5. Jasmine

I lie motionless in Casper's huge, sweet-smelling bed, listening to his breathing even out until it's coming in slow, even puffs. He insisted on leaving the bathroom light on in case I woke in the night and didn't recognize the room. That little sliver of light falls across his mouth, and I screw my eyes tight, refusing to be swayed by its cute, upward tilt. The soft feelings he's rousing in me are dangerous, and after schooling my heart all these years, I can't afford to give in to it now.

When I'm certain he's asleep, I force myself out of his bed. The thought of going out into the dark cold city makes me cringe, but I don't allow myself to look back as I gather up my things and creep from the room. Once I'm in the hallway, I check that the knife I stole from the kitchen is still in my purse, and then quickly pull on the pair of black flats I found in Kelly's office. I hate the fact I used Casper's injury as cover while I set up my escape, but what choice do I have? I'm not only leaving, I'm running, and I can't do that in bare feet.

Although I'd crawl over hot coals if it meant I got away from the Sawyer Pack.

I take the stairwell back down to the kitchen, rehearsing the next steps of my plan in my head. When Grace let it slip that she's visited a shelter under the public library on 67th Street, I decided to check it out for myself. Not something I could do in person with Kayden watching me around the clock, but a girl from my dorm was happy to hand-deliver a note in exchange for a pair of barely worn Jimmy Choo ballet flats. She even waited for a response, and I read Billy's chicken scratch three times before I tore the note to pieces and flushed it down the toilet. As long as I can make it to the shelter undetected, Billy has a bed waiting for me.

Not that I plan on using it for long. I'll stay a night or two at most, just until I can get the next part of my plan back on track…

As I step into the kitchen, I come to an abrupt halt.

Xavier Volk is sitting at the dining bar, his suit jacket draped beside him, and his shirtsleeves rolled up. He's wearing burgundy suspenders – an accessory that happens to be a weakness of mine - and his tie is loosened just enough that I can see the golden skin of his throat. There's an espresso cup in front of him, but he's not eating a snack, or flicking through the newspaper beside him. He's just sitting in the empty kitchen. At midnight. Drinking coffee and clearly waiting for something.

For me?

I shudder to think I'm that predictable.

And then he looks up at me through inky lashes and says, "You're good for him."

I don't need to ask who he's talking about, so I just shrug. "He was nice to me."

"But now you're leaving."

It's not a question, and I tilt my chin up. "You can't stop me. If you try to command me or drug me again, I'll still find a way out."

He drains his coffee and pushes it aside, those black eyes fixed on my face. "I didn't do anything except catch you and put you to bed." I raise my brows at him, annoyed by his calm tone, but he just shrugs. "My guess is you fainted because you're worn out. You've been dealing with too much, and your body needed a break."

He's probably right. I'm exhausted by all the lies and deception and have been running on empty for a while. And as much as I'm suspicious about his motives, why would he lie? Alphas have no reason to be subtle about the way they control my kind.

I'm chewing on my lip, wondering if I really can just make a dash for the door, when he says, "We will pay you to stay."

"What?"

"This is the best place for you, given the circumstances. Treat it like a job if it makes it easier to accept."

I ignore that last part as I glance around the luxurious kitchen. "You don't look like you need any more hired help."

"I'm not talking about that kind of work. Although I've spoken to your professors, and they tell me you're at the top of your culinary class." I do well at school. It's the one piece of me that never belonged to my father or to Kayden, and it's one of the few places I can feel in control. But I'm still reeling at the fact he called my school, when he says, "There's a lot of concern out there for you. The current rumor is you've been abducted, and your professors and classmates are understandably distraught."

I give a guilty gulp. I've tried my best not to get too attached to anyone in my dorm, but I know some of the girls will be worried. A few might even drop out of school if they think there's an omega-snatcher on the loose. "Kayden didn't leave me any choice."

"I understand. And I'm certainly not blaming you for engineering your escape."

I guess the ruse that I'm a kidnapping victim is now beyond saving. "But…?"

"But you don't have to keep running. Like I said, we're prepared to pay you a lot of money if you'll stay here with us."

His tone is so calm, so reasonable, it would be easy just to agree and go back upstairs to Casper's bed. But just because he's not commanding me doesn't mean I can trust him. "Why? You have to know the best thing for all of us is if I leave." I look pointedly at the door. "This is Kayden's world, and when he tracks me down, I won't be the only one who pays."

