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chapter
four
Before I walk into any room, I have to remind myself who I am and why I’m there.
Here, I’m Tristan Thorne, a senator and the man who plans to bring omega workplace rights into the twenty-first century.
At this moment, I’m also a man who’s about to be $50,000 poorer after bailing out this week’s group of omega-rights advocates.
It’s always amazed me how cruel and oppressive alphas can be toward omegas without a single hint of rebuke. But the second omegas start rallying to defend themselves or forge a new path forward? They’re radicals in need of quashing.
Incidents like this aren’t rare, unfortunately, but for the public defender to call me down here on a Sunday night? It must have been bad.
I’ve been in the back of the office for some time, my stomach grumbling while I fill out two dozen bail receipts. The sheriff explains that, since I’ve chosen to remain confidential, their office is legally obligated to take cash only.
I nod along and pull an envelope of money out of my jacket pocket, anxious to leave. I’m missing Sunday evening with my pack; and my instincts recoil from the energy in here tonight. Especially the way several of the unbonded officers have abruptly vanished. While the other half keep looking toward an interrogation room on the other side of the wide, cubical-filled floor.
I swear two of them even lick their lips.
My eyes narrow as I peer through the small window in the door of the office we’re in. Some indistinct urgency rears inside of me.
“What’s going on here?”
The sheriff winces—and adjusts the front of his pants. “Got an omega in off the streets,” he twangs in a Southern drawl. “Made half my officers go feral. Some sort of super-perfume, I reckon. You know I’m happily bonded myself, but… it is potent. So far, none of us have been able to go into the room. Our beta receptionist tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t say one single word. Needs someone to bark her into speaking, I suppose, but none of us can even go near her.”
The poor girl. She’s so traumatized that she can’t speak? And they’re just letting her sit in there?
I work to keep from growling. “Did she tell you where she came from? Maybe someone is looking for her.”
The sheriff rubs at the back of his head, wincing. “I suppose someone is. Hell, if I had an omega that smelled like that, I’d never let her out of my sight.”
Jackass.
Irritated, I sweep my papers into a tidy pile and fold them into my jacket pocket as I ask, “Well, did you contact her guardian?”
He grimaces. “That’s the thing. She can’t say much, but she managed to tell us she was being mistreated somehow. She looks just fine to me, but…”
If they call her last known guardian, they might be handing her back to an abuser on a silver platter. If there even is a guardian to call…
Christ. Do I have to do everything?
While these assholes are thinking with their dicks, I once again remind myself who I am. Why I’m here. What my purpose is.
Sighing, I fish a card out of my pocket and hand it to him. “This is my pack’s personal physician. Please contact him and let him know we have an abuse victim in need of medical attention. Use my name.”
His silver brows snap down. “How do you know she needs medical attention?”
I scowl. “Her perfume is abnormal, and she currently cannot speak. Sounds like a situation for a doctor if ever there was one. Contact Dr. Monroe, and I’ll go speak to her about who we can call to come get her.”
With a begrudging sniff, he takes the card. “I should warn you: the other alphas have been in a frenzy since she walked in here. Had to send half the force home before any of them snapped into a rut.”
We step onto the main floor and I freeze, trying to sense if there’s anything to be wary of. From across the room, given the amount of neutralizers they have filtering in here, I can’t scent her at all.
That’s standard for government buildings. The fact that the others even got a whiff long enough to be affected is odd. Luckily, my doctor friend is bonded. He should have no issues.
“Get Dr. Monroe,” I insist. “I can handle myself until he arrives.”
That’s the thing about being a senator. People listen to you. Do what you tell them. Assume you have your shit together.
