Page 4 of Mercy & Her Devils

Fletcher sees himself as a healer, saving packs from the horror of needing to permanently reject or auction their Omegas.

Worse, break their bonds.

He’s responsible for running the Institute, which is for Omegas that don’t live up to society’s standards.

He told me proudly that our neighbors sent their college aged son for last summer’s boot camp, then laughed, saying that he came back a changed Omega.

Apparently, our neighbors can’t stop recommending Fletcher’s methods to their friends.

Methods that trains Omegas, just like the Alpha Center does for Alphas.

Plus, any Omega who fully breaks society’s rules is marked as a Rej.

There are two reasons to be marked as a Rej.

Be defective

Be rebellious.

Fletcher trains the Rejects.

But that’s not the worst that he does in the Institute, and being a Reject isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you.

You can have your bond officially broken and become a Brok.

It’s rare but it does still happen.

I shudder.

Thomas’ expression clouds, when he follows the direction of my gaze.

He snatches up one of the brochures, crumpling it furiously between his hands. “Why does he have this out all the time? He doesn’t do subtle threats, huh? I’d die, rather than send my Omega to his Institute. You must know that I’ll stop him from sending you, Mercy.”

And that’s what I’m scared of.

I shrug, wrapping my arms around myself.

I’m cold.

It’s freezing inside Ace Hall.

My dress is white and lace because Fletcher chose it and that’s what he prefers but it’s not warm enough.

My skin goosebumps.

I duck my head, and my hair covers my eyes. “My Alpha keeps talking about this new male Brok, who was brought into the Institute a fortnight ago. The Brok’s been running a fever. He’s the only Brok in over a year, and Fletcher seems…obsessed.”

Thomas’ expression tightens. “Well, there’s a reason that the Sheriff’s nickname in town is Acehole.”

I give a startled laugh. “Acehole?”

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