Either way, bonds were tomorrow’s issue.
A dark bond was off the table anyway. It was a bond that alphas could give omegas without consent, a bond of absolute control. It meant the omega had to follow every command. And it wasn’t illegal to dark bond gold packs like Crescent.
But our pack couldn’t dark bond her—they were a single omega deal. A pack with a dark bond couldn’t have two omegas in it.
The issue now was that normal bites required consent of both parties.
And I was starting to wonder if I could get her on board at all with all this corruption worry.
That was after I’d figured out the deal with Dominic Redgrave—which I definitely wasn’t going to bring up tonight.
“I do have to worry,” Crescent mumbled after a long pause. “Clearly none of you are going to.”
Damn, she was sweet.
I’d never met anyone so worried about my salvation.
Sighing, I held her close and pet her hair. If we argued, we would only upset her—especially if this was some extreme religion like Phantom mentioned. It was better if we introduced new ideas slowly.
“You can worry for us then. Talk about it more tomorrow, OK?”
On cue, I heard the buzz of the lock turning into place, shutting us safely inside for the night. No one else could get in until morning.
“It’s safe to sleep,” I promised her, and from the way she went lax I knew she believed me wholeheartedly.
I only hoped that trust wouldn’t end in disaster for us all.
10
CRESCENT
Three Days Before - The Convent
Loneliness was the reason I went week after week.
It was early Sunday morning, and the stone was cool on my knees as I waited, knelt at my bedside, head bowed.
My blindfold was secured tightly around my head, and my left hand had a silk glove. I’d left the little golden stitched flowerhead outside of the door this morning, signifying that I wanted to join the service.
It had been so quiet all week, and I wanted to hear voices other than the Sisters’ prayers, or the quiet turning of pages in our lounge.
Most of all, I wanted the scents.
I wouldn’t admit how much I craved them—the scents of others. Alphas, betas, omegas. Often nothing too overpowering, as it was rude to enter worship without a little dampener at least, but they mixed with the sweet smell of wooden pews to make something new.
Others that weren’t just gold pack omegas or members of the Sisterhood.
It was my only chance to be with them.
I heard footsteps passing my door, low words exchanged back and forth as the Sisters got ready for the service.
Each time they neared, I squeezed my eyes shut behind the blindfold, hoping they’d choose my door.
We were corruption waiting to happen. Letting gold packs like us mingle with members of the congregation—that would be chaos. So we were allowed to attend with an escort. Usually it was a Sister, if they wished to be generous, but sometimes respected members of the congregation would volunteer.
That way, we could still hear the Sermon, but responsibly. Some weeks, though, there weren’t enough volunteers, and we couldn’t all go.
Finally, I heard a faint rap on my wooden door, followed by it sweeping open.