by L. C. Davis
It had been two years since Duke had first seen the infamous Cutter while visiting the Mountain Ridge prison on behalf of the Tribunal. Duke had been the natural choice for the task since the TTF headquarters were still located within the walls of Mountain Ridge, the newest pack to enter the Council. Mountain Ridge had been the Federation's number one enemy less than a decade earlier, and Lana made no secret of the fact that she liked keeping an eye on Mitchell. It was also a practical location since most of their recruits came from the Mountain Ridge barracks. Mitchell had waged war against the Council with his army in the past, and it was an unspoken truth that everyone was better off with him as an ally. That was the only reason the Tribunal tolerated Mitchell's insistence on keeping the most ruthless criminal mastermind in such cushy conditions. Duke had walked into that prison as curious as any other wolf might have been, never expecting that one visit would turn his world upside down.
At least, it could have. If he had been weak, and if Cutter had been a normal omega. There were few alphas who could resist the siren's call of an omega they had imprinted on, and while there had been no doubt in Duke's mind that Cutter was his destined mate from the moment he laid eyes on the omega, he had spent the last two years doing what most considered impossible. Granted, it helped that it was literally impossible to get to the omega through Mountain Ridge's maximum security measures and that what Cutter lacked in stature, he more than made up for in malice, but it still would have been an impressive feat to anyone he dared to tell.
Of course, keeping the secret to himself was the only way he could guarantee that the rest of his life would be lived out in peace. Cutter was a prisoner and even if Duke had the desire to open the can of worms that would come with claiming his mate, he knew there was a damn good chance it would put him up against the very organization he had sworn to serve. Then there was the fact that Cutter was a psychopathic monster whose intoxicating blue eyes belied a heart blacker than any rogue alpha Duke had ever taken out on a mission.
There were challenges that came with denying a mate bond, but the fact that Cutter was kept in near isolation in just about the safest location on the planet--both for him and from him--eased Duke's instinctive need to know where his mate was at all times. The omega was well cared for, too. It grated at Duke just how much he cared when Cutter himself had been the catalyst behind a good deal of the chaos the alpha had spent his career fighting against. Keeping himself occupied with work had once been a given, but now it was a necessity.
"I've got an unusual assignment for your team," Lana said, folding her hands on the table. "For you, specifically."
"Yes, ma'am." Whatever it was, it wouldn't faze him. Duke's ability to be shocked had been seared away somewhere between the first time he'd pulled a child from rubble and the night he had been forced to end his friend's suffering on the battlefield. It was both a blessing and a curse that nothing got to him anymore, and for years, nothing had. Good or bad, it didn't matter. The same numbness that kept him from feeling the depths of joy and laughter he'd once known in his idyllic youth also made it possible for him to do his job without breaking like so many of the alphas he fought alongside had.
"I'm sure you're aware of the recent Council meeting regarding the feral omega situation?"
Duke frowned. "I didn't know that was what we were calling it officially."
Lana smiled, folding her glasses on her desk. "There's no need for euphemisms around here. Besides, the Council wolves are already thoroughly panicked."
"What else is new?"
The beta's mouth set into a line. Duke had worked with her long enough to know that meant she was trying not to laugh--a rare occurrence, to be sure. "In any case, there's more pressure on Mitchell to address the rumors surrounding Connor than ever."
"Connor," Duke snorted. "Now there's a euphemism."
"Mitchell has come to a rather interesting solution that puts the Tribunal in an even more interesting position," she went on. "He's going to integrate Connor into the pack."
"He's what?"
"That was my reaction at first, and while I still think part of the reason Mitchell is doing this is to thumb his nose at his detractors, it does kill two birds with one stone."
"There's gonna be a whole lot more killing than that if they turn Cutter loose."
She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "He's collared and tranquilized, and while I can't say I'm happy about the idea of him running loose, he is an omega."
"He's a psychopath."
