment money can buy. Nothing." He releases my chin with a dismissive flick. "At least Carlos is understanding about it. Some men might demand a refund."

The casual cruelty of his words makes something break inside my chest. Lottie, my sweet, gentle sister, reduced to a failed transaction in Blake's ledger.

My beautiful twin sister. The one who used to braid my hair and tell me stories.

The one who always tried to shield me from the worst of his attention is now living with the daily reminder that she's considered defective.

Emmie? Jude's mental voice carries concern. Your emotions just spiked. What's happening?

I can't answer immediately, too overwhelmed by grief and rage on behalf of my sister. The unfairness of it all—that any woman should be judged by her fertility, that Lottie should suffer for something completely beyond her control.

The car begins to slow, headlights illuminating what looks like a massive log structure ahead. Through my tears, I can make out the details of Blake's mountain retreat.

We're arriving, I finally tell Jude. Large log cabin, maybe three stories. There's smoke coming from the chimney. Very isolated—I can see higher mountains on the far side of the house, but nothing else. No other buildings, no neighbors. It took less than fifteen minutes from the airstrip.

Good. Was the sun behind or in front of you when driving from the airstrip?

It was ahead for most of the way. But now it is lowering behind me.

Good. Keep giving me details. We're mobilizing now.

The car stops in a circular driveway, gravel crunching under the tires.

Motion-sensor lights flood the area, revealing the full scope of Blake's "retirement property.

" It's not just a cabin—it's a fortress.

High tinted windows, heavy doors, probably equipped with every security measure money can buy.

"Home sweet home," Blake says with genuine pleasure. "What do you think, darling? I had it built with you specifically in mind."

I stare at the structure that's clearly designed to be my prison, fighting down the panic that threatens to overwhelm me.

Getting out of the car now. The house is enormous , definitely designed for security. Multiple levels, lots of windows, but they're all high up. Heavy front door, probably reinforced.

Blake's men flank me as I get out of the car and approach the entrance, their presence making it clear that running isn't an option. Not that there would be anywhere to run to in this wilderness.

"You're being awfully quiet," Blake observes as we reach the front door. "Not planning anything foolish, I hope?"

I force myself to meet his gaze directly. "Like what? I'm not that special, Blake. I'm just scared and trying to process everything."

The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize I've made a mistake. Blake's eyes narrow, studying my face with renewed interest.

"But you know you're special," he repeats slowly. "Why would you say that?"

My heart hammers against my ribs, but I force myself to look confused. "Because I don't believe I am."

Blake stares at me for a long moment, then seems to dismiss his suspicions. "Once your tests start, we'll know just how special you are. If as an Aurora Omega you can speak to me telepathically."

He chews his lip for a moment and I think for a moment he is considering I already know I can. So when the front door opens to reveal an interior that's simultaneously beautiful and terrifying, I gasp. "This is lovely."

It is.

He smiles, liking my opinion, it seems. I hope it was enough to pacify him. I glance around the room. At the exposed wooden beams, stone fireplaces, and expensive furnishings. Everything creates the illusion of rustic luxury while serving as an elegant cage.

"Let me show you to your room," Blake says, placing a proprietary hand on my lower back. "I think you'll find it quite comfortable."

He leads me up a sweeping staircase to the second floor, then down a hallway lined with what look like guest rooms. At the end of the hall, he opens double doors to reveal a space that takes my breath away.

The room is enormous, dominated by a massive four-poster bed draped in rich fabrics.

But it's the spiral staircase in the corner that draws my attention—it leads up to what appears to be a reading loft with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the mountains.

"I designed this space especially for you," Blake says with genuine pride. "The loft has a complete library—I remembered how much you enjoyed reading as a child. I thought you might appreciate having a quiet space to retreat to."

The thoughtfulness of it makes my skin crawl. He's trying to create the perfect gilded cage, complete with amenities, to keep me docile and grateful. It feels very Beauty and the Beast, but I'll definitely not fall in love with him.

I do like the reading space but the bedroom is far too big.

In my room, I tell Jude silently. It's like something from a luxury hotel, but clearly designed to keep me here long-term. He's trying to make it appealing.

We're coming, Jude promises. Just hold on a little longer.

"I'd like to be alone for a while," I tell Blake, exhaustion seeping into my voice. "To process everything that's happened."

"Of course, darling. Rest is important." He moves toward the door, then pauses. "Dinner will be at eight. I'm having your favorite prepared—do you still love pasta carbonara?"

The fact that he remembers such a specific detail from my childhood makes my stomach turn. "Yes," I lie.

"Wonderful. I'll see you then."

The door closes behind him with a soft click, and I hear the unmistakable sound of a lock engaging.

I'm alone in my beautiful prison, surrounded by luxury and utterly trapped. I sink onto the edge of the massive bed, finally allowing myself to feel the full weight of my situation. The soft mattress and expensive linens feel like what they are—comfort designed to make captivity bearable.

Jude? I reach out desperately. He's locked me in.

We know where you are now. Beck has people mobilizing. It won't be much longer.

The promise helps, but I can't shake the feeling that Blake is planning something immediately. He didn't bring me all this way just to let me settle in comfortably.

Footsteps in the hallway confirm my fears. The lock disengages, and Blake enters without knocking, his expression thoughtful.

"You know," he says conversationally, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier about not being special. When you know you're an Aurora Omega. And only Aurora Omega's have the ability to speak telepathically."

My blood turns to ice. "Blake—"

"It was odd for you to say that. Almost like you were trying to deflect from something real." He moves closer, his eyes never leaving my face. "Tell me, Emmie—can you speak telepathically?"

"That's ridiculous," I say, but I can hear the tremor in my own voice. "You're being paranoid."

"Am I?" He reaches out to stroke my cheek with false gentleness. "Because if you could do something like that, it would explain how certain people always seemed to know things they shouldn't. For instance. The reason why your mother finally believed you."

I jerk away from his touch. "You're losing your mind if you think—"

The slap comes without warning, sharp enough to snap my head sideways and bring tears to my eyes. The taste of blood fills my mouth. I spit it onto the pristine floor.

"Don't lie to me," Blake hisses. "I can always tell when you're lying. You have the same look you've had since you were fourteen—that little flutter in your left eyelid."

Jude, I call out silently, panic flooding through our bond. He knows. He knows about my telepathy.

Stay calm. We're almost there.

Blake studies my face intently, watching for some sign of mental communication. When I don't immediately respond, his expression grows suspicious.

"You're doing it right now, aren't you? Talking to someone." His voice drops to a whisper. "Who is it, Emmie? Who did you call?"

"No one," I insist, but we both know he doesn't believe me.

Blake leaves the room without another word, and I hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. But he's back within minutes, carrying something that makes my heart stop. A syringe filled with clear liquid.

"No," I breathe, scrambling backward on the bed. "Blake, please. Not that."

"You need to sleep for a while," he says with false sympathy. "Just until I can be certain you're not causing trouble."

Jude! I scream through our mental connection as Blake approaches the bed. He's going to drug me. He has a syringe—

We're coming! Just hold on—

Blake lunges forward, catching my arm before I can escape. I fight with everything I have, clawing at his face, trying to break free. But he's stronger, and his men have clearly taught him how to restrain efficiently.

There's a prick first and then the needle slides into my neck. Bile rises in my throat when I feel the drug beginning to work. My limbs grow heavy, and my vision blurs at the edges.

"There's a good girl," Blake murmurs as darkness creeps in from all sides. "Sweet dreams, darling. When you wake up, we'll begin your new life properly."

Jude, I manage one last mental whisper as consciousness slips away. I love you. I love all of you. Find me.

But blackness swallows me whole.