Page 15 of The Runaway

But the second thing that surprised him was that Antoine had asked Niles to leave, while apparently allowing Gabriel to stay. Was it because Gabriel had threatened to leave if they didn’t help Connor? Was it so important to Antoine whether or not Gabriel stayed that he thought Gabriel should witness this conversation? Or was it more to do with age and experience? Gabriel was twenty-seven, to Niles’s nineteen years, and his service in the military had exposed him to far more of life than a teenager living on a remote farm.

But whatever the answer might be, now was not the time to ask.

Once Niles and Lucas had left, Connor sat down on the edge of the sofa, seeming ready to bolt at any moment. Dante sat on the other end of the sofa, though he remained attentive and upright, as befitted his station as omega.

“Are you feeling better? You’ve had something to eat?” Antoine asked.

Connor nodded, not lifting his eyes off the floor. “Yes, sir.”

“And do you have any other injuries that need attention?”

“No, sir.” The question was designed to put Connor at ease. It went without saying that Dante would have been thorough in his treatment of any wounds, but to ask the question showed that the alphas cared about Connor’s health.

“All right, then. It would help us immensely if you could tell us more about the estate where you live. Particularly about why you ran away. I know you don’t want to tell us exactly where you’re from, and I respect that for now. But anything else you can tell us would be appreciated.”

“It’s a sheep farm,” Connor said, in a halting voice. “It’s owned by three alphas. Three brothers. I ran away because…” His lip quivered. “Because they beat another omega to death. She didn’t do anything wrong. She just tripped and spilled some food on the master of the house. But he was angry because he said she’d ruined his shirt. So he dragged her out into the courtyard and said he’d make an example of her for the rest of us. He made us watch. He hit her with an iron rod until she stopped moving. I ran away because I didn’t want to be next.”

Gabriel gripped the arm of the sofa.The alpha brought the strap down across the omega woman’s back. She screamed in pain, but he lifted the strap and hit her again. “You think you can fucking well desert the army? You think you have the right to choose anything?”

Breathe in… two… three. And out… two… three. The room settled about him, and his hand loosened its grip on the chair.

Antoine cleared his throat. “Have they ever killed any of their other omegas?”

“No,” Connor said. “Not since I was there, at least. The omegas don’t talk about what happened before that.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Five years.”

“And for the time that you’ve lived there, how have they treated you?”

Connor’s eyes flickered up to Antoine’s face, then hastily lowered again. “I don’t know how to answer that question, sir.”

“It’s considered poor behaviour to speak ill of one’s master,” Dante said, and Gabriel reminded himself to read between the lines. Antoine would have known that already, of course, so the point Dante was making was that questions about Connor’s opinion on the subject were not likely to be fruitful.

But there was a chance he would answer direct, factual questions instead. Particularly if those questions only required a yes or no answer. But what exactly could Gabriel ask that would get them the information they needed? In the army, even omegas who had been treated horrendously had been extremely tight lipped about their situations.

“Are you hungry?” Gabriel asked, taking a sideways approach.

“Yes, sir,” Connor said. The honest reply was actually a surprise, but a good sign with regard to further questioning. Seeing the young man’s body tremble was making Gabriel’s gut churn. He hated dragging Connor through this. But if they were to make any sensible decisions, it was an unfortunate necessity.

“Are you often hungry back on your estate?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and even.

“Yes, sir.”

“How often are you fed?”

“Once a day. Most days.”

“As in some days you get more, or some days you don’t get anything at all?”

“Some days we don’t get anything.”

Gabriel glanced up at Antoine. The man’s jaw was clenched and he seemed to be keeping a very tight leash on his emotions. But he nodded to Gabriel, so he continued.

“How often are you mated?” he asked Connor.

Connor hesitated. “As often as the master requires it.”