"Be that as it may, the Tribunal holds no authority over a pack alpha where an omega's punishment is concerned. It's a legal gray area, if only because it's not one we ever thought we'd have to address."
"We take omegas out of alphas' hands all the time! Why is this any different?"
"Rescuing an omega from an abusive situation is different from locking one up for his entire life. You know that."
Duke gritted his teeth. He did know, that was the worst of it. Cutter had his sympathizers, bleeding hearts who thought all omegas were good and gentle at heart. That the best remedy for Cutter's psychosis was the love and nurturing he'd been deprived of in the admittedly horrific life he'd led before becoming twisted into the monster he was.
Duke understood that line of thought, if only because his cousin and his parents subscribed to it, but there was a problem with that logic that the privileged Council wolves could never understand. Duke had bathed in the blood of too many monsters to delude himself into thinking they all started out evil. Most didn't. Somewhere along the way, most people had to experience trauma to become twisted enough to cause it, but if they gave a second chance to every criminal and psychopath in the world who had a tragic past, where would it end? We're their abusers to be given a free pass in turn if they'd been victims once as well?
On some level, Duke knew he wasn't capable of being truly objective when it came to Cutter, but that was all the more reason he had to be discriminating. If he allowed himself to indulge in sympathy where the omega was concerned, it certainly wouldn't end there. The only thing he would allow himself to feel for Cutter was indifference, and even that presented its challenges.
Lana was watching him closely, suspiciously. "Is there something you'd like to say, Commander?"
"No," he said, pulling the tendrils of his anger back into himself.
"Good. I'm not asking for your opinion on the matter. The fact is, it doesn't matter any more than mine does. Mitchell is within his rights to do what he's going to do, but I'm within mine to monitor the process."
"Process?"
"Cutter's release is contingent upon him being marked by an alpha," she replied calmly, like the words coming out of her mouth made any damn sense. No matter how Duke spliced them, they didn't.
"Come again?"
"People have accused Mitchell of lying about Cutter still being in his pack. By bringing him out in the open, he's putting those rumors to rest."
"Okay, but what the hell does that have to do with him being marked by an alpha?"
"That's where the interesting part comes in. People are scared of Cutter, they're scared of the unknown. Mitchell says he's under control, but if he's marked, he really will be."
Duke froze and stilled his breathing to fight the furious snarl that wanted to erupt from his chest. In the two years he'd been resisting his claim on his mate, on the omega who haunted his dreams even though they had never even met face to face, he had never come as close to blowing his cover as he was then.
And then what? Best case scenario, he'd be pressured to claim an omega he understood as little as he knew. An omega who hated alphas even more than the other omegas he'd sold and traded at auction without a care. What kind of future could they possibly have that wouldn't be toxic for both of them? Worst case, he would be immediately removed from his position on the TTF for keeping such information from the Tribunal.
No, nothing good could come of stepping forward to make his claim like every cell in his body and every instinct laced
in his soul was screaming for him to do. Even worse than the idea of mating an omega he couldn't stand or ending the career that gave him purpose was the thought of another alpha's teeth at Cutter's neck. Another man's mark on his omega.
The thought itself was going to drive him off the cliff of madness if he didn't find a way to get control, to empty his mind the way his teachers had thought him.
Breathe, Duke. Just breathe.
"Are you alright?" This time it was concern lacing Lana's suspicion rather than judgment.
"Fine," he gritted out. "This is bullshit, but I'm fine."
"Whether I agree or not, it's out of our hands," she said, sliding a thick yellow folder across her desk. "But not out of sight."
Duke frowned, opening the folder to flip through page after page of profiles on no less than sixty alphas from all over the country, some even from overseas. If he hadn't recognized a few of them as alphas he'd gone to summer camp with and knew for a fact were good, upstanding men, he would have assumed they were criminal profiles. "What are these?"
"Dating profiles," Lana said in her signature monotone. "More or less."
