Page 28 of Unhinged Alphas

The unspoken threat hangs in the air, stark andundeniable.Fail me in this, and there will be consequences.

Before I can formulate a response, a soft rap sounds at the door. My father's secretary pokes her head in, her expression pinched with barely-concealed anxiety.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt," she says, her gaze darting between the two of us. "But General Corvald is here, and he's... well, he's quite insistent on speaking with you."

A muscle ticks in my father's jaw, the first outward sign of the irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "Of course he is," he mutters, the words little more than an aggrieved growl. He turns back to me, his expression smoothing out into an approximation of placid calm. "It seems duty calls, Thane. Why don't you wait here while I deal with this... interruption? We can continue our discussion over lunch."

I nod, forcing my features into a mask of bland acquiescence. "Of course. I'll be here."

He turns on his heel and strides from the room, the door closing behind him with a dull thud of finality.

I'm left standing there in the wake of his departure, the weight of our conversation hanging heavyin the air. Slowly, I release a deep breath, my shoulders sagging as the tension drains from my frame in a rush.

My gaze darts around the office as soon as we're alone, taking in the trappings of power and privilege that surround me. The gleaming mahogany desk, the plush leather chairs, the shelves lined with priceless tomes and artifacts.

Almost without conscious thought, I find myself moving toward his desk, my fingers trailing over the smooth wood as I round its edge. The urge to dig, to uncover the truth that's been hidden from me for so long, is overwhelming. I know it's a risk, that if my father catches me snooping through his private files, there will be hell to pay—at the very least.

Even the General's son isn't above the consequences of that kind of betrayal.

But I can't stop myself. Ihaveto know. I have to get proof.

I slide open the top drawer, my breath catching in my throat as I take in the neatly organized folders within. Most of them are labeled with innocuous titles. Budget reports, personnel files, mission briefs. But there, tucked away in the very back, is a slim folder marked with a single word that immediately seems off, given where I am.

Shipments.

I pluck it from the drawer, my heart hammering against my ribs as I flip it open. The first page is a memo, dated just a few weeks ago. It's addressed to my father, from someone named Dr. Eliza Duvan.

General Hargrove,

I am pleased to report that the arrangement we discussed the last time we met is proceeding apace. The latest batch of omegas from the Refinement Center have proven most adequately conditioned.

Our allies in the outer territories have expressed a keen interest in acquiring these assets for their own purposes, and I believe we can leverage this to secure additional funding and resources. I have taken the liberty of drawing up a preliminary contract, which I have enclosed for your review.

I look forward to discussing this further at our next meeting.

Regards,

Dr. Duvan

I stare at the words, a sick, sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.Conditioning. Assets.They're talking about omegas like they're...things. Commodities to be bought and sold, used and discarded at will.

And the Refinement Center issupplying them. Molding innocent omegas into pliant little dolls for the amusement of the Council's so-called allies.

My father isn't just looking the other way or involved on the sidelines.

He's the one calling the fucking shots.

Bile rises in my throat, hot and acrid. I want to scream, to rage, but I can't let my father know I've seen this. Can't give him any reason to suspect I'm onto his vile little scheme.

So I take a deep, shuddering breath, and with hands that shake only slightly in rage, I snap a few pictures of the file with the analog microcam I keep stored in my tactical belt—the only way I can save evidence without it getting picked up by the Capital network—before slipping it back in the drawer where I found it.

I have to get out of here. Have to put some distance between myself and this abomination masquerading as a man. The man who raised me, who taught me everything I know about honor and duty and service.

The man who's been lying to me my entire life.

Fuck. How am I going to tell Wraith?

Their relationship is strained at best, but this is still the man who saved him all those years ago.Maybe he never loved my brother—and I doubt he ever loved me, either—but he's still our father.