Chapter 2:
Consciousness returns to me in jagged, painful shards.
My first sensation is the smell. It isn't the metallic tang of blood or the chemical burn of suppressants anymore. It's the scent of cedarwood, old parchment, and the lingering, dominant musk of rain-soaked earth. It's him. It's Kade Thorne's scent, and it's everywhere.
I sit up too fast. The world spins, a nauseating tilt of gray and brown. I'm in a massive stone fortress, lying on a mattress that feels like a cloud. My neck feels light, unnervingly bare. I reach up a shaky hand and touch my throat. The collar is gone.
"Steady, Omega."
The voice is a low vibration from the shadows. Kade Thorne stands up, unfolding like a predator. He stops at the foot of the bed, his gold eyes tracking the movement of my pulse.
"The suppressants are wearing off, Elena. Your scent... it's starting to fill the room. Lilies and cream. And something underneath it. Something royal."
"Don't call me that," I snap. "I want to go home."
"You don't have a home," Kade says bluntly. "The moment you were processed at that auction, your old life ended."
In a blur of motion, Kade is at the side of the bed. He leans down, his face inches from mine. I can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. This is the Alpha Aura—the physical manifestation of his power.
"Look at me, Elena," he commands.
I meet his gaze. The mate bond roars to life. My pulse skyrockets. A low, shameful heat begins to pool between my thighs.
His hand moves from my hair, trailing down the side of my neck. My breath catches. His thumb traces over my pulse point—right where a claiming bite would go.
"Your heart is racing, Elena," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "Fear? Or something else?"
"Hate," I whisper, but it sounds like a lie even to me.
His hand drops lower. His knuckles brush—barely, teasingly—against the swell of my breast through the thin nightshirt. It's not a grope. It's a promise. Heat pools between my thighs, shameful and unbidden.
He leans in until his lips ghost over the shell of my ear. "Liar. I can scent your arousal, little Omega. Your body already knows what your mind refuses to accept."
I shove against his chest with both hands. He doesn't budge, but he does pull back, that infuriating smirk still in place.
"Eat. Sleep. There are clothes in the wardrobe," he says, backing toward the door. "Tomorrow, you meet the pack."
"And if I refuse?"
He stops at the door, the firelight catching the gold in his eyes. "Then I'll just have to come back and fetch you myself. And I promise you, you won't like the way I handle 'defiance' when I'm hungry."
The door slams and locks.
I fall into a deep sleep, but my dreams are not of cages or auctions. They are of gold eyes and scarred hands. Of a voice that promises to burn the world down just to hear me scream his name. Of strong fingers tracing paths down my body that make me arch and whimper.
When I wake, the sun is bleeding over the mountains, and Kade Thorne is leaning against my doorframe, watching me sleep with eyes that promise he's been imagining all the ways he's going to make me scream his name.
"Time to get up, Elena," he rumbles. "The pack is waiting."
His eyes drag down my body, lingering on the way the sheet has slipped down to expose my shoulder.
"And after that?" His voice drops to a growl. "You're mine."