Page 59 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

Autry

Dolly’s head is warm beneath my hand, her soft ears twitching every now and then as I absentmindedly stroke her. She lets out a little sigh, nuzzling deeper into my thigh like she knows I need the comfort more than she does.

I try to focus on the book in my lap—it’s light and easy, the kind of story I’d normally devour in a day—but the words blur. I’ve been on the same page for fifteen minutes. Maybe longer.

It’s stupid. Everything is good. I’m safe. I’m loved. I’m warm.

And yet, I can’t shake the ache in my chest.

My eyes wander to the window, to the faint shimmer of early afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. It’s peaceful in here. Quiet and familiar. It should feel perfect. But it doesn’t.

All I can think about is the Morder. About the shot they gave me to delay my heat. They told me it would last a week. Maybe two .

They lied.

It’s been five or six weeks now, and my temperature has remained steady. I haven’t even had a single cramp.

I’m not panicking, not really. A heat can be tied to so many things—safety, stability, hormones. And then there’s Charlie. His transition, the changes in his scent, and the way our dynamics have been shifting could have thrown my body off. Or maybe it’s stress. New home. New pack. New everything.

But I’m restless. I want to be marked and mated.

And not just by Rhett—though the thought of his teeth in my skin makes me dizzy—but by Oli too. Gentle, sexy Oli, who watches me like I’m made of stars. The idea of both their scents buried in my neck, permanent and claiming, makes my heart race.

I close my book and sigh, dragging my fingers down Dolly’s spine. She stretches, yawns, and settles again.

The doorbell rings, and Dolly and I both flinch.

Not because I’m scared—exactly—but because Rhett isn’t home.

He left hours ago, dressed in that sharp black jacket he only wears for serious things.

Today’s the day. The sale of his company is final.

Weeks of back and forth, calls at all hours, lawyers and contracts, and meetings, and after today, it’s all done.

Everyone keeps saying how fast it’s gone and how lucky he is. But he says he doesn’t feel lucky. Not until it’s done.

The doorbell chimes again, and footsteps echo down the hallway—Myrick. Good . I was worried. Rhett was very clear about me and Charlie not going near the front door unless the building was on fire.

Myrick opens the door, and I twist around on the couch to see who it is. It’s the alpha from the party. The older one with the big barrel chest and the even bigger booming voice. I think his name was Donall.

The alpha’s scent hits the air as he stands outside the door—strong, sharp, too much. It makes my stomach tighten.

“Is Rhett home?” he asks casually, like this is a friendly drop-in.

Myrick’s stance shifts subtly, enough to put a little more space between Donall and the interior of the house. “He’s at his lawyer’s office,” the beta replies coolly. “Finalizing the sale.”

Donall raises his eyebrows as if impressed, though his expression doesn’t quite look genuine. “That’s record speed,” he says. “Didn’t think he’d actually pull it off that fast.”

Myrick doesn’t respond. He waits for the alpha to say what his business is.

But Donall takes his time, glancing past Myrick and into the house. I duck down so only my eyes peek over the edge of the couch.

“Is your other alpha home?” Donall asks.

My stomach tightens, feeling like this isn’t good. I don’t know why, but this alpha feels…off.

Myrick takes half a step back. “Yeah,” His tone lifts as if not fully trusting Donall either. “I’ll go get him.” Myrick disappears down the hall, and I silently pray that Charlie has the good sense to stay in his room. The last thing we need is for someone to find out that two omegas live here.

Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, I sit completely still, barely breathing, one hand resting protectively on Dolly’s back.

Everything is fine.

I’m fine.

We’re all safe .

But something stirs within me, uneasy. I stare at Donall’s silhouette through the sliver of the open door. What does he want? The alpha doesn’t even know Oli. What on earth could be so important that he wants to talk to someone other than Rhett?

Donall shifts from one foot to the other, letting out a loud huff. Then his eyes catch mine, and he freezes. All at once, his gaze sharpens like a blade, and his back straightens, long and tight.

Without a word, without an invitation, Donall barges right into the apartment.

What the fuck?

My breath catches and my body stiffens as Donall crosses the threshold like the rules of basic human decency don’t apply to him. As if Rhett’s absence somehow opens the door wide to his entitlement.

Donall marches straight to me, bold as ever, his heavy boots booming against the hardwood of the entryway before stepping down into the living room.

Into my space.

I panic.

There’s nowhere to go. I’m squished in the center of the couch, Dolly still dozing in my lap, unaware. I glance toward the hallway, willing someone— anyone —to reappear. But I don’t call out. I can’t.

My body won’t move. My body’s stuck frozen.

Donall stops a few feet away from the couch. His eyes narrow and his head tilts, studying me like I’m some kind of riddle. “What was your name again?” he asks, voice smooth, but with an edge I don’t like. “Autry, right?”

I swallow and my lips part. “Yes, sir,” I whisper.

His smile twitches, like he’s pleased with himself. “Thought so.” He inches to one side, edging around the room to the far side of the couch, like a predator circling something soft. “How’ve you been?” he asks. “Settling in okay?”

I nod, letting my hair fall forward to shield my neck. I don’t want him to know that I haven’t been marked yet. That I’m vulnerable .

Donall chuckles softly and his fingers flex. “You know,” he points right at me, “your face has been stuck in my head for weeks now.”

My stomach drops.

