Page 34 of Unhinged Alphas

The receptionist blanches. The threat is clear. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

She scurries off, disappearing through a set of double doors. I pace the lobby, my agitation growing with each passing second. Every instinct screams at me to tear this place apart, to rip back the veneer of civility and expose the rot beneath.

But I can't. Not yet. I need to play this smart, to gather as much information as I can before I make my move.

The doors open and Emilia strides out, a polite smile plastered across her face. Her features are even more taut and shiny than usual, as if her bun is on too tight. But the annoyance simmering beneath the surface is visible in the extra tightness around her eyes and mouth.

"Commander Hargrove," she says, her voice dripping with false warmth. "What an unexpected pleasure. I apologize for the delay, but I'm afraid you caught me quite by surprise."

"I'm sure," I say, not bothering to hide the edgein my voice. "ButI'mafraid this couldn't wait. I have some concerns about the omega you sent to my pack."

Emilia's smile falters, a flicker of unease passing over her features. "Concerns? I don't understand. Ivy was one of our most... challenging cases, but I assure you, we did everything in our power to prepare her for life with an alpha pack."

Challenging.The word makes my blood boil, my fingers itching to wrap around her throat andsqueeze. But I force myself to take a deep breath, to keep my expression carefully neutral.

"She's not settling in as well as we'd hoped," I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. But the less satisfied these people think I am, the less risk there is of them reporting back to the Council that they can use her against me. That they can threaten to take her away as a means of keeping me on a tight leash. "She's withdrawn. I was hoping you could give me some insight into her background, help me understand her better."

Emilia's brow furrows, a calculating gleam entering her eye. "I see. Well, to be perfectly honest, she should have been sent to a breeding facility years ago. She's clearly not cut out for life as a pack omega."

Abreeding facility.The thought is almost enough to unravel what's left of my control. Let them try. I'll burn this fucking country to the dirt.

They'll wish they hadn't survived the nukes.

But I can't let it show. Can't let her see the fury and revulsion churning inside me. So I force a smile, a brittle, empty thing that feels like it might crack my face in two.

"I don't think that will be necessary," I say, keeping my voice carefully even. "We're not giving up on her just yet. In fact, I was hoping you could give me a tour of the facility. I'm afraid my knowledge of omega conditioning is somewhat… lacking."

Emilia blinks, clearly taken aback by the request. But then she smiles, a sharp, predatory grin that makes it clear appealing to her inflated ego is the right move.

"Of course, Commander. I would be more than happy to show you around. Please, follow me."

She turns and strides off, her heels clicking against the marble floor. I fall into step beside her, my hands clasped behind my back to hide the way they tremble with barely suppressed rage. Hopefully none of the Nightingales notice I'm gripping my own wrist to the point of making the bones creak.

Better than wrapping my hands around that pencil neck.

Emilia leads me through the facility, pointing out the various amenities and programs designed to "rehabilitate" the omegas in their care. There are classrooms and dormitories, exercise yards and recreation areas. Even a swimming pool. But beneath the veneer of normalcy, I can sense the underlying wrongness, the subtle cues that betray the true nature of this place.

The omegas we pass are eerily quiet, their movements stiff and robotic. They keep their eyes downcast, their hands clasped demurely in front of them. The few in the pool are gathered at the edges instead of swimming, resting their arms on the side and staring off into space.

And this place is crawling with guards. Armed and watchful, their gazes tracking our every move. They're not even bothering to hide it.

"As you can see, Commander, we take the care and well-being of our charges very seriously," Emilia says in a forced sincere tone that wouldn't be remotely convincing even if I didn't know the truth now. "Every aspect of their lives is carefully monitored and controlled, from their diet and exercise totheir social interactions and educational programming."

Controlled.The word makes me sick. I think of Ivy, of the fierce, defiant spirit that still shines through despite everything she's endured. The thought of that light being snuffed out, of her being reduced to just another empty shell...

I'm going to kill this bitch today, aren't I?

But I force myself to nod, to make the appropriate indicators of interest and approval as Emilia drones on. I can't let her suspect my true motives, can't give her any reason to doubt my loyalty to the Council and their twisted agenda.

Big picture, Thane. Big fucking picture.

"It's very impressive," I say through my teeth, wishing I could be as good an actor as Valek. Faking shit has never been one of my strengths. "But Ivy didn't spend most of her time up here, did she? I'd like to see the lower level."

Emilia immediately stiffens at the suggestion. Maybe even she has some shame about how Ivy was treated here under her watch, but I doubt it.

"Of course," she says uncomfortably. "Follow me."

We make our way down to the lower levels, the air growing colder and more stagnant with eachstep. Emilia's demeanor shifts, her false cheer giving way to a tense, wary silence. I can sense her unease, the way her shoulders tighten and her steps falter as we approach a heavy, reinforced door.