Page 17 of Harley & Her Ferals

“What do you think happens to bad little Omegas like you Above?” Dad tucked the covers restrictively around me. I didn’t dare tell him that I could hardly breathe. “I heard from one of the Betas that you were sniffing around the tunnels that lead up to the exit. No, don’t try to deny it, Harley. Why would you try to escape? Where would you go? Let me tell you a story. Bad Omegas are marked as Rejects up there. They’d clasp around your wrist an ugly bracelet with anRcharm dangling from it. It has a government tracker embedded. Do you want that? To be classed as defective or rebellious? The Alpha Underworld is a refuge. Up there, an Omega like you would be conditioned in an Institute and auctioned to a cruel pack. You’re only safe with me. Your Dad is a hero. Aren’t you lucky? Those Omegas and Betas that I kidnap are being rescued. They’ll be grateful, as soon as they settle in and learn their place.”

As I grew older, I watched the pretty, soft Omegas who were dragged from the Above to become prizes or rewards, as they wept and begged.

I was never allowed to speak to them.

Yet I noticed that none of them wore bracelets with trackers.

Did that mean Dad had the Hades only kidnap non-Rejects, so that they couldn’t be tracked?

Did that mean they came from the best packs?Ones that loved them?

From the times I’ve been able to look through my brother’s phone, I know that Rejectsdoexist Above.

In which case, Dad must have been kidnapping the elites, often celebrities and the most beautiful Omegas from each state because they make the most dramatic prizes.

He’s no hero.

And I am going to find a way to stop him.

Lionzio watches me sympathetically for a moment, before he drags me into a hard hug.

Taken by surprise, my arms hang at my sides. Then I raise them to gently hug him back.

He smells of fresh coffee.

Family and love.

“I’ve missed you, Harley.” Lionzio’s hand tightens on my back like he’s terrified of letting go. “I’ve wanted to come up and visit you every day.”

“But you’ve been drowning in paperwork for the pack,” I finish for him.

“You don’t want to know about any of that. I often think that the blood the fighters are splattered in is somehow more honest than the work I do, covering my hands in ink.” He stares down at his hands, which are as clean as they always are.

“When did you last use a pen? Is there an equivalent for typing on a computer or touchscreen?” I tease, trying to pull him back from whatever dark place he’s sunk into.

As Dad’s promised heir, Lionzio knows more about the business than I ever want to.

Lionzio appears to shake himself, giving a tight smile. “Not with how clean I keep mine.” He bites his lip like he’s debating whether saying something or not. Then his gaze slides, as if against his will, to Feral who is still on the alert watching usboth. Why does my brother look so guilty? “You know that I’m not meant to tell you who you’re fighting. But I have access to all info that passes through the Underworld. It’s the one benefit of being considereduselessfor the muscle work.”

I draw back from Lionzio, excited. “So, who are we facing?”

“The best fighters from the Hades pack.”

Shit.

Feral cocks his head. “Vinnie?”

Lionzio nods.

I pale, feeling sick. “Vinnie has paired with the new fighter, who everyone says is a psycho, hasn’t he? The one who is popular with the Betas? Harbinger?”

“Trust Dad to leave the most spectacular, closest match for last,” Lionzio replies. “The man’s real name is Wolf. He appears to owe a debt to Vinnie, which is why he’s fighting down here. You know, the old story with that pack.”

“Uh-huh.” I’m distracted, however, worriedly glancing over at my gorgeous Alpha, who is trying to look like this isn’t devastating news. This is the only partnership that could destroy our dreams. “Could they beat us?”

Lionzio taps his diamond cuff links in thought. “I’ve watched Dad’s secret videos of Harbinger training, and he’s fucking good. The Alphahole is the only person I’ve seen who could challenge you both, when paired with Vinnie. Harbinger is cold and brutal. Military style. Focused. It’s likely to be the toughest match that you’ve fought. But I believe in you.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Thanks, bro.”

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