Page 64 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Chapter forty-seven

The Showdown

Orion

The first shot cracked like thunder.

Orion’s world narrowed to a knife-edge’s—the muzzle flash from Leo’s position, the spray of dirt where the bullet hit three feet to his left, the way Dante’s hand slammed into his shoulder, driving him toward the nearest boulder.

“Down!” Dante’s voice cut through the chaos, but Orion was already moving. Duck, weave, find cover, assess threats.

More gunfire erupted. Pop-pop-pop from the SVI side, the deeper crack of Gensyn rifles answering from the opposite ridge.

Orion pressed himself against the rock, breathing hard, his mind cataloging everything with vicious precision—the metallic tang of gun oil, the subtle changes in air pressure with each shot, the distinctive scents of fear and aggression from the corporate teams.

Fifteen shooters minimum. SVI has the high ground on the left, Gensyn controls the right slope.

Dante appeared beside him, rifle already in his hands, and checking the magazine. Blood streaked down his temple from where a flying rock caught him, but his expression was cold, calculating, deadly.

“Stay behind cover. Only shoot if they’re close enough to spit on.” Dante’s gray eyes locked onto his for one fierce second. “You do not play hero. You survive.”

Then he was gone, moving between points of cover with an unusual grace, already lining up his next shot.

Orion crouched behind the boulder, pistol gripped in both hands, trying to make sense of the battlefield.

The corporate teams were fighting each other as much as hunting him and Dante—SVI and Gensyn trading shots across the valley while both tried to maneuver for clean lines on their actual targets, like they were trying to make sure only one company got the victory.

He counted four Rangers down already, two Regulators motionless on the opposite slope.

Still at least nine active shooters remaining.

Smart. Let the corporate drones kill each other first.

A figure in SVI tactical gear broke from cover fifty yards out, sprinting toward their position. Orion tracked him through the sights, waiting. Thirty yards. Twenty. Close enough to see the man’s face, the hungry gleam in his eyes as he spotted Orion crouched behind the rock.

Close enough to spit on.

Orion squeezed the trigger.

The recoil jolted through his wrists. The runner stumbled, red blooming across his chest, and went down hard. Orion stared at the body for exactly two seconds—long enough to confirm the kill, not long enough to think about it .

“Nice shot!” Dante’s voice carried from somewhere to his left, followed by the sharp crack of his rifle. “Two down on the Gensyn side!”

But more were coming. Orion could see them moving through the scrub brush, using the chaos to advance. He detected the acrid smell of gunpowder, the metallic tang of blood, and underneath it all—

Leo’s scent. Getting closer.

Orion’s lips pulled back from his teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile. Let him come.

A burst of automatic fire stitched across the rocks above his head, forcing him lower. When he looked up, three SVI operatives were bounding toward him in coordinated rushes—one firing, two moving, military precision.

Shit.

“Dante!” He pointed toward the advancing team, and Dante’s rifle swung to track them. The lead operative’s head snapped back in a red mist, but the other two kept coming, splitting up to flank Orion’s position.

No choice. Orion broke from cover, running for the next cluster of boulders as bullets whined past his ears.

His heart hammered against his ribs, heat-flushed skin slick with sweat and adrenaline.

The lingering effects of his heat sent adrenaline surging through him, fear and rage sharpening his focus to a lethal edge. Ten yards to safety. Five.

Pain exploded across his shoulder as something clipped him, spinning him around. He hit the ground hard, rolling, coming up behind new cover with his pistol raised just as the second operative rounded the rocks.

Close range. Close enough to see the surprise in the man’s eyes when Orion put two rounds in them .

The third operative was already on him, rifle swinging down like a club. Orion threw himself sideways, the stock whistling past his head, and drove his elbow into the man’s kidney with everything he had. The operative grunted, stumbled, and Orion’s last bullet took him in the throat.

He crouched there panting, shoulder burning where the bullet had creased him, pistol still raised and ready. Three dead SVI operatives lay within arm’s reach. His hands weren’t shaking.

“Orion!” Dante’s voice, sharp with concern. “Status!”

“Still breathing!” he called back, checking his shoulder. Bleeding, but he’d live.

The gunfire was starting to die down—corporate operatives falling to Dante’s marksmanship and their own crossfire.

Orion did a quick count: three Rangers still moving on the left ridge, two Regulators on the right.

