There, now that that was done, he just needed to find a device he could upload the program to.
Fenrir froze when he turned his head and discovered a multi-slate resting on the desk. It’d been placed there haphazardly, as though someone had carelessly tossed it onto the wooden surface.
Was this a test?
Where was the alpha anyway?
Fen glanced around the room, searching the corners or anywhere else he thought there might be hidden cameras. Without conducting a thorough search, however, he couldn’t be certain, even when he didn’t immediately spot anything. There wasn’t any time to look harder. The alpha could returnat any moment, and if he did before Fenrir had completed his mission…
“Screw it.” He’d take the risk. There was a better chance that the alpha had left his device here without thinking. Because he knew where Fen had come from and therefore had to know that there was no one he could call, even if he wanted to.
Product weren’t allowed communication devices of their own, and they weren’t given contact numbers. Anyone placed out in the field, like the waitress he’d encountered at the party, had a handler nearby to escort and monitor them.
Fenrir was trusted more than the rest, had been allowed out of the Wardrobe’s sight because Michelle trusted him enough to return to her. But even that only went so far.
She hadn’t given him her contact information, so if he did get into trouble, if he was caught betraying the alpha, Fen was shit out of luck. He wasn’t delusional. He knew very well that she would abandon him in a heartbeat if it came down to it. Didn’t matter that she’d spent the past two years perfecting him.
Fenrir was still product.
Still disposable.
If he could get away with this, though, maybe that would change.
Was it pathetic that his big wish was to belong, even if it meant conforming to the same nightmare group that had ruined his life? Yes. But knowing that didn’t change the facts. No matter how much he hated himself for wanting to be pack, that didn’t quell the desire.
Fen wanted to be free. Even if that meant selling the only pieces left of himself he still had.
The multi-slate was in his hand a moment later, and he slotted the chip into the port at the side, tapping on the screen when the program appeared. Red lines raced across it, flickeringbefore forming the image of two squares, one filled, the other empty.
Not wanting to take any chances, his eyes pinged around at the closed doors. Since he was already in it, might as well go all the way. It’d been imperative to conceal his energy before, but not now.
Inwardly, he felt for the invisible thread at the center of his chest and tugged on it, feeling the familiar thrum of power reacting to his summons.
Fenrir planted his palm against the wall and willed that power forward, staring at the nearest doorknob. Frost skated from his hand across the opalescent wallpaper, then coated the metal knob, freezing the locking mechanism in place. He repeated the process until all three doors were secured, then sighed.
Hybrids weren’t unheard of, but they weren’t very common either. With the planet in upheaval over dwindling birthrates, that would no doubt be changing, but for now, Fenrir was considered a rare breed.
Rarer still because of what his Syn bloodline had been mixed with.
If this secret got out, it would be worse than the alpha catching him planting spyware on his device, but since he was currently alone, Fenrir utilized it. No one else on the planet was aware that he was part Shout, a race typically found on the planet Ignite, located in a galaxy far from theirs. Someone in his line had fled from the planet generations ago, but his grandparents hadn’t known much more than that.
Shouts had the ability to control certain elements. For him, that was ice. He could pull it from the molecules in the air and form it to his will, but his bloodline was too diluted. His ability could be used in bursts, but not for lengthy periods of time.
Of course, he’d tried to use it to escape when he’d been younger, once the trials had begun and life had become unbearable. He hadn’t gotten far. Eventually, Michelle had caught him. She’d kept his secret, had tried to convince him she could be trusted as a confidante, but he knew the truth.
She wanted to use him.
That was fine.
People who were useful were made pack, and he’d waited all this time for her to finally trust him enough to let him off the estate. To give him a task and allow him to prove himself.
He wouldn’t squander this opportunity.
The empty square began to fill, and Fenrir held his breath as he watched it. The program would load itself onto the device and blend seamlessly into the background, undetected. It would give Michelle remote access, and she’d be able to view everything Oberon King sent and received from here on out. Every search he made on the internet or game he spent his pastime playing.
She’d see it all, and through it, she’d figure out how to get the White Frost off the Wardrobe’s back.
Fenrir didn’t know much, only what she’d confided in him, but the gist of it was that the Leviathan had turned a new leaf and had suddenly started hunting other organizations down. There was another mafia, equally as dangerous, who were doing the same, though so far it appeared the two weren’t in cahoots.