Page 46

Xander

WITH MY HAND in hers and my wolf still casually hanging out in Little Fox’s Royal Grotto, I’m able to experience some of what is transpiring between her, Dunne, and their shifters. I feel my wolf’s pride in Little Fox practicing what he’s shared with her. He’s impressed by her innate ability to connect and sense what is needed and how to approach these mental situations. He also has been taking a keen interest in her setup, making notes while withstanding the urge to press a button or two, flip through the books in the back, and generally snoop. I faintly feel Alessandro and his fox’s presence in the background, being cautious and keeping distance. I check in with my own mental space, finding the brush of Jax’s and Ethan’s ghostlike presences in our link, too faint to even make a mental ripple, but they are there if needed.

I know Alessandro mentioned that royals are hardwired to help out all shifters, that they have an overwhelming need to do so. I interpreted his words as them feeling a sense of pleasure, like getting a hit of dopamine when doing something nice for another. I didn’t realize the severity of the instinct, the absorption of their fellow shifters’ pains and fears, or how the need to ease their pain, to help, can overtake them so completely.

Damn royal powers , I internally curse, repeating Ethan’s words, with a grind of my molars. I don’t have much time to piss and moan about it, as deep inhales are mixing in with Dunne’s hiccupping sobs from his curled-up position on the floor. Little Fox kept the details of their interaction private, but I know what she did. I know he allowed her inside, and she shared the emotions and experiences of the shifters in the other room. I can only guess at anything else based on what I’ve observed and my personal interaction with him thus far.

The way Bordeaux kept his hand on him—how Dunne seemed not only uncomfortable but disgruntled, and yet how he didn’t do anything to free himself from the unwanted touch—leads me to believe he’s got submissive traits, ones he’s internally battling. When stroked, when triggered, the fight against them is likely harder.

As soon as he was released from that dominant hold, he became more defiant, being rebelliously candid with us about his company’s dogged interest in my mate. Then there’s this emotional breakdown, which is so at odds with his persona as an analytical scientist. Makes me wonder if there are other reasons beyond him being a genius for coming out here at sixteen and never returning to his home pack until he was required to do so. He doesn’t seem evil or vindictive or driven by greed, so what is it that has him knowingly participating in experimenting on our kind?

“That’s it. Another couple of breaths,” Wilhelmina scratchily soothes, and Dunne nods, rubbing the side of his sweaty head on the concrete floor, taking several deep inhales, quelling the tremors that had taken over his body.

“Now,” Billie hoarsely says and then clears her throat. “I need you to pull your shit together and take us into that room. You will then fabricate any story needed in order to explain what happened here—or better yet, damage the footage.” She bends over him, her arm stretching backward to keep hold of my hand as she whispers, “You are worthy. You are an omega, and they need you. You will do for them what possibly no one else can. Be their voice, be their hope—be the man on the inside.”

Thankfully his eyes are still pressed tightly together, because the shock of him being an omega is too much for me to keep my face blank. How the fuck can an omega play a part in this? Even if there are no wolves being tested on, omegas in general have a need to care for others, to be the ear that listens when no one else will, to offer solace and comfort to those in need. In packs, they’ve been known to go into a trancelike state, following the silent cries or feelings of pain from another pack member, often sprinting as they get closer because they are our healers, emotional and physical. They may not be able to heal to the level an alpha can, but they can use their healing abilities on any wolf that will let them, while us alphas can only heal those divinely chosen to be our pack-mates and true-mates. They can lessen pain and speed up the healing process—plus they have an inborn understanding of herbal remedies, and have a green thumb, they’re very good with plants and gardening.

Through Wilhelmina’s link, I hear Alessandro. La Duchessa , he says, panting, clearly also having taken a beating from his connection to her. Do not go in there ,

he pleads. Not like this. Not unprepared. It will ... He swallows It will be hundreds of times worse than what you—we—just experienced. Get a visual. Look through a window if possible. But being in the same room with their leaking, damaged, wild energies... no one will survive.

Leaking. Damaged. Wild energies. What the fuck have they been doing to us? This seems worse than what Clyde and Randall experienced, and their accounts gave me nightmares for weeks.

“Can I see into the room without going in?” she asks Dunne.

