Page 50 of Roulette Rodeo
She's mine, he'd said, like that justified his manic actions.
Ours, Corwin had corrected, because that's how packs worked, even broken ones like ours.
If one of us was going to claim something, it was ours for the taking, and this wasn’t going to be any different.
Only it was…
Now I watch our coldest, most heartless soldier—the man who'd carried wounded brothers through enemy fire without flinching, tortured information from terrorists without blinking—show every emotion on his usually stoic face.
Fear. Panic. Or would I dare say looks dangerously close to devastation.
"Drugged," Shiloh whispers, and the word is barely audible but it hits like a sledgehammer.
Wait…
Of fucking course.
It made so much fucking sense…
This is Vegas, where the house always wins and the games are rigged from the start. Where there's always a catch, always a cheat code that turns winners into suckers.
Marnay wouldn't just hand over his prize omega without ensuring we'd lose in the end.
Great.
Fucking great.
The realization crystalizes with perfect clarity:he'd forced her to drink something.
Probably in that elevator ride up, when she'd been alone with him.
A parting gift, he'd probably called it, wrapped in pretty words and veiled threats.
Red,because I wouldn’t dare think of her as Rowenna,refuse to give her that intimacy even in my own mind—starts tocrumble. Her eyes roll back, showing white, and her body goes limp like someone cut her strings.
Shiloh lunges forward with a speed that would be impressive if it weren't so desperate. He catches her before she hits the ground, cradling her against his chest like she's made of spun glass. The tenderness in the gesture makes me want to punch something.
Then Talon and Corwin drop to their knees beside them, and my shock multiplies exponentially.
Why the fuck were they reacting?
I didn’t make sense. They just met her. Barely knew her. Just saw her thrust her stuff to all those Alpha fuckers on a stage I’m sure she’s performed on thousands of time to multimillionaires for whatever benefits she got aside from the obvious need to survive.
Three of the most dangerous alphas in the Pacific Northwest, men who've killed without hesitation and built an empire on calculated violence before out mini “retirement”, are kneeling on the floor of a Vegas penthouse.
They're shaking her, calling her name, their hands gentle despite their size.
"Red, come on," Talon's saying, his usual sarcasm replaced with genuine concern. "Open those pretty eyes, sweetheart."
"Her pulse is thready," Corwin reports, two fingers pressed to her throat.Always the medic, even after leaving the field."Breathing's shallow. Whatever he gave her, it's hitting hard."
I stand frozen, watching this tableau unfold like I'm viewing it through frosted glass.
For a moment—I don't see Red lying there. I see another omega, a long time ago, the reminder of my failures.
Sophia.
She'd been blonde where Red is auburn, delicate where Red projects strength, sweet where Red must be defiant. But lyingthere with her eyes closed and her skin going pale, she could be Sophia's ghost come back to haunt me.
