Page 243 of Filthy Royal

He locked down the impulse immediately. Archaic Alpha behavior was not tolerated here. Slips such as that could buy an Alpha a one-way ticket to a cell himself, and that was not happening to Flynn.

Obedience Breeds Order. Defiance Begets Doom.

Unity Through Control. Prosperity Through Submission.

He was the youngest Federation commander for a reason: he got shit done and followed the rules.

2479.

He stiffened when he realized he was standing directly in front ofthe cell door number, and he’d made it there in record time.

The hair at the back of his neck prickled while an odd humming sensation coursed through his veins and his wrists and throat burned like hells.

What was going on?

Flynn took a deep breath and did something he hadn’t had to do in a long time. He reminded himself he had two missions.

One: to keep the citizens of the Federation safe. Two: to bring down the Brotherhood and all the criminal scum associated with it.

Which meant playing by the rules. No slip ups. No Alpha aggression. And absolutely no deviation from his goals.

Whoever was behind this door was just a means to an end, another chance to reinstate order and prove to the higher-ups that he was more than capable of continuing to rise through the Federation’s military ranks.

No way he’d fuck that up.

Pressing his palm to the cell panel, he engaged the unlocking sequence.

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