Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

The only thing holding Quinn together in the week after they handed Tristan over was the fact that he was playing a key role in the omega’s rescue. A role that had him playing the ‘stud’ alpha that his ‘owners’ wanted to breed.

Ronan handled the arrangements, portraying himself as alpha of a pack with Quinn as his prized fighter. Contact was made with the breeder house through a connection Griffin had dug up. It was three days before they got a response but a meeting was quickly arranged for Quinn to go through what they called ‘screening’.

“It’s how they determine if they have a compatible omega,” Griffin explained. “They take a blood and sweat sample, to measure pheromones. I guess it also gives them a chance to suss us out. If they’re not happy, they just tell us they’ve no one compatible. Keeps things civil.”

There was no way they could take Griffin with them. As an omega, even a beta, he’d raise eyebrows. So Quinn was accompanied by Ronan and Beau. Darcy was roped in to add a few temporary tattoos to Quinn’s chest to make him look more like the fighter he was supposed to be.

The meeting took place at an out-of-the-way motel. The breeders had booked a room. When they arrived, Quinn stayed in the car with Beau while Ronan checked it out. He was back a few minutes later.

“They’re here. We’re good to go. Remember what to do?”

“Keep my mouth shut, follow instructions,” Quinn said shortly.

“Right. Any questions, let me handle them. That goes for you, too, Beau.”

“Got it, Ronan,” Beau replied.

He followed Ronan to the motel room, Beau a step behind him. He kept his gaze a little ahead but lowered. Showing deference but not cowardice.

Once he was inside the room, he listened carefully to what was said.

“Sit here,” one of the men said, indicating a chair. Quinn sat, holding himself still, his muscles tense.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” the second man said.

A patch was placed on the back of his neck, the sensation odd. He didn’t make a sound but Ronan asked the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

“What’s that for?”

“It soaks up the pheromone-laden sweat. We use that and a blood sample to check for compatibility within our available inventory.”

It took a lot for Quinn not to react when the shifter described the captive omegas as inventory.

“How long until we know the results?” Ronan asked, coming to stand next to Quinn, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be in touch in two to three days.”

“That quick?”

“The miracle of modern science. Don’t ask me how it works, I just know it does.”

“How sure are you that this mating will produce an alpha and not a beta or an omega?”

Ronan was asking all the questions an alpha about to have over a significant amount of money would be asking. The breeders weren’t fazed.

“With the drug cocktail we use, our success rate is ninety percent. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Ninety percent? Impressive.”

A tourniquet was tightened around Quinn’s arm. It was quickly followed by a pinch and the smell of blood. He watched it fill the vials with a morbid fascination before glancing away.

The pressure released. “And we’re done.”

He got to his feet and went to stand by the door, Beau by his side, while Ronan spoke to the men. Money changed hands, a deposit of sorts. And then they were back in the car heading home.

“And now we wait,” Ronan said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Waiting wasn’t a state that came naturally to Quinn. And because of the short timescale involved, Griffin couldn’t risk sending him out on even the most straightforward of contracts in case something went wrong. When the breeders called, Quinn had to be ready to move.

Each day, his worry for Tristan only grew as did his longing for the omega. He missed Tristan’s voice, his scent, the way he smiled when he caught sight of Quinn, his whole face lighting up. The thought of the omega, his omega, trapped in a dark room by people who saw him as nothing more than inventory set his blood boiling. He kept to the woods a lot, in his lion form, keeping his temper under a tight leash.

The breeders called on the third day. The first Quinn knew about it was Beau calling for him from the back door. He raced through the woods, shifting as he skidded to a stop next to the bear.

“What is it? Is it Tristan?”

“They called. They’re talking to Ronan right now. He’s in Griffin’s office. I thought you’d want to know.”

He squeezed the alpha’s shoulder in thanks and dashed upstairs, Beau on his heels.

When he stepped into Griffin’s office, he knew something was wrong. It was written in Ronan’s tense posture, the rounding of his shoulders, the angle of his bowed head. It was written in the blank mask of Griffin’s face.

“They turned us down,” he said, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

“No, they didn’t,” Griffin said, his voice hollow. “They were very clear that they had a suitable, compatible match.”

Tristan, of course. It had to be. “Okay, so when do we leave?”

“They also said it will be a minimum of a year before he’s available. We’re on a waiting list of sorts.”

Quinn tried to get his head around that. “Why would they wait a whole ye-”

And then he got it, his stomach lurching at the implication.

“We asked if there was any way to expedite it,” Ronan said. “Offered them more money if they’d bump us to the top of the queue but-”

“The client is probably from one of their own packs. They’d get priority,” Griffin said. “They offered to contact other houses for us but said the particular compatibility is rare.”

“They’ve found another alpha,” Quinn said, his mouth slower than his thoughts. “They’re- they’re going to breed him.”

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” Griffin said. “The chances were so small, I didn’t think this eventuality was a realistic risk.”

Quinn gulped in a breath, regretting it when his stomach somersaulted again.

“He doesn’t know,” he said, the realization sinking in hard. “He’ll have no idea, not until- He’ll think it’s me, he’ll think he’s safe and-”

Ronan grabbed hold of him. “Keep it together, Quinn. You’re no use to Tristan like this.”

He shoved his brother away. “I’m no use to Tristan out here when he’s stuck in there.”

Rounding on Griffin, he pushed into the omega’s space, ignoring Beau as the alpha tried to come between them.

“We need a new plan. We have to get him out of there. Now.”

Who knew how much time they had. Not enough. Never enough.