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He gave up everything to get me out of there and try to give me a safe life. Now, I have love and a pack who protect, rather than hurt me.
Yet my brother is still under the control of Dad, as Head Alpha of the Snakes.
The dank basement is awash with the soured scent of my pheromones.
“How nice of you to drop in for a social visit,” Thomas drawls. “You don’t have an invitation, however, and as much as I enjoy bondage (if it’s done consensually), I’m rather busy to be tied up right now.”
I stare at Thomas.
Did he seriously just say that to my dad?
To a mobster boss?
His enemy?
Yep, he did.
Thomas has balls.
Vito gives a startled laugh. “Dad likes to drop in unannounced and fuck up your day.”
Thomas’ own defiance seems to have helped Vito.
Vito struggles to pant through the pain of our sisters’ hold, defiantly tilting up his chin.
I fucking admire both these men.
I wipe the tears from my own eyes and copy them.
Whatever happens, I won’t whimper and hide in the face of Dad’s bullying anymore.
He’s terrorized me for too long.
Dad swaggers across the basement toward Thomas.
Dad is dressed in a navy suit with a wide belt, which has a snake’s fanged head as a buckle. He looks immaculate compared to Thomas and Vito. He holds his pistol loosely in one hand, while running the other through his severe gunmetal gray hair.
“It’s good to know that you like bondage because so do I.” Dad rubs his thick beard. “Your consent isn’t needed, cub. Things are run differently in the Snakes. We’re predators, and I take what I want. Right now, all I want is a fatherly talk with my disobedient kids. You’re the waste of a knot who bonded with my Omega daughter without asking my permission.”
I stiffen, when Dad leans over Thomas.
No…
Dad patronizingly slaps Thomas lightly on the cheek.
Thomas’ expression blanks but he doesn’t flinch. “I asked her permission. Anyway, I didn’t think that you believed in consent…? And I’m a predator too.”
My eyes widen.
Nobody talks to Dad like that.
Dad’s blue eyes narrow, before with a speed bred of familiarity, he twists his gun in his hand and uses the barrel to pistol-whip Thomas.
I scream at the crack, as it splits Thomas’ cheek.
Shit, has it broken his cheekbone?
Thomas, however, doesn’t make more than a low grunt, as his head is thrown to the side.
