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The thumping against my head and the cramped space suddenly make sense.
I was in the trunk of a car.
Oh no.
I start to hyperventilate, the chain rattling as I double over and gasp for air.
Landon and River were right, and I sent them away.
Omegas have been disappearing, and now I’m another one.
Just like April.
But before I can process it, the sound of a key in a lock clicks, and I stand frozen in horror as the door opens.
It takes me a moment to recognize my captor. Dressed in faded jeans and a white t-shirt, he stands in the doorway, his gaze solemn as I gape at him.
“You?” I whisper, my hands shaking as I take in the Alpha before me. I back away from him, but he doesn’t follow me.
I’ve only seen him as a customer once, unable to decide what he wanted to buy. He was the one who lingered too long, taking every ounce of my patience as I fought not to bang my head against the counter.
He said he was picking out macaron flavors for his Omega.
This happened the day April disappeared.
He gives a slight nod as he leans in the doorway, his expression stoic. His murky brown eyes are devoid of light as he regards me, almost as if he’s in a trance.
I take another step back until I’m pressed up against the wall, breathing in the stale air. His scent swirls along with it, that same faint cologne I recognize from that fateful day.
I’m terrified.
I know what can happen if I’m too close to him. If his scent affects me, he could trigger my Heat.
I would be alone, captive in this dingy room as I soil myself with slick.
I gasp in fear as he takes a step closer, and I push my hands out, hoping to block him. His scent fills my lungs again, this time stronger and…
Artificial.
My body doesn’t respond. Nothing happens.
He smells pleasant, slightly warm and musky, but it’s fake.
This isn’t an Alpha in front of me.
“Stay away from me!” I shout, my voice booming in the small room. “Back away!”
He’s a Beta.
The knowledge empowers me even as he comes closer. He’s buff with corded forearms and thick biceps, but he’s not an Alpha.
And I’m going to kill him, I decide.
But not before I find out what he knows about April.
I brace for impact, fully expecting him to grab me or worse, but he only stands before me, his frame towering over me. His greasy black bangs fall into his eyes as he speaks.
“You will eat and drink,” he says, his voice monotone. “And you will keep your voice down.”