He tilts his head, curiosity shining in those ebony eyes. "You don't trust us to protect you from him?"

"Alphas protect alphas. Isn't this club built on that ethos?"

He grunts, his mouth tight. "Alpha clubs don't have the best reputation. Unfortunately, a lot of the time it's deserved. But that's not the case here." His gaze flickers, like he's on the point of sharing something, but then he shakes his head. "We've set things up so that the club and our private lives are always kept separate. If you don't believe me, ask Casper."

"He said something like that," I admit. "But I still don't get why you want me to stay, unless…" I think back over what I've seen and what I've learned about Casper, and my eyes widen. "You want to court him."

Xavier gives a low chuckle, his fingertip lightly tapping the bar counter. "The fact that he doesn't know we've been courting him for weeks should be a blow to my ego. But, as you've no doubt worked out, he's fairly closed off right now."

"I disagree." The memory of him pressing his chocolate-coated finger into my mouth swirls through my head, making my cheeks warm. And that little weakness instantly makes my hackles rise. "Maybe it's just that you're crap at courting."

Instead of snapping back at me, Xavier nods. "Exactly. We haven't had a lot of practice, but we're willing to learn. Which is why we want you to be our pack companion."

I gape at him now. A pack companion? It's an outdated term for a beta who was hired as a kind of nanny-assistant-confidant to an omega, usually because their prospects for romance or a career of their own were limited. While both circumstances currently apply to me, a bolt of pure fear spears through me. Does he know my secret? Fuck! Has he somehow worked out I'm not a natural omega?

My heart starts to pound and Xavier's eyes narrow. It's like he can see right under my skin, maybe even to that mutated gland in my brain, and I have to force a scornful laugh. "Do I look like a governess from the nineteen hundreds to you? I'm pretty sure pack companions went out of fashion with petticoats and corsets."

I'm trying to distract him from the idea that I could be anything other than the omega he sees in front of him, but I'm not prepared for the way his black gaze sweeps over me. The bodysuit didn't allow for a bra, and I know my nipples are probably visible through Casper's thin tee. For a moment my skin flushes hot, but as I feel the heat start to travel down to my core, I squeeze my hands into fists. "Besides, I'm an omega. And last time I checked the history books, pack companions were always betas."

Xavier gives a loose shrug. "I'm using the term in a general sense. Call yourself whatever you want, but we want you to stay for Casper. He needs the company, and we're prepared to pay you very well for your time."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him he can keep his money, but the truth is, it's almost impossible to escape when you're broke. I've squirreled money away over the past year, including dipping into a small trust my grandmother secretly set up for me, but I used most of that to fund my original plan. And it wasn't really surprising to learn that mercenaries don't accept IOUs.

But my mind is looping back to Xavier's courting comments. "Have you actually told Casper that you want to court him?"

Xavier pulls a rueful smile. "I definitely implied it. And I assumed it was fairly obvious given the way Erik barely leaves his side." He tilts his head, watching me closely. "I think tonight's the first night Erik hasn't slept in the hallway outside Casper's room."

I flush, more than a little unsettled as I imagine tripping over the massive alpha as I snuck out. "You're still worried about his safety?"

"Not his safety. Like I said, no one from the club can get up here. But Casper has barely spoken in months. He refuses to talk about his injury, and he eats the bare minimum. Except with you." He nods towards the saucepan sitting on the drying rack. "What did you tempt him with?"

I can't hide my smirk now. "Homemade chocolate sauce. Your chef is very talented."

He concedes the point with a nod. "And yet, the only hand he eats from with any real enthusiasm is yours."

The flush under my skin quickly cools. When he says I hand-fed Casper, is he being literal? Was he watching us? Given how security-conscious they are, it wouldn't surprise me if they don't have every room wired for video. "So, I'll come back and visit a few times. I'll even whip up another sauce if he wants me to."

I try for an airy tone, but when Xavier hooks a finger in the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly, his voice is flat. "We both know if you step out that door, you're gone."

Gone or dead? I still can't tell what's an observation and what's a threat with this man. "Look, this isn't just about me. I don't get to just do what I want."

I don't know why I admit that to him. The backbone of my disguise over the years has been my iron control. That I've chosen everything that's happened to me, including my bonding to the noxious Sawyer Pack. A few people knew it was a ruse – like Grace, who has repeatedly offered to get me away from her stepbrother – but even with her, I didn't share the whole truth. I just told her it was easier to live with the devil you know, even though the lie made me feel sick with shame.