He looks familiar to me, too. I noticed it at the party. Something in the shape of his jaw and the sound of his voice. I couldn’t place it then. And I still can’t.

“I kept asking myself how I knew you,” Donall says, still moving around the room.

Dolly finally lifts her head. She doesn't growl—just watches, confused. “I thought to myself, did I see her at another event? Maybe in passing? Or were you a cousin of one of my mate’s friends?” He pauses, now standing on the other side of the coffee table.

The narrow strip of reclaimed wood is the only thing that separates us.

My blood rushes in my ears, making my eyes water. Help! But the words won’t actually leave my mouth.

“But then, late last night,” Donall says, voice quiet now, intimate in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I was lying in bed, thinking about it. And suddenly…it hit me.” His dark eyes widen like it was a lovely surprise. “And I knew exactly where I saw you.”

Before I utter a word, a sharp voice cuts through the silence.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Myrick .

The beta strides into the room fast, his eyes locking onto Donall—then flickering to me. The shock on his face shifts into something harder. Anger. He moves like he’s ready to put himself between us, shoulders tense, posture all alpha instinct.

Donall barely flinches.

“Relax, beta.” Donall’s hands lift slightly as if he’s innocently been caught mid-conversation at a dinner party. “I was chatting Autry up,” he says smoothly, like we’re old friends. Like this is normal .

Myrick’s jaw flexes. “You’re too close to our omega,” he snaps, stepping up to the back of the couch. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his body. It helps. A little. “Rhett wouldn’t like you inside while he’s away. He’d be a lot happier if you waited in the entryway.”

For the first time, Donall’s smile slips into something colder. He laughs once, a soft sound that feels more like a warning than amusement. “That may be,” he says, eyes still on me, “but Rhett’s not here.”

I flinch.

My heart’s hammering so hard I can feel it in my ears.

Footsteps thud down the hallway—fast and heavy—and then Oli appears. His chest is bare, still damp with sweat, with a towel tossed over his shoulder. He slows the moment he sees Donall, but the heat in his eyes shifts instantly from curiosity to threat.

“Who are you?” Oli asks, voice calm but full of steel.

Donall turns toward him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “My name is Donall Tyson. I’m a member of the local Enforcement Agency.”

That title slices through the room like a blade.

And Oli goes still.

Not the casual kind of still. Not relaxed. This is the kind of still that comes before a fight. Every muscle in the young alpha’s body tenses, and I see the flicker in his eyes as his instincts surge forward.

“What do you want?” Oli growls.

Donall’s smile returns, sharper this time. “I wanted to visit with Autumn .”

The name hits me like a punch to the gut. My breath halts. My stomach turns to stone.

He knows.

He knows.

I can’t breathe.

My lungs seize and the world goes fuzzy around the edges. I try to pull in air, but it’s like there’s nothing there. The pressure in my chest spikes, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

He knows .

Myrick pauses, confused. “Who’s Autumn?” His tone is short, confused, but not scared— not yet . “Our omega’s name is Autry.”

Donall turns to look at me again, gaze pinning me in place like a knife through glass. “Oh, no,” he says with a smirk. “It’s not.” He tilts his head. “Is it, Autumn ?”

The room spins.

And I curl forward, arms wrapping tight around my knees. Dolly jumps up, then begins barking. My breath comes in short, gasping pulls that don’t fill my lungs. My vision tunnels and all I can hear is my name— my real name —echoing inside my head like a threat.

I want to scream.

But I can’t even make a sound.

Then I hear a heavy boot take a single step forward.

There’s the quietest shift of weight on the floorboards, and my instincts latch onto it like a live wire.

Oli’s growl rips through the air .

Low, guttural, feral .

“Get the fuck out!” Myrick yells, voice trembling with rage now. I can’t see them—I can’t see anything—but I can feel the energy in the room spike, sharp and dangerous, like lightning striking too close to the house.

Myrick’s hands are on me, pulling me back as he covers my body with his.

Donall’s voice barks through the chaos, loud and final, “Be ready, Autumn! I’m coming back for you!”

Autumn.

That name again. Like acid down my spine.

I squeeze my eyes shut so tight it hurts. I want to disappear. I want to scream. I want to be anyone else .

There’s a scuffle, the sound of bodies moving, of someone being pushed—maybe slammed—back toward the door. Dolly is barking even louder now, wild and protective, her little body half-covering mine like she thinks she can take on the world if she has to.

And before the door slams?—

Just before I think I might actually pass out?—

Donall shouts one last thing.

“You need to be more worried about the fucking mass murderer in your living room!”

SLAM.

Silence.

I recoil like I’ve been stabbed.

The quiet that follows is worse. More suffocating.

Oli’s footsteps come fast, thudding across the floor, and then his hands are on me—gentle, grounding. Where did Myrick go?

“Autry.” Oli’s voice is thick with concern, but I can’t focus on his face. Everything is hazy. “Breathe. Sweetheart, I need you to breathe. ”

Myrick’s pacing somewhere, muttering curses and threats under his breath, furious and shaken. I can smell Charlie's fear in the room now, too. He says something, but I can barely hear any of them.

Because all I can hear is that name.

Autumn .

Mass murderer.

Autumn.

Murderer…murderer…murderer.

And I know the moment is coming?—

I’m going to have to tell my pack who I really am. And what I’ve done.

It’s time to pay for my sins.