Page 51 of Roulette Rodeo
Come back to remind me what happens when alphas like us think we can have soft things.
My stomach drops through the floor, that familiar cocktail of guilt and rage and grief threatening to choke me.
"Got it," Corwin says suddenly, pulling something from his jacket.
It's a thick pen—no, an auto-injector. Military grade from the looks of it, the kind we'd carried in the field for emergencies.
"Is that an epi-pen?" Shiloh asks, not looking away from Red's face.
"Better," Corwin says, already pressing it against her thigh.
The spring-loaded needle deploys with a soft click, and he holds it steady as the medication slowly enters her system.
"Naloxone cocktail with some other enhancers. Mercury mentioned this when I was gathering intel."
"Mercury knew about this?" My voice comes out sharper than intended.
"He said it's common practice," Corwin explains, still focused on Red. "Owners sell their omegas to the highest bidder, omega takes something to ensure they don't survive the night. Original owner keeps the money, buyer loses everything, omega becomes a cautionary tale."
"That fucking bastard," Talon growls. "We haven't even left the building and he's trying to kill her off."
"We need to leave," Shiloh says, so quietly that surveillance equipment wouldn't catch it. His arms tighten around Red's unconscious form. "Now."
"She's not breathing right," Talon says, shaking her again. "Come on, Red. Don't you dare die on us. Not after that show you put on."
They're acting now, playing up the panic for whoever's watching.
Making it look like the medication isn't working, like we're losing our hundred-million-dollar investment right here on Marnay's premium carpet.
They have to be because this shit can’t be real. That they’re reacting like our lives depend on this…bitch…
And I'm still just standing here, frozen between past and present, between Sophia's ghost and Red's reality.
I'm angry.
No, angry doesn't cover it. I'm furious.
At Marnay for his games. At my pack for falling for this omega's charms. At Shiloh for dragging us into this.
At myself for not stopping this foolishness.
But most of all, I'm furious at her.
This omega who's disrupted everything with her defiance, scent and her ridiculous boxing routine.
Who's made my brothers act like lovesick puppies instead of the predators they are.
Who's lying there dying just like?—
My eyes lift slowly, mechanically, until I find what I'm looking for. The security camera in the corner, its red light blinking steadily.Recording everything.Marnay's probably watching right now, waiting to see if his poison works, if he gets to keep our money and our humiliation as trophies.
The gun is in my hand before conscious thought catches up.
A Glock 19, reliable and familiar, the weight of it grounding me in the present.
I don't remember drawing it, but muscle memory doesn't require permission.
The first shot destroys the camera in an explosion of plastic and sparks. The sound echoes through the penthouse like thunder, making my brothers jump.