"No," Xavier says quietly, "you're worried about your half-sister. Violet. Aged twelve, and currently living with your father on the Crenshaw family estate." When I blink at him, he says, "Erik found a copy of a suppressed police report you tried to make a couple of years ago."

My head spins, my stomach twisting so hard I feel like I'm about to puke on the floor. But there's no way to suppress the memory of going to the police station when I turned twenty-one. I knew it was a mistake, but I had to try. And when I told a detective I wanted to file a report against my dad, he said that abuse claims are the jurisdiction of child protective services. I'd insisted he take down my details, since I'd done my research and knew he had to conduct at least a preliminary interview. I gave him a basic timeline, emphasizing how imperative it was to get Violet into care. He nodded along in apparent sympathy, then offered to call child protective services on my behalf. Of course, he called my father instead, and ten minutes later a town car and Jackson, his head of security, arrived to take me home.

"My father buried that report," I say through numb lips, then give a bitter laugh. "I later found out the detective's pack were members of this club."

"Alphas protect alphas." Xavier repeats my words back to me, sounding disgusted. "And you believe your sister is still in harm's way?"

I take a step towards him, gripping the edge of the dining counter. "If I'm not there to pay my dad's debt to the Sawyer Pack, he'll eventually use Violet. Give her to them, or sell her to cover the loan. Something that will ruin her forever." I cover my mouth, because I really am close to puking with guilt and shame. "And it will be my fault for not acting before it's too late."

Xavier surprises me by reaching across the counter and gripping my fingers. His hand is warm and surprisingly calloused for such a sleek alpha. "That's not happening. We'll protect Violet, just like we'll protect you."

I stare at him, my emotions raging behind my blank face. "I can't trust you," I whisper. "I can't trust any alpha."

"I swear on my soul, Jasmine. As long as you're under our roof, you're under our protection."

And there's the catch. I need to give them something if I want their help, because nothing in the dealings of alphas is free. I can smell my own scent turn bitter, but I take a slow, steadying breath. Would it be so bad to take his offer and stay here with Casper for a few weeks? If Xavier can really help with getting Violet away from my dad, my entire world would change. I'd have options, and with the money from my pack companion gig, I'd be able to start thinking about a real future for Violet.

"Okay. If you promise to save my sister, I'll help you court Casper."

Something flashes over Xavier's handsome face, but then he's off his stool and waving me towards the door. "Then we should get started right away."

I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but it's not to be handed a black silk trench coat, a pair of stiletto boots, and a wig of strawberry-blond curls. I put them all on in a bathroom just off the club's private parking garage, then slide into a SUV with Xavier at my side. I don't recognize the driver, but I'm not surprised to see Erik sitting in the passenger seat. He's in another version of his soldier gear, although he's wearing a black bomber jacket over his gray henley. He looks ready to storm a castle, but I'm sweating under my disguise. "You're leaving Casper home alone?"

I can't keep the accusation from my voice and I watch Erik's hand tighten into a fist on his thigh. Yep, I'm not the only one on edge.

"He's safe," Xavier assures me. "And we won't be gone for long."

I shrug, but the look I give him makes it plain that this is a test. If anything goes wrong, or if the safety of anyone I care about is compromised, I'll be gone in a flash.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask as we leave the parking garage and head out onto the street. It might be after midnight, but this part of the city never sleeps, and I stare out the window at the well-dressed people heading out of restaurants or ducking into clubs. Everywhere I look, people are smiling and enjoying themselves, and I feel a familiar spasm of envy. "You can't just drive up to the door of my dad's estate and order him to hand Violet over." I catch Erik's curious look from the front seat and turn to Xavier with a hostile look. "Unless you're already reneging on our deal."

"Retrieving your sister is a top priority," Xavier replies in his mild tone. "But as you said, we can't just go in guns blazing. We need to scope the estate and find a weakness we can exploit."

In one way, I'm relieved they're going to take their time to get it right. After all, I've spent months putting my own escape plan in place. But the desperate part of me that just wants Violet out of that fucking house is too close to the surface. "Then why am I here with you and not curled up in bed with Casper?"

Oh, yep. That gets another fist clench from Erik, but Xavier just smiles at me. "Believe me, we want that as much as you do. But before you place your sister's safety in our hands, you should give us a trial run."