"Please tell me you're kidding."
"Mitchell put out the call for interested suitors yesterday morning and the response has been...considerable."
"All of these idiots are interested in mating Cutter?" Duke had been questioning his sanity ever since he'd walked into Lana's office, but he was beginning to think it was everyone else in the world who'd lost their damn minds.
"The idiots have been vetted already. Those are the serious contenders."
Duke's lip curled back in a snarl as he eyed the stack of his competition with new malice. "I'd love to see what kind of creative liberty Mitchell took with Cutter's personal ad."
"Oh, they all know what they're getting into. You'd be surprised what an ambitious alpha is willing to do for the promise of his own unit within the Mountain Ridge Pack."
"You're fucking kidding me."
"He is the Alpha's surrogate brother-in-law. To be fair, it's not a half-bad way to pick a new Alpha for the Southeast Unit."
"How do you figure that?"
Lana smirked. "Any wolf willing to bed Cutter is either fearless or foolish enough to be a Mountain Ridge Alpha."
Duke chuffed out a pitiful substitute for a laugh to keep up appearances, but the mere mention of anyone touching Cutter was enough to set him on a killing spree. "What's my role in all this?"
"There's a gala being held next week to let the chosen alphas meet their prospective omega. I want you to attend and report back to me. Give me your assessment of the alphas Mitchell seems to be considering. Maybe we can find a way to sway this to our advantage."
"Yeah, sure. Just one problem."
"Hm?"
"What's the dress code for a deranged omega's coming out party?"
Lana shook her head with a tired smile. "That I don't know, but they say you can never go wrong with a nice black suit."
As Duke left the beta's office, he decided maybe it was time to revisit the idea of that killing spree. At least then he and Cutter would be a halfway decent match.
Chapter Four
CONNOR
"I hate them all."
Mel looked up from the vegetables he was chopping on a thick wooden block on the counter while his mate, Toval, attended to the pot of stew simmering on the stove. The beta squinted in deep focus as he eyed the spices on the rack by the stove and gradually added in an obsessively considered blend, seemingly tuned out to the conversation going on between his mate and brother-in-law.
"You said any alpha will do," Mel said pointedly. "They were all screened by Mitchell and Hassan, you can't hate them all."
"And yet I do," Connor said, leafing through the pages before flinging the folder aside.
Mel rolled his eyes and wiped his hands off on a tea towel before rifling through the file. "You're being dramatic. Look, what about him?"
Connor glanced down at the file on Jason Muller, a dark-haired alpha from Wales whose accomplishments in life included holding a political office in human government and owning his own small island. "Boring, spoiled rich kid with an accent. I'll shoot myself in the face before I spend the rest of my days listening to that." He pressed a hand to his temple and grimaced. "Just listening to Mitchell gives me a headache."
Mel sighed, flipping through a few more files. "Okay, even you can't complain about this one. He's handsome and brilliant."
Connor boredly glanced at the alpha whose resume boasted everything from a master's degree in chemistry to experience as the project coordinator of the Federation's own research division. "Dweeb," he said with a yawn.
"He is not!"
Toval leaned in to peer over his mate's shoulder. "Eh, he's right, babe. The guy kind of does look like a dweeb."
Mel shot him a dirty look. "Not helping."
Toval just grinned and went back to his roast.
Connor gave the other omega a "See?" look.
"Fine," Mel said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "If the boring dweebs aren't satisfactory, what is it you're looking for?"
Connor was considering his answer when the apartment door opened and in walked Hassan. The alpha looked exhausted, which was fitting since he'd been in the Northeast unit on special assignment ever since Connor's release the day before.
Connor held his breath, admittedly curious as to how Hassan would react to seeing him out and about. They had been on civil terms ever since he had given Hassan the information he needed to save Mel's life years earlier, but Connor had also been the one to endanger it and he knew that it was far easier to be civil to an enemy behind bars than one in your living room.
