Page 78 of Unhinged Alphas

"It means," he says slowly, as if he's talking to a child, "that I know where you can find one of the Council members who's knee-deep in trafficking. A guy who'd sell out his own blood—or even his own omega—to save his skin."

"Who?" Thane presses.

"Monty Filch," Raven says, his lips curling into a smirk.

The name means nothing to me, but Thane's gaze hardens.

Raven looks far too pleased with himself, practically preening. "Monty Filch is a beta with...particulartastes. He frequents a brothel in the Outer Reaches, one that caters to those who enjoy being dominated by female alphas. His nearest and dearest kink is being stepped on—when he isn't watching alphas fucking his omega."

I can't help but snort. "A Council beta with a fetish? How cliché."

Thane's eyes tighten in disgust. "And you know when he'll be there next?"

"Three days from now, fifteen minutes before midnight. Monty Filch is nothing if not punctual," Raven says. "The place is called The Alpha's Alpha. Subtle, I know."

Thane crosses his arms. "Yeah, I've heard of it,"he mutters. "That area's crawling with mercs and lowlifes."

"Not to mention the fact that none of us exactly fit the clientele," I add dryly.

"I don't know," Thane muses. "Youarethe prettiest Ghost."

I clench my jaw, irritation prickling under my skin. "You can't be serious."

Thane's eyes crinkle behind his mask, betraying his amusement. "What's the matter, Plague? Don't think you'd look good in a dress?"

"I will poison your next meal," I growl, my hand twitching toward one of my syringes. The urge to stick him with something unpleasant is strong.

Wraith lets out a low rumble that might be laughter. Traitor.

"As entertaining as that mental image is," Raven interjects, "I doubt even Plague's considerable charms could pull off that particular deception."

I turn my glare on him. "You're still here?"

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Just offering my expert opinion. But I can see when I'm not wanted." He backs toward the door, his smirk never faltering. "Good luck, boys. You're gonna need it. Oh, and just remember… I'll be calling on you when that favor comes due."

With that, he's gone, leaving us alone in the sterile med bay.

"Fucking hell," Thane mutters, running a hand over his mask. "That wasn't exactly the intel we were hoping for."

I snort. "You mean the intel he promised? The proof he claimed to have? Yeah, I'd say this falls a bit short."

Wraith growls, his massive fists clenching and unclenching. I don't need to speak his language to know he's itching to chase Raven down and beat the information out of him.

"It's something, at least," Thane says, but his voice lacks conviction. "More than we had before."

"We should get the fuck out of here," I mutter, scanning the room one last time. "This place gives me the creeps."

Thane nods, his skull mask bobbing in the dim light. "Agreed. Let's move out."

We make our way back through the eerily silent corridors, our footsteps echoing off the bare walls. The emptiness of the outpost feels oppressive, like a physical weight pressing down on us. I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched, even though I know it's irrational.

As we step outside, the acrid smell of smoke hitsme again, even through my mask's filters. The valley below is still ablaze, the orange flames casting an otherworldly glow over everything. It's a stark reminder of how quickly things can go to shit in this fucked-up world.

We pile into the vehicle, Thane taking the wheel again. When we pull away from the outpost, I catch a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision. I whip my head around, but there's nothing there. Just shadows and smoke.

"You okay?" Thane asks, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My heart's racing, and I can feel sweat beading on my forehead beneath my mask. What the fuck is wrong with me?