Page 87 of Filthy Royal

Worse, after that scene in the corridor, an unwelcome internal voice kept whispering that it was clear she wanted him too. Whatever her reason for kicking him to the curb and choosing Stormhart, her body still craved his. Responded to his command.

And that was a filthy little secret he wasn’t sure how to forget.

But he’d find a way.

He was a fighter, the Skolov Enforcer, and his family meant everything to him. There was no way one deceitful, social-climbing omega would bring him to his knees.

“Let’s do this.” Skirting the chair and the older bloodstains beneath, he stalked toward her cage, shoving up the sleeves of his shirt as he advanced.

Ironically, it was an old prize transportation unit, one of two he’d found abandoned in the side tunnels. Though the smaller one was missing two wheels, it had been easy to repurpose as a holding cell. Its three transparent walls and a lockable back door made it an ideal prison inside an already contained space.

He probably should have felt at least a twinge of guilt for locking Scarlett in the same kind of Consortium cage he’d once promised to free her from.But no. Nope. Negative.He did not.

Payback was a bitch. Or, in this case, a very pissed-off Alpha with a personal score to settle.

The past was the past. His missing sister, Zaya, was counting on him.

Scarlett had made her choice, and now she’d suffer the consequences.

To ensure he was extra ready, he armed himself with the memory of Crex’s vacant eyes and broken neck. Of the burns on Maddox’s body. Of his baby sister still out there: scared and alone without Skolov protection. He thought of Darvish and all his half brother had done to their family. Of Kadon sitting next to Scarlett in the luxury box while she laughed and smiled and drank. Of how she’d told him she loved him and then fucked him over.

Game face on. He approached the cage and slapped his palm against the crystal.

5

SCARLETT

Slap.

Scarlett waded through the darkness toward clarity, her body screaming at her.

But she was used to that. Pain was an every-rotation occurrence, her usual greeting when she emerged from sleep. As were the grief, longing, and shame that accompanied each breath, and yet, somehow, it was more visceral than usual this time.

Slam.

The louder noise jolted her fully awake, and she gazed up into familiar hard eyes. “Damien?”

His arms opened wide, muscles bunching beneath his black shirt. “In the flesh.”

She blinked twice. “It’s really you.” Everything came crashing back, and she lurched to her feet. “You can’t be here.”

Her palms landed against the cool transparent crystal, and some part of her registered her surroundings.The knothole!He’d locked her inside an old prize display case.

But she had more important concerns to address. First and foremost, returning to Consortium headquarters. Before Damien ruined everything. Or she did.

“You need to let me out of here.” Scarlett glared up at him. “Immediately.”

“Such a rush to get away.” He crossed thick arms across a broad chest and raised an eyebrow, ignoring her demand. “You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were grinding all over me up in that corridor.”

Heat suffused her cheeks.

It didn’t help that she was suddenly aware of every single rip in a gown that had already provided very little coverage and the tear in her undergarments that left her basically bare-assed. Worse, she had an almost crystal-clear memory of doing exactly what he’d accused her of.

She’d been rabid for him, her cunt soaking the front of his leathers.

Of all the ways she’d imagined seeing him again—and she’d fantasized plenty—this had not been one.

Still, she tilted her chin high. “Arrogant as ever.”

---