Coming to a seated position and taking off his glasses, he pulls the blue pocket square from his jacket’s chest pocket and wipes the tears, sweat, drool, and snot from his pallid face. Refusing to release her hand, he blows his nose with one hand and then stuffs the cloth back into the pocket. Swiping his forearm over his forehead, he puts his glasses back on and numbly nods. “Yes, there’s an observation area from the...” He falters, sucking down a whimpering inhale. “The gestation and fertilization laboratory.”

And both foxes spiral into tornadoes of terror, leaving me and my wolf to rein in their whirling energies and settle their thoughts, getting them to focus on the task, to think of the battle plans. They may be royals, but they are not generals.

“Good, let’s go and make this succinct, to the point, and informative.” I snap. “We need to project a certain image. We need to keep ourselves under control.”

Dunne flinches from my harsh tone, and I internally wince. Inhaling a steadying breath and reminding myself to be the change, to be the leader who will seek first to understand, I offer him my free hand and say, “Take my hand, Lucas. Let me help you. Let us help you and together help those who are suffering.” He cranes his head back and scowls at my hand like it’s a snake ready to bite, one he’s met before and whose venom he’s still recovering from. “I am not him.”

His teeth bite into his trembling lip, and his eyes swing over to Billie. She lifts up our joined hands and rolls her eyes. “Dude, I haven’t let go of him since we got here, and I’m covered in his scent. If that’s not a stamp of approval, I don’t know what is.”

“I’d feel better if it were the other way around,” he lowly grumbles before slapping his clammy hand in mine.

I resist the urge to seek out his wolf. Instead, I merely haul him up to standing and groan. “I’m sure that’ll happen at some point. Just not for what we had planned today. Now tell me you can fix all of this.” My eyes scan the ceiling, finding the camera in the corner closest to the elevator, the lens aimed at the double doors ahead of us.

“Yeah,” he exhales, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand, making no effort to let go, and I feel his wolf, his omega, dying for connection, for affection. So, I let him keep holding on, but there’s no way I’m letting my wolf connect with his in this state. “I’ll be able to explain it. There’s no sound on the feed, so it will just be the visuals, and I believe based on the angle, most of what happened occurred off-screen. This is a high-security area, but it takes so many measures just to get down here and then into the adjoining rooms that this was an afterthought.” The corners of his eyes draw down as he gazes at Wilhelmina. “They... um... they expected some sort of reaction... from... from you.” He tries to tear his hands from both of our grips. I let go. Wilhelmina holds firm.

He frowns at her. Raising her brows, she lightly sniggers, “Not gonna happen buddy. You gotta stop cutting yourself off because you don’t want to feel a connection to those affected by your decisions and actions. You’re going to start owning your shit, even if I have to hold your hand while you do.”

A grumbling groan gets caught in his throat while his lips twist into a pursing pout. He jams his free hand into his jacket pocket and tersely says, “Based on data they have from other labs, from the early studies done in Ireland with... um... royals—”

“Oh fuck!” Billie blurts out with wide, shocked eyes. “Holy shit, you just conducted your first experiment on me, didn’t you?”

I whirl my head around to face him. Pulsing dark rage blackens out the edges of my vision, tunneling in on him. Billie gives my hand two squeezes and a thumb rub, calming me down. Through our link, she recalls Jax’s words: Big smelly fart, remember? I don’t say anything. I merely send her an image of Little Fox calling for a blitzkrieg of royal power in her Royal Grotto, followed by an image of a pot and a kettle, both black. She giggles somewhat manically while bobbing her head in irrefutable agreement.

With a clearer head and vision, I return my focus to Dunne. Hot shame flushes his skin red from his hairline to below his collar, and his brows crease while he says, “It wasn’t an experi—” His eyes glow amber, and his words are cut off by his own shout of pain. Tearing his hand from his pocket, he slaps it over his chest.

“Haha!” Billie cackles. “He’s free! Free to feel. And now so are you. No more rationalizing, no more skewing the truth. No more cherry-picking data points to evaluate. No more seeing in only black and white. Sorry, Lucas, you get all the colors now.”

“Fuck,” he cries out.

“Yeah, emotions, man,” she sarcastically trills, swaying their clasped hands back and forth. “They’re something, huh? So, um, let’s try that again. You knew they expected a reaction from me. How curious were you in testing that theory?” Though she’s laughing and smiling, it’s all a little off, like she’s close to mentally cracking. My stomach tightens, knowing that not just tonight but this battle, this war, is far from over. And the target on her back keeps fucking growing.