One of the Regulators was operating something that looked like a long-range spotting scope, staying well back from the main engagement.

A spotter for a sniper team? He filed the observation away, keeping his attention on more immediate threats.

Through the smoke and chaos, one scent kept getting stronger.

Leo. Close now. Very close.

Orion shifted position, scanning the rocky terrain until he spotted the familiar figure picking his way between the bodies. Leo looked like he had in SVI territory—rumpled clothes, desperate eyes, clutching a corporate-issue sidearm like it might save his pathetic life.

Their eyes met across twenty yards of bullet-scarred ground.

“Orion.” Leo’s voice cracked on his name. “Thank God. I’m here to take you home.”

Home. The word hit Orion like a physical blow. Rage flooded through him, hot and pure and murderous. This delusional piece of shit thought—thought—

“Home?” Orion stood up slowly, pistol hanging loose at his side. “You mean back to your apartment? Back to the chains and the beatings and your pathetic attempts to break me?”

Leo’s face crumpled with what might have been genuine pain. “That wasn’t me. That was the situation, the pressure—I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying to protect you from worse!”

“Protect me?” Orion’s voice dropped to a whisper that somehow spanned the distance between them. “You bought me like a fucking appliance.”

“Because I love you!” The words exploded out of Leo. “Because the second I saw your contract go up, your face, I knew—I knew if someone else got your contract, they’d destroy you. At least with me, you had a chance to—”

“To what?” Orion stepped out from behind the boulder, walking toward Leo with predatory calm. “To learn to enjoy it? To thank you for only beating me twice a week instead of every day?”

Leo raised his pistol with shaking hands. “Don’t—don’t come any closer. I can make this right. I can take you somewhere safe, somewhere a doctor can help you recover from whatever that Gensyn bastard did to your head.”

Orion kept walking. Twenty yards became fifteen. Became ten. He was acutely aware of Dante’s position in his peripheral vision, rifle trained on the remaining Regulators.

“You want to know what Dante did to my head?” His scent was changing, he could feel it—post-Triad pheromones carrying rage and lethal intent that made Leo’s face go white with instinctive fear. “He showed me what it felt like to choose.”

“That’s not choice, that’s manipulation!” Leo’s finger twitched toward the trigger. “He’s a corporate spy, Orion! He was sent to steal from SVI, and he stole you instead! You’re just another asset to him! ”

Five yards. Close enough to see the sweat beading on Leo’s forehead, the way his hands shook as he aimed center mass.

“Maybe,” Orion said. “But he’s really good at making me cum, so I’ll forgive him.”

Leo’s face twisted with betrayal and fury. His finger squeezed the trigger—

Click.

Orion smiled. It wasn’t a nice expression.

“Did you seriously think,” he said, advancing the last few steps, “that you could shoot me with your fucking safety still on?”

Leo threw the pistol at him and lunged.

Despite his desperate appearance, Leo was still an Alpha—bigger, heavier, with a year’s worth of rage fueling his assault. His shoulder caught Orion in the midsection, driving them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs and fury.

“You ungrateful little bitch!” Leo’s hands found Orion’s throat, squeezing. “I saved you! I protected you! And you threw it away for some Gensyn pretty boy who doesn’t give a shit about you!”

Stars exploded across Orion’s vision as Leo’s thumbs pressed into his windpipe. But a year of abuse taught him things that SVI’s Alphas always seemed to forget—an Omega could fight as dirty as they did.

He drove his knee up between Leo’s legs with vicious precision.

Leo’s grip loosened with a strangled howl, and Orion twisted free, gasping. But Leo recovered faster than expected, backhanding him across the face hard enough to snap his head to the side.

“You think that Gensyn bastard loves you?” Leo snarled, grabbing a fistful of Orion’s hair and yanking his head back. “You think he sees anything but another corporate asset to exploit?”

Blood filled Orion’s mouth. He spat it into Leo’s eyes .

“I think,” he rasped, “that he never tried to starve me into submission.”

Leo wiped blood from his face, expression shifting from murderous to something far worse. Hunger. Raw, desperate lust mixed with a year’s worth of frustrated possession.

“I was teaching you discipline! Structure!” His voice cracked with every word. “Everything you needed to be happy! To be safe!”

Orion’s fingers found a piece of shattered rock, but Leo saw the movement and slammed his forearm across Orion’s throat, cutting off his air. The rock tumbled from nerveless fingers as black spots danced across his vision.