Page 8

Chapter Eight

Shaw

M y chest vibrates with a ragged purr as Saylor snuggles closer. She’s obviously beat. She spent half the night being violently ill and the other half getting fucked by a violent, rabid alpha. She still smells heavily of Valor, despite her quick rinse off. I can’t tell if it’s because her scent changed drastically due to their bonding or if it’s still remnants from all the sex.

Leo leans against my shoulder, running his fingers through Saylor’s hair. He sighs and whispers, “I think she knocked out. Do you want me to carry her to one of the beds?”

I shake my head.

Fuck no.

I’d keep her sexy little ass plastered to me at all times if I could.

Omen and Valor will be done in the bathroom anytime, and having her in my lap is a good way to keep me from hopping up and starting shit. I won’t be able to take a swing at her newly bonded alpha without waking her. Hopefully it’ll help me maintain my manners because everything in me wants to fuck that guy up. There are bruises on Saylor’s throat and wrists. If I got a peek under the shirt, I’m positive I’d find even more.

The bathroom door opens, and the two men exit as I breathe through my fury.

“Shh, she fell asleep,” Leo says, keeping his voice down.

I don’t take my gaze off Saylor. She’s so fucking beautiful, my heart pounds when I study her for any amount of time.

But now she’s bonded to those two, meaning the four of us need to find some common ground…ASAP.

* * *

Valor and Omen carry over chairs, sitting across from the couch.

“Aww, you three look cozy. If they hadn’t nicked my phone, I’d take a picture,” Omen says, chuckling softly.

“Valor,” the alpha grunts, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

“Shaw.” I hike a thumb toward Leo, but it’s under the blanket. Hopefully he gets the idea. “That’s my partner, Leo.”

“How much do you know about Amato?” he asks, getting right to business.

“Enough,” I murmur, trying to hold back the bitterness that aches to escape.

“We know a little about his operation, and Saylor filled us in on your concerns relating to what will happen once you’re released,” Leo says, keeping his voice low to avoid waking the omega in question. “She asked us to kill him as her courting gift.”

Omen snorts obnoxiously loud and freezes.

I tilt my head down to check her face, but she’s still asleep.

He elbows Valor and nods to the sleeping beauty. “She also gave me a pep talk about offing Amato. She’s just out here, trying to turn us all into murderers.”

The giant alpha at his side scoffs. “Like we need any help with that.”

“Our boss is our benefactor, but as you know, his only goal in putting us in here was to ensure we could get Saylor out,” Leo says, running his fingers through her hair. “Ridge works with us regularly, and he’s who will take possession of us once we’re released.”

“He knows priority number one is getting Saylor back to the States,” I add. “Assuming they release us together, he’ll pick up the tone. You don’t have to worry about that. I’d trust him with my life.” Running my hand down Saylor’s back, I study Valor’s dark eyes. “More than that, I’d trust him with hers.”

“Well, it sounds like you should get to biting, gents.” Omen nods toward the sleeping omega. “Amato isn’t known for his patience. I’ll be genuinely fucking surprised if he waits five days to retrieve us. He doesn’t give a fuck what the facility has to say.”

“No.” My head shakes of its own volition. “I’m not rushing that. It’s too important.”

Valor raises an eyebrow. “Then, you plan to rot in here while we take care of our old boss and simultaneously try to keep Saylor safe from him?”

“No,” I say simply.

A plan sizzles at the back of my consciousness, but truthfully, it’s a last resort kind of option. It would take Leo and me away from Saylor again , which is the last fucking thing I want. It could also be a good way to grovel and to prove how committed we are to keeping her safe, but it’s a gamble.

She seems open to forgiving us, and I want that more than anything. I just can’t stand the thought of us bonding and her realizing after the fact that everything was rushed because of our circumstances. I need her to genuinely forgive us before I sink my teeth in.

“Does anyone happen to know what country we’re in?” Leo asks, breaking the silence.

“Not a fecking clue,” Omen says, sounding especially Irish. “They don’t let anyone in on the exact location of the facility. Before we came in, it was one of the things Amato was bitching about. They collected us from London. We were drugged, but I vaguely recall our layover. It was a tiny airport. Everyone was speaking German. Come to think of it, I don’t know if they ever put us on a second plane.” He shrugs. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“They took Saylor from Amsterdam,” Valor adds, humming contemplatively. “If they were purposely searching for matches for me, I would assume they’d start close to the facility and work their way out.”

“What now?” I ask, trying not to wake Saylor.

Valor sighs heavily, going on to explain everything McCabe passed along to them on the trip back to the cell. “…and it makes sense. I’ve been around scent matches before. Even had one or two pass through A block. Smelling her changed everything. I never knew lightning was a scent people could come in.”

“Wait.” Leo sits up and leans even farther toward the two men. “What did you just say?”

“She mentioned my scent smelled the same way to her.” Valor shrugs. “She could even scent it through my bond with Omen. She told me about it while we talked that day after she was ill from the suppressants.”

“That scent—lightning—there’s an old wives’ tale about it,” Leo says. “My grandparents talked about it when I was little. They said that particular scent is reserved for soul matches. It’s one step up from a scent match…” He goes on to explain that soul matches have almost a magnetic attraction. They’re most comfortable when they’re in close proximity and can touch the other person.

It sounds a whole lot like the concept of a soulmate, and the idea that he’s hers chaps my ass.

My teeth grind together, but at least there’s some reasoning for her immediate attraction to them.

“Jesus,” Omen says with wide eyes. “That makes so much sense. I truly thought you’d disregard her, as you’d done to all the omegas.”

“Like I could ignore her.” Valor laughs. It’s a low, throaty sound that seems to signal his fondness for Saylor. “She bossed her way right into our room, smacked me for being rude when I growled at her, and had not an ounce of fear at being locked in with the two of us.”

Omen and Leo join in, laughing.

My head tilts until I can see her face, and I find myself smiling. That does sound like something she would do, at least the bossy bits and calling someone out for their bad behavior. She’s always had a very clear sense of right and wrong and a strong need for justice.

“This might be a shitty time to mention it, but I’ve no idea how I’ll follow her to the United States,” Omen says, frowning. “Neither of us have our IDs—not that mine is real—let alone a passport.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“My birth date, time, and weight were an unfortunate coincidence, that when combined with my hair…” The beta shrugs. “To say my mother wanted nothing to do with me would be putting it mildly. It took years of searching, but she eventually located my father in London. She wasted no time in dumping me with him. I was eleven. I’m sure I had to have had a passport at some point. Or perhaps not. I have very few memories of how she got me into England. After she abandoned me, I was mostly raised by the dancers in my father’s club. I have a birth certificate somewhere, but my father was little help, and I was in London with no formal documentation, which meant no driver’s license. No driver’s license meant no passport. I have fakes, of course, but they’re provided by Amato.”

“Jesus,” I say, frowning. “Just another way he’s got you by the balls.”

“Indeed,” Omen says with a nonchalance to his tone that I don’t buy.

“It might take a few days, but we can help with that,” Leo says, finally sitting back against the couch.

Well, it might not be much, but we have a tentative peace agreement.

I’m just not sure how Saylor will take my idea for how Leo and I get out of here without bonding. The thing is, it’s possible it would be the safest option. We have no way to get a message to Ridge to prepare him for the release meeting. I wasn’t lying when I said he’s excellent at adapting, but that still doesn’t mean I want to gamble when Saylor’s life is on the line.

The worst part of all would be having to ask McCabe for another favor. Oh, and being away from Saylor again for God knows how long.

I really fucking hate this place.