Both Lucida and Jasper were away at summer camp with Mitchell and Angel's children, which Connor was certain had played a factor in the alpha's willingness to agree to his temporary relocation. Even so, an alpha's instincts when it came to protecting his omega--in Hassan's case, an omega and a beta--could make even the most levelheaded men react instinctively.
Hassan locked eyes on Connor for a moment before his mouth relaxed into a faint smile.
"Connor. Good to see you in my kitchen rather than my prison," he said, shrugging out of his jacket.
"It's still a prison, isn't it?" Connor tapped the metal collar around his neck and found that he didn't bristle quite as much at the sight of his own flesh and blood running into an alpha's arms as he once had.
"I suppose that depends on whether you make it one," Hassan replied without a hint of sarcasm. Connor snorted and looked away as the alpha leaned down to kiss his mate. He glanced up at Toval, curious as to whether the beta would reveal any sign of the jealousy he must surely feel. After all, no matter how many years passed, he had laid claim to Mel's heart long before Hassan's mark appeared on his neck and the alpha would always be the one who had intruded upon their domestic bliss.
Rather than the pursed lips or thinly veiled irritation Connor expected to find, the beta's eyes lit up and his smile widened without any pretense as he turned to the approaching alpha.
"Perfect timing, I need a taste tester who doesn't think a pack of noodles in a plastic cup qualifies as a meal," he said, holding a big wooden tester spoon to Hassan's lips.
The alpha paused, as if carefully considering the concoction he'd just tasted before pulling an arm around Toval's waist and kissing him hard. The beta melted against the alpha and the spoon dangled precariously from his fingers as he returned the kiss. When Hassan finally pulled away, he licked his lips, still looking intently at the ones he had just sucked the life out of. "Delectable, as always. The soup is delicious, too."
Toval's face was a deep shade of crimson and he groped the counter as if he needed the support. "Well, maybe just a dash of pepper," he mumbled. Connor's eyes widened as he caught sight of the mark on the beta's neck just underneath his collar, which had been displaced in the alpha's embrace. So Hassan had marked both of them...sly bastard.
Mel met Connor's startle
d gaze with a knowing smirk, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. The other omega was fond of saying, "I told you so," but he'd never managed so overtly without words before.
Connor blew a puff of air through his nose and popped a carrot into his mouth.
"What are you working on?" Hassan asked, draping an arm over Mel's shoulder as he eyed the file.
"Shopping for Connor's mate, and he's making it impossible," said Mel.
Connor stuck his tongue out at his brother. "Tattletale."
"You don't approve of our selections?" Hassan's knowing tone and the twinkle in his warm eyes made it clear it wasn't a complaint that came as any surprise.
"No," Connor said, sitting up a little straighter. "I could find corpses less in a funeral home that are less stiff than they are."
"No offense, but the idea is to find someone who can keep you in line, not someone to become your partner in crime," said Hassan. "If you especially liked any of them from the outset, Mitchell would be concerned and so would I, if we're being honest."
Connor rolled his eyes. "Fine, but if I die of boredom, it's your fault."
"It will be difficult, but I'm sure I'll find a way to keep going with that burden on my conscience," the alpha said without missing a beat. "Just see how you feel when you meet them. A single page doesn't tell you enough about someone to know whether they would be a suitable mate."
"No?" Connor asked innocently. "From what I remember, a few stats at an auction was enough for you to decide on Mel."
Rather than the explosion of anger any other alpha would have responded with, Hassan laughed. "Oh no, my mind was made up well before that," he said, covering the omega's hand in his with an adoring gaze that Mel returned along with a small, dopey smile.
Connor somehow resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was enough to make a man lose his appetite.
"You can pretend all you want, but I know what this is really all about underneath that mask of cynicism," Toval said in a grave tone as he placed the last dish on the counter. Connor froze as the beta leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. "You're just nervous because you'll have to dance."