Dunne forces himself to stare at her. Veins bulge in his throat and at his temples. His eyes remain glowing, his wolf not letting him retreat. Through gritted teeth, he bitterly spits out, “Very curious.” That admission, though hard, seems like a relief. His shoulders round, and he sucks down several gulping breaths. “I warned against it before,” he pleads. Showing the whites of his eyes, he speedily adds, “Before, when we saw you with Xander on the way up. I suggested we shouldn’t visit this wing, that it could be problematic. But”—he scowls, and his lips purse— “Bordeaux called Fallon.”

We have documentation on Dr. Fallon, we know he’s been in charge for a while, having worked for the company in Ireland before moving over here. He’s the one we think informed my father about Wilhelmina, the reason her family was targeted after having escaped, we assume, a similar attempt in Ireland. Wilhelmina’s hand goes cold in my grasp. I flutter my fingers and caress her knuckles with my thumb, sending a little warm alpha energy into her.

“Fallon insisted,” Lucas snarls. “He insisted it be done for confirmation.” His gaze goes far away, and he slaps his chest several times, proclaiming, “I asked, ‘If there is no reaction, would it change our interest in obtaining the specimen?’” Unaware, he’s once again putting labels on living beings in order to make them less than who they are. He just called my mate a fucking specimen. He rolls his eyes. “He said no. So I said, ‘Why do it now? What does it matter if it won’t change our interest?’” He waves a dismissive hand. “When opportunity presents itself, we need to act, is what I was told. Bordeaux backed him up, which is why I was surprised by his offer to accompany you earlier. I objected again, stating it might not be wise; we didn’t know exactly what would happen. The data from before was imprecise and unsubstantiated since no shifters were part of the scientific research team at the time. But they threatened me.” He rakes his fingers through his greasy hair and cries, “If I didn’t, I’d lose husbandry rights for a month! I wouldn’t be able to check in on them to help where I can. I can’t connect with all of them like I can with the wolves, but I know they’re hurting. I offer comfort. I bring them additional food and attention. I never... Last time they barred me, three... three of them died.”

I step up to him my taller stature, putting his head at my chin. He slowly tips his head back to meet my scathing glare. “You knowingly put my mate in a situation that caused her immense suffering, a situation where her reaction will make them even more desperate to put her in a cage. The same cage they tried to put her in fourteen years ago when they killed her parents. You’ve been actively helping humans experiment on our kind, making yourself feel better about it by what?” I scoff. “Giving them treats and blankets?” Arching a brow and gritting my teeth, I sneer. “Did freeing them ever cross your mind? Did you ever think about reaching out to the High Council, getting them involved?” He flinches and looks away like he just got slapped. “I guess that’s your answer.”

I fist my free hand, wanting to slam it into his face. Wilhelmina strokes the back of my hand and brings it to her lips. Gently, lovingly, she places several lingering kisses on each of my knuckles. She pulls my eyes to hers and then guides my gaze to her other hand, the one still holding his. I snap my jaw shut and take a deep inhale through my nose. “I trust my mate. I trust her fox. So there must be something redeemable within you—something that still gives her hope. Maybe it’s your wolf, his omega qualities. I’ve met the alpha of your home pack, a man who holds many of the same characteristics as my late father, but stronger, more...” I pause and bite out, “Alpha.” A shudder ripples through his body, and his gaze glazes over—a glaze I know too well. “I know, but we don’t have time for all this today. We need to continue this fucking tour and maybe, if we can without blowing shit up, attend a fundraising event where we’ll be dining with these... people . Those who want to cut her open, run tests on her, and keep her in a cage. But I will tell you one thing, Dunne, right here, right now: You have the chance for redemption. You have the chance to be on the side of shifters, to show care for those being tortured more than giving them food and blankets. You can be an omega and not just a scientist. So tell me—”

“I want to help... I will help,” he gusts out with wide pleading eyes.

“Then you better put on an Oscar-worthy performance and be really good at discreetly sharing information. If anything happens to my mate because of all this, I will come after you. My betas will come after you. If you’d listened to your wolf, if you reached out with what you knew earlier, we may not be in this situation.”

“I understand,” he dutifully replies with a dip of his chin.

“I really hope you do,” I seethe. “Now let’s get the rest of this tour over with.”