Page 119 of Torment Me Knot
They throw me into the chair and cuff me in. The steel bites my wrists exactly where it did on the train. The door closes. The lock engages.
I sit in the silence and I breathe and I run the numbers. Five floors down. One lift. One corridor. One door. The malesare modified somehow. Alpha but wrong, their chemical scent stinging my eyes. My cheek throbs. The sedative is leaving my system.
I bolt upright when the door opens and a blond male steps into the room. I know exactly who this is.
I don't need him to introduce himself. I have had his face on my desk for months. A thin file. An old passport photo that didn't capture him right, and two surveillance grabs from after he went to ground. It was never a face I could look at for long without wanting to put my fist through the paper.
Ethan Wallace. The man I have been hunting since the night I pulled my omega off his IV lines, barefoot and shaking, his chemical signature wrecked through her gardenia.
He's thirty-six, maybe. His blond hair is combed so precisely it doesn't look like hair. His eyes are pale blue and they track across my face. He wears a tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled twice, and a watch that costs more than my car.
I've pulled against the steel, imagining my hands around his neck. All that happens is new blood where the metal bites me. The chair doesn't move and I wrench my shoulder.
His brows lift. “I see you recognize me.”
Yeah, it's all about you, asshole.
“If looks could kill.” He drags a second metal chair across the floor with his foot. He sits across from me and crosses one ankle over the other knee. “Seraphine Vidal. You're a hard female to catch.”
His voice is warmer than I expected. Pleasant. Academic.
“You took down two of my alpha. They don't go down easily.”
“They went down easy enough.”
“Bravo.” He says it without warmth, the way you'd note a good result in a trial. “People who fight back give me better data. Cooperation tells me very little.”
He leans back, eyes locked on me. “Do you know why you're here, Ms. Vidal?”
I'm here because you're a dead male walking. I'm here because you're a degenerate who harms the vulnerable.
I press my tongue flat against the roof of my mouth and don't speak.
“You think you came to rescue omegas.” He tilts his head. “To be the hero. To matter. Do you know what happens when a population becomes biologically unstable, Ms. Vidal? Civilizations collapse. Wars begin over reproductive viability. I’m not creating monsters. I’m trying to prevent extinction.”
“The old railway network is standard enough.” I keep my voice flat. “But this level is interesting. How deep does it go?”
His jaw moves half a millimeter. “Very good, Ms. Vidal. You're running fast for someone on that much sedative.”
He turns his wrist, studies the back of his own hand.
“The city decommissioned this network in the eighties and sealed the access points. What they didn't do, rather carelessly in my view, was check whether anyone else had already found the other way in. All we had to do was dig deeper in a system that was already mapped out. We're completely invisible from the surface. No satellite, no radio, no GPS. You could stand in the right field, above the right ceiling, and not know we were five floors down.” He leans forward. “You won't be found unless I want you to be found.”
I keep my face flat. Don't give him anything.
He huffs. “You're the Head of Omega Affairs for Silverpine County.”
“You know about me?”
“I know your intervention programs. Your Outreach Squad. Your case closure rates. The fact that you're a rare female alpha.”
His words land behind my sternum. “Then you'll know people will be coming for me.”
His smile widens, showing even white teeth. “Oh, I'm counting on that. In particular, your scent-matched omegas.”
“You will not touch them!” I struggle against the metal. My skin rips but I pay it no heed. I'll rip his head off. I'll gut him and wrap his intestines around his neck. I'll—
He laughs. It's the first real laugh he's given me, small and amused. “You are a delight.”
