The Serpents' Den.
My eyes snap open, and there it is, the gilded ceiling with its painted angels that look more like demons if you stare long enough. The same angels I used to count when things got bad, when the shadows got too loud, when clients got too rough. One through twelve, over and over, until Felix would sneak in and hold me together.
I'm in my old room. The one Evan kept for his "special" merchandise. The one with the locks on the outside and the bathroom with no mirror because he didn't want us getting ideas about broken glass. The luxury was for his benefit, not mine.
My dress from the auction is gone, replaced with one of those sheer nightgowns he always made me wear. Pink. Evan's fucking favorite. I don't even have anything personal against the color,except all the ways it reminds me of him. The fabric feels like shame against my skin, and I want to tear it off, but that would mean being naked when he comes back.
Because he will come back. He always does.
The shadows are screaming now, not their usual whispers but full-throated shrieks that make my head feel like it's splitting.
Trapped trapped trapped! The little butterfly is back in the spider's web!
I force myself to sit up, cataloging the damage. My head throbs where someone hit me—probably when they grabbed me from that room at the auction. It's all fuzzy past the fact that I bit someone hard enough to bleed. I still have the metallic taste in my mouth. There's a bruise forming on my wrist shaped like fingers. But nothing's broken, nothing's bleeding. Evan wants me intact.
For now.
The door opens with that specific creak I'd forgotten until this moment, and there he is. Evan. Felix's brother, though you'd never know it looking at them, except for the eyes. Where Felix is lean and elegant, Evan is thick with the kind of muscle that comes from violence rather than training. A brutal thug in designer threads. His eyes are the color of stone, just a shade off from Felix's yet completely devoid of a soul, and his smile makes my skin try to crawl off my body and hide.
"Welcome home, little flower," he says, using that pet name that makes bile rise in my throat. "I've missed you."
"Fuck you." The words come out before I can stop them, because apparently my survival instincts took a vacation. Too many years of freedom. Of relative security.
He laughs, moving into the room with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how much power he holds. "Suchlanguage. I see my brother's influence hasn't improved your manners."
"Felix is ten times the man you'll ever be," I spit, scrambling off the bed to put distance between us. Not that there's anywhere to go in this beautifully decorated prison cell.
"Felix," he says, tasting the name like expensive wine. "My sweet, confused little brother. Still playing dress-up, I assume? Still pretending he's something he's not?"
"He's not pretending anything. He's exactly who he's supposed to be."
"An omega masquerading as an alpha? Living with vigilantes? Playing house with killers who think they're heroes?" Evan moves closer, and I press myself against the wall because there's nowhere else to go. "He's a broken toy I should have discarded years ago."
"You're just pissed he got away. That we both did. That we burned half your fucking empire on the way out."
His hand shoots out, backhanding me hard enough that I taste copper. My head snaps to the side, and I see stars that definitely aren't painted on the ceiling.
"You cost me millions," he says, grabbing my face, fingers digging into my jaw hard enough to leave marks. "But you're going to pay it all back and then some."
I spit in his face. Blood and saliva hit him right in the eye, and for a second, I think he's going to kill me right there. His grip tightens until I'm sure my jaw's going to crack, and those frozen eyes promise violence that would make the shadows quiver.
But before he can say anything, there's a crash from somewhere down the hall. Shouting. The sound of glass breaking and someone screaming about their money.
"For fuck's sake," Evan mutters, releasing me so suddenly I stumble. "These idiots can't go five minutes without causing problems."
He heads for the door, pausing to look back at me with that smile that haunts my nightmares. "We'll continue this conversation later, little flower. You're going to be very helpful in bringing your protectors here. All of them. Felix and those alphas who think they own you now. I'm going to kill them all, starting with my disappointment of a brother, and you're going to watch."
The door slams shut, locks engaging with a sickening click. I wait until his footsteps fade, then I'm moving, hands searching every inch of the room I know too well.
No weapons. No phone. The windows are still barred, painted gold to match the décor but strong as fuck. The bathroom's the same. Nothing sharp, nothing useful, just expensive soaps and towels too thick to fashion into a decent noose.
But muscle memory takes over, and I drop to my knees by the bed, fingers finding the loose floorboard I discovered years ago. It's still there, still loose, and underneath?—
"Hello, beautiful," I whisper, pulling out the lock picks I hid the week before we escaped. Insurance, Felix had called them. Always have a backup plan.
The shadows stop screaming, starting to whisper excitedly instead.
Clever girl. Sneaky rabbit. Time to run.