I think back over what Casper has told me about these alphas, and how Erik was the one to save him from the Boston club. "You're on a rescue mission?"

Xavier gives a grim nod, but it's Erik who turns and says, "A secret rescue mission, which is why we don't usually bring civilians along."

The rebuke is clearly meant for Xavier, but I just shrug. "Tell me what to do and I promise I won't get in the way."

Erik studies me for a beat, then hands me his phone. It's displaying an invitation to a Tasting Event in midtown, and looks pretty tame until I read the small print at the bottom. "What does BYOCP mean? Bring Your Own Cheese Platter?"

Xavier's lips quirk. "Unfortunately, no. It stands for Collared Pets."

My mouth drops open. "What?"

"Omegas," Erik clarifies, his jaw clenching white. "Some attendees will bring their own, as per the invitation, but there will also be a stable of collared omegas for guests to sample." When I glare at him, he takes his phone back. "It's their language, not mine. As far as I'm concerned, the fuckers who run these nights are lower than animals."

"A tasting event," I murmur under my breath. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's up to you how close you want to get," Xavier says quietly. "You can stay in the car, or you can come in and help us."

It only takes a moment to work out why I'm really here. "I'm assuming by ‘help', you mean you want to use me as bait." I try to picture what I'd be walking into and shake my head, hoping they can't hear my thudding heart. "Sorry, but you'll have to come up with another way to rescue your omega."

A snarl rips from Erik's throat, but it's the gleam in Xavier's eye that makes my breath catch. Streetlights flash past in a blur, but there's no mistaking the eyeshine, the mark of a pissed-off uber. "You're not here as bait!" Xavier grinds out. "Why would you think that?"'

I start to shrink back, then catch myself. "Hey, you're the one that dressed me up like an alpha gift bag!" I tug on the silky belt holding my trench coat closed. It's pretty obvious I don't have much on underneath. "That's the message, right? Unwrap me and have your fun?"

I'm fairly certain I see a flash of heat in those wolf-like eyes, but Xavier looks away and shakes his head. "This is alpha musk." He takes a small glass vial from his jacket pockets and hands it to me. "You can put it on your pulse points, or you can stay in the car with Tom. There's no pressure either way. But if you come in with me, you'll be my cousin from California. An alpha who's curious about the games we get up to on the east coast."

"That's my cover story? I'm a randy alpha looking for a good time?"

"No one will check it," Erik says from the front seat. "The one thing you can guarantee at these events is that no one's asking questions."

Not that alphas ever feel like they have to explain themselves. I swallow my sneer and carefully pry the lid off the vial. A meaty scent wafts out at me, and I have to bite my tongue to hold back a whimper. I'm in a car with two goddamn ubers – I can't afford to show any weakness right now. But the concentrated scent is like a red rag to my worst nightmares, and the vial grows slippery between my fingers. My breathing is so shallow, tiny white dots start to pop at the edges of my vision. I look at Xavier helplessly. "Can you… can you please put it on me?"

"Of course," Xavier says soothingly, the vial disappearing into his hand. A moment later, his calloused fingers brush my wrists and I try not to flinch. He doesn't linger, quickly dabbing the scent to the sensitive skin behind my ears. And then someone is pumping extra air into the car, blissfully cool against my flaming cheeks. "You're still you, Jasmine," Xavier murmurs, those fingers now tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "This is just a disguise."

I can't stop the brittle laugh that burns my throat. "More truthful words have never been spoken."

It's as close as I've come in a long time to exposing my father's actions. Genetic manipulation, but also denying me a normal life. If he hadn't decided to test his miracle drug on me, I could've been a beta, like Grace, and had a career far from his influence. Or I might have presented on my own in a couple of years, since Dr. Tamper said I possessed all the markers of a ‘natural' omega. Or maybe time would've unleashed my inner alpha, and some other poor girl would've been the rat in my father's lab.

But Lachlan Crenshaw wanted the perfect omega daughter, and he was prepared to do anything to sell that lie to the world.

A sour scent swirls around me and I catch the concern in Xavier's eyes, but Erik just nods at the windshield. "We're pulling up. You ready to go?"

I take a deep breath and squeeze the tender skin of my wrist. Whatever this is, if there's a chance of rescuing an omega – and getting one step closer to saving my sister – I'm damn well going to grab it in both sweaty palms.

"Ready as I'll ever be."