“Complete it without keeping him in custody.” I straighten, softening my tone. “He’s not a flight risk. He lives and works here. I’ll take personal responsibility for him.”
Barnes considers this, fingers drumming faster. “You understand the implications if we release him into your custody? You’ll be responsible if he disappears or causes any more trouble.”
“I understand.”
“Wait here.” Barnes disappears through a side door.
Five minutes stretch into ten as I stand in the lobby, ignoring the curious stares of the other officers.
When the door opens again, Jared emerges with Barnes behind him.
The cuffs are gone, but Jared’s wrist bears an angry red mark. Someone has given him a damp paper towel to clean most of the blood from his face, but his nose remains swollen, a dark bruise spreading beneath both eyes. He carries a small bag in one hand. His personal effects, I assume.
He searches me out in the room, and when he finds me still there waiting, his posture straightens, a flicker of dignity returning.
“Sign here.” Barnes pushes a clipboard toward me. “And here. You’re responsible for making sure he appears for questioning tomorrow morning at nine.”
I sign without bothering to read the fine print. “And I’ll need a copy of your incident log before I leave.”
Then I lift my phone and take two fast photos, one of Jared’s wrist and another of his face, so they can’t claim later that he wasn’t injured.
Barnes pretends not to notice as he gestures to the woman behind him. “Make a copy.”
Jared stands unmoving, as if he hadn’t expected to walk out of here.
I take the paperwork the female security guard passes over, tuck it into my pocket, and gesture to Jared. “Let’s go.”
He hurries to my side without question.
We’re only a few steps from the door when a chair shrieks across the floor.
“You can’t just let him walk out!”
The angry Alpha from earlier shoves another chair aside as he storms toward us, his face flushed and jaw locked with rage. Pheromones roll off him, acrid with fury.
Barnes’s hand twitches toward his belt, where a taser sits. “Derek?—”
“No.” Derek slices a hand toward Jared. “That bastard went after her, and you’re letting him walk? What happens next time?”
Jared flinches. “I didn’t?—”
“Enough,” I snap.
The command stills half the people present, but Derek’s rage is a living thing, coiling tighter. He continues forward, his teeth bared. “If you won’t protect Omegas, I will.”
I stiffen as the enraged Alpha nears, and none ofthe officers move to stop him. All at once, my control snaps, and my pheromones pour out in a sudden, invisible wave. They crash through the room, oppressive and undeniable, every molecule carrying a single command:submit.
The other Alphas react first. One staggers back into his chair, another goes to one knee with a strangled sound, sweat beading on his brow. Even Barnes, a Beta, stiffens like prey that’s realized the predator is watching.
Derek freezes mid-step, his pupils dilating. His scent twists from acrid rage to startled fear before it collapses under the weight of mine. He lowers his head, shoulders curling, breath hitching shallow and fast like he’s been winded.
Only Jared stands untouched, eyes darting in confusion at the sudden stillness that’s fallen over the room. “What— What just happened?”
I keep my attention on Derek. “You’re lucky I don’t file assault charges for what you did to Jared.”
Color floods Derek’s face, shame warring with the instinct to bare his throat. He forces himself to nod once, jerky with reluctance.
I shift my focus, pinning it on Barnes. “See how easy it is to prove scent-blindness?” I tilt my head toward Jared, steady on his feet andunaffected. “Any Alpha on your roster could have done the same, unless you think they’re all too weak?”