“Tell that to our Dominus,” Koah stated tersely. “He’s already ordered the man hunted down.”
Levi was far too serious about all of this if you asked Oberon.
Not that anyone had.
Or ever would.
“I want the auction house cleaned up,” he told them, switching topics. “All of the damaged parts should be restored.”
“Why you telling us?” Koah set his hands on his hips. “We don’t work for you, Purse.”
Fiora rolled her eyes. “Oh, so I suppose you expect him to leave his sick omega so he can deliver the orders himself?”
“I expect him to tell Claudio to do it,” he corrected, “like he does with everything else.”
“Claudio is also bedridden, you dolt.”
“Siblings.” Oberon rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows where a tension headache was forming. “Kindly shut the fuck up and get the hell out.”
“See what you’ve done?” Fiora hissed at Koah as the two of them moved toward the door. “I wanted to see if Fenrir is out of it when he wakes up, but you’ve gone and gotten us kicked out.”
There was a chance Fenrir wouldn’t recall anything that took place after the fire. The doctors had already prepared O for as much. It would make sense for his mind to react to that state the same way it did whenever he’d suffered from influx, his memories wiped as his brain’s way of protecting him the best it could.
If it was better for him to forget, Oberon didn’t care. If Fenrir wanted to bite him again while he was present and in full control of himself, the same way O had, that was more than all right.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once the two of them were alone. “I should never have suggested such a stupid plan. Although,” he smirked, “you would have simply gone without me, isn’t that right?”
Oberon had recognized the violence in Fenrir before Levi had spilled his identity.
“You’re going to make a great mafia member, precious.” He threaded his fingers through Fenrir’s hair.
When his omega had come racing down the steps, there’d been ash and frost in his dark locks. It was washed out now, but picturing it, recalling the way Fenrir’s skin was burned and melted from his calf down…
“I was so scared.” Not of Michelle or the gun she’d had on him. Of the smoke drifting down the stairs at her back.
Of what that meant.
“Trick and Jose got away,” he said. “They won’t get far though, will they, precious. As soon as you’re better, we’ll chase them down and slit their throats. Together this time. From now on, everything we do, every risk we take, we stick together. Is that understood?”
Back at the cottage, when they’d been attacked by the Wardrobe, Oberon had left Fenrir in the safer position. His taskhad been no less important, but waiting to push a button was arguably a lot more secure than going on the offensive.
Perhaps if Fenrir wasn’t an ex-alpha, Oberon would have made a different choice when putting this plan together, but at the time, knowing how capable his omega was, it’d made sense that their roles switch this time around.
He’d sit in the safer position, lure Michelle away from the upper levels, so that Fenrir could cause a scene and kill as many of the Wardrobe members and guards that he could.
“Wake up so you can tell me what happened.” The cameras had either been fried from the fire or Fenrir’s frost, destroying any security footage they could have checked.
From what Fiora was able to deduce from the bodies she’d studied while Fenrir was undergoing surgery, Fenrir had most likely slain everyone on the third floor before making his way, still undetected, to the fourth. The original plan had been for him to be loud about it. They’d wanted to draw as much attention to him as possible to trigger either Michelle or Trick into calling for reinforcements.
While that had still happened in the end, it’d been delayed thanks to Fenrir’s covertness.
“You must have really wanted to take him out, huh, baby?” Oberon chuckled. “How about it. You wake up, get back on your feet, and I’ll hand deliver that bastard on a golden platter. You can kill him, torture him, whatever you fancy. But you have to wake up first. I’m not trying to rush you,” he most certainly was, “but I’m lonely. Turns out, I’ve developed a bit of a dependency those weeks we spent together. Go figure.”
“I wonder how much it would cost to buy silence,” Fenrir’s voice was weak and thready, the words mumbled from lips that barely opened. His eyes were still closed, and for a moment, Oberon feared he was hallucinating, before the omega sighed.
“Too bad for you, that’s one thing your rich alpha refuses to pay for.” O held tightly to his hand, waiting for Fenrir to gather enough strength to finally look at him.
The omega blinked, slowly adjusting to the light of the room, before finding his gaze. “Hey.”