Page 69 of The Sterling Acquisition

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “Dante was right about your asset management techniques. You really are spectacularly incompetent.”

Then they were gone, leaving Leo alone with four dead guards and one very dead researcher.

Dante allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as they headed for the stairwell. The mission was complete—Project Tether was destroyed, the research was secured, and Orion was free.

And he is yours. Don’t forget that part.

Now they just had to make it to the extraction point without getting killed by SVI security forces.

Should be simple enough. After all, how hard could it be to escape from an entire corporate territory while carrying a beautiful Omega in heat?

Chapter twenty-three

Team Building

Orion

Thealleybehindtheapartment building stank of garbage and industrial runoff, but Orion had never been more grateful for the familiar scent of urban decay. It cut through the fever-haze clouding his thoughts and gave him something to focus on besides the fire burning through his veins.

Morrison’s injection triggered what his body was already preparing for—his heat hitting with full intensity. But his mind felt sharper, the way it always did when survival depended on staying ahead of Alphas who could smell him coming.

Dante was moving with predatory efficiency, his eyes scanning the narrow alley for threats. Blood had dried on his shirt from the apartment fight, and he favored his left side where the guard caught him with the stun weapon. But he was still lethal, still dangerous, still the kind of Alpha that made Orion’s heat-sensitized nerves sing with unwanted awareness.

“Extraction point is ten blocks northeast,” Dante said. “Near the docks”

Orion nodded, then had to grip the brick wall as a wave of heat-induced dizziness washed over him. This was how it always started—the fever climbing, his heart hammering against his ribs, the scent of his own pheromones so strong he could taste them in the air. Years of navigating SVI territory during heats taught him to work with the symptoms instead of fighting them.

Focus. You know these streets better than anyone. You know how to disappear when Alphas come hunting.

“Ten b-blocks through active p-patrol zones,” Orion stammered. He tried to ignore the embarrassment of the unfortunate verbal tic that developed with his heats in the last year. “During a territory emergency lockdown. With m-me broadcasting pheromones like a f-fucking beacon.”

Dante’s nostrils flared, and Orion caught the way his pupils dilated as he processed the scent. Even through whatever suppressants the Alpha was using, Orion’s heat was affecting him. It always did—that was the problem with being unclaimed. His heats had been getting stronger every cycle, more intense, harder to hide from.

Another complication. But you’ve handled worse.

“We’ll manage,” Dante said, but his voice carried a tension that hadn’t been there before. “Corporate protocols are predictable. We avoid main thoroughfares, stick to industrial areas, move fast and quiet.”

“Corporate p-protocols,” Orion repeated, fighting back a laugh that would have been more hysteria than humor. “Because you know SVI t-territory so well.”

He pushed away from the wall, testing his balance. The heat was making everything hypersensitive—the brush of his clothes against hisskin, the way the morning air felt too cool and too warm simultaneously, the way Dante’s scent was cutting through his own pheromone chaos like a blade.

Move. Before you do something stupid.

They made it three blocks before Orion heard the sound that made his blood freeze—the low rumble of SVI security vehicles moving in coordinated patterns through the residential district.

“Shit,” he whispered, grabbing Dante’s arm and pulling him into the narrow space between two buildings. “They’re doing a st-street sweep.”

The space was barely wide enough for both of them, their bodies pressed together in the shadows as the sound of engines grew louder. Orion could feel the heat radiating from Dante’s skin, could hear the way the Alpha’s breathing had changed from controlled to something more primal.

This is a problem. This is the same problem you’ve had for years.

“How long?” Dante asked, his voice a low rasp.

“Two minutes. M-maybe three.” Orion pressed his back against the brick wall, trying to put as much distance as possible between them in the confined space. “They’ll sweep the main streets first, then d-double back through the alleys.”

He’d learned SVI patrol patterns the hard way—years of slipping through shadows during heats, avoiding Alphas who worked in the same factory as him, finding hiding spots that stayed safe even when his scent was at its strongest. The heat made him vulnerable, but it had also taught him to be invisible.

Dante nodded, but his eyes fixed on Orion’s throat. The Alpha’s scent was changing too, taking on that musk of black tea and cherry.