Page 99 of Candy & Her Saints

“I wish that I could take my bond leave but obviously, I don’t want to tip off Dad about our bond, until I have to,” he explains. “So, I need to love you and leave you. Mind numbing work calls. We can talk more later. I have a lot to…just a lot to tell you.”

Thomas kisses the top of my head, before prowling to the door.

“Like what his charge means?” I manage to force out.

Thomas hesitates, gripping the door handle. “There’s one more member of this pack who you haven’t met yet. I’m not bonded to him. I’ve been forbidden to. Unlike Lincoln and you, I can’t shower him with gifts, clothes, and attention. But it’s for his own protection. He’s a prisoner. Feral. Please, be kind to him. He’s broken but also, braver than I am. I care deeply for him. I know that in most packs, there’s a hierarchy with unbonded Omegas being at the mercy of the bonded. But I won’t allow that. He needs an Omega friend, desperately. After breakfast, ask Lincoln to take you down into the basement. You should meet Ghost.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Saint Cage, Haven

“OG, Omega Ghost, lives through there?” I stare dubiously at the intimidating door.

It’s heavy, large, and iron.

It leads down into the Saint Cage’s basement.

Only half an hour ago, Lincoln drew me down a grand, sweeping staircase. Then he collected a breakfast tray from the kitchen.

Now, we’re standing together in a silent, elegant corridor, which has high ceilings and gold edged wallpaper.

The door is like a rotting tooth in a beautiful man’s smile.

It makes my skin crawl.

I shiver.

My heart is hammering.

OG, the male Omega who we plan to rescue, is on the other side of this door.

He’s a prisoner.

Broken.

Feral.

Yet the way that Thomas spoke about him made me feel that he’d have bonded with Ghost, if it wasn’t forbidden.

He desperately wanted us to be kind to him.

Hell, I expected to rescue Ghost from Thomas’ cruelty.

Yet Thomas appears to need rescuing alongside Ghost.

Alpha and Omega are both prisoners in this cage.

It shows that you can’t judge by appearances.

One of my bestselling creations for the bakery is the Dough Knot: it’s an optical illusion because it looks like a donut, but when you cut into it, it’s actually a cake.

Nothing is what it seems.

How often is what’s inside something…or someone…the same as what’s on the outside?

I run my fingers over the sky blue blanket that I’m clutching.

I’m bringing it as an Omega offering for Ghost.

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