“I’m product,” Fen sneered. “You’re a buyer. That’s all. You got your kicks, had your fun. I wouldn’t still be here if not for—”
“The animosity between the White Frost and the Wardrobe?”
Unbidden, his gaze slipped to the alpha’s empty wrist. O had a bad habit of forgetting to attach his multi-slate.
“Are you considering calling for help?” Noticing where he was looking, Oberon held up his hand and twisted it in the air mockingly. “Too bad. Even if there was a way for you to get it, it’s not on me. Do you even have a number to call if it was?”
“No.” Fenrir rested his head back on the pillow, tired of straining his neck. He needed a plan. Under the guise of flexing his fingers, he tested his power, trying to see if he could summon even a fleck of ice. There was a zap at the center of his chest, but it sputtered out before he could get a solid grasp on it.
Whatever Oberon’s aim had really been, he had successfully drained most of Fen’s energy.
It would recover, but what to do until then…
“In case you’ve forgotten this detail as well,” the alpha said then, “we’re no longer in the city. I don’t imagine the Wardrobe allowed you to travel much while you were…under their care.”
Fenrir snorted. “Of course a mafia member would consider them treating me like propertycare.”
Oberon tilted his head, and it was impossible to miss how his attention intensified. It was painfully obvious that whatever kindness the alpha had been affording Fenrir, it was over now. “Is this the part where you try and convince me you aren’t working with Michelle?”
Finding out that he was a Shout was already bad enough, but it was clearly past the point where denial might have beenconsidered. Having no clue what he’d revealed this past week when he’d been consumed by dangerous levels of energy and pheromones, Fen also couldn’t pick an angle.
He wasn’t getting out of this.
“Are you going to kill me?” he asked blankly. If he meant it, and they weren’t going to use him for research into Shout/omega hybrids, then there was only one other logical option. “If you were hoping to use me as a hostage, let me save you some time. My mistress doesn’t give two fucks about me. She won’t give you anything to have me returned.”
“If she ever tries to lay a hand on you again, I’ll cut it off,” Oberon growled, the vehemence in his tone momentarily surprising Fenrir. “Hell, I already want to after reading your file,Wolf.”
Fenrir winced and then pulled away some, not managing to get far while chained to the bed. The reaction was fairly out of character for him—he hadn’t cowered before anyone not dressed in a lab coat—and he couldn’t figure out why he was so concerned about the alpha’s mood.
Even Michelle’s ever-changing temperament hadn’t affected him to this degree.
“I’m White Frost,” Oberon continued, obviously misinterpreting Fen’s reaction. “It was easy to gather intel on you once I knew it was necessary. There’s nothing you can hide from me. What was that about saving some time?”
“What do you want me to say?” Fen was a terrible secret agent? Sure. He’d give the alpha that. In his defense, this was the first time he’d been let off the estate without a team of guards surrounding him. All things considered, he thought he’d done a pretty good job. Unless… “How long have you known?”
“That you’re the Wolf everyone whispers about?” Oberon crossed his arms. “The Leviathan told me the night of the party.”
Fen frowned at him. “That was before we—”
“It wasn’t like I was going to return you after dropping eleven million coin.”
“So you did do something to me during my heat.” If the alpha and his Dominus had known from the start, all the more reason to suspect them. “I wouldn’t have suffered from an influx unless you had. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Not for over a year, correct?”
“Since you already know, why bother asking?”
“Because I want to see if you’re ready to tell me the truth.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” The bastard still hadn’t answered his question. “Was the heat inducer spiked?”
“No. Why would I do something like that?”
“I’m struggling to understand why you’ve done any of the things you have.” He pointedly glanced around the room, the muscles between his shoulders protesting. How long had he been stuck in this position? “This doesn’t look like a prison owned by the White Frost. Where is your General? Don’t tell me he’s hiding under the bed.”
“We’re alone here, precious. I would never allow anyone to see you like that.”
“Like what? Forced to ride a toy until—”