Chapter 32

Declan’s POV

I prefer working in the early morning hours when the rest of the world is asleep. There’s something soothing about the world around 3 and 4 am. Nothing is due that early. All the bars are closed, the coffee shops not yet open. It feels like a stolen, frozen moment.

I also enjoy how very quiet it is. As I sit at my desk in my office, I swear I can hear every creak in the estate. There isn’t a mouse who could enter this building at that time without me being aware of it.

So when I hear footsteps sneaking around, I’m instantly suspicious. A burglar won’t be fool enough to break into this house, and likely couldn’t, given our security. Whoever is sneaking around is someone who already has permission to be here.

Silently, I stand from my desk and enter the hallway, I move to the stairwell and muffle my footsteps as I make my way down. Sticking to the shadows, I remain practically invisible as I exit into the main hall.

There, I see Ollie pushing an envelope into the stack of outgoing mail by the door.

Many questions enter my mind. Why is she up at this hour? But more importantly, perhaps, why is she sneaking her mail into the pile, especially at this time of night?

Whatever she is sending has to be something she doesn’t want to draw attention to.

I think of stepping out of the shadows and scolding her. I can imagine the shock on her face at seeing me, and the way she would squirm nervously, desperate to protect whatever it is she’s hiding.

I could probably get it out of her if I had just a few minutes alone with her. I would strip her down and –

What am I thinking?

I put a sudden halt to those thoughts. Ollie is an Omega, and a liar besides. She is not worthy of my notice let alone my pleasurable punishments. The fact that I even thought of it for a moment disgusts me.

It must be what she’s wearing that has me on edge. A thin t-shirt and no bra. The shirt clings to her chest, showing off her perfect tits.

That a woman so lowly could be given such a hot body had to be a crime.

Gods, what is wrong with me? I must need a cold shower, or more time at the dungeon club. A willing little sub would be just the thing to soothe me right about now.

But that will come later. For now, I wait as Ollie scurries back into the servants’ stairwell. Once I hear her footsteps reach the bottom floor, I move forward. I come through the mail, looking for the letter she placed here.

Then I find it. This is no letter. It’s a university application, for… Nightheart pack?

My vision goes red around the edges.

In my room, I pace until I hear my brothers wake. Well, Conrad and Wes wake. Hugh finally returns home. Then I call them all into the main living room for us to have a discussion.

“A meeting already?” Hugh says as he flops on the couch. He came home and showered, but it’s clear from the love bites peeking out from under his collar what he’s been up to all night. “We just took the job. Surely there’s some kind of grace period.”

“This isn’t Alpha business,” I tell him flatly. “It’s family business.”

That perks Conrad who finally looks up from his morning coffee. “What kind of family business?”

Wes rubs the sleep from his eyes. Unlike the others, he’s still in his pajamas, his bedhead sticking up in every direction.

I hand the opened application to Conrad. “I found this in the outgoing mail. I saw who placed it there.”

Conrad sets aside his coffee and takes the paperwork from me. Immediately, his disposition sours. He glares at the papers like they personally offended him.

I know the feeling.

“You saw her leave this?” Conrad asks.

“Yes. There’s no mistake.”

“What?” Hugh asks, leaning forward. “What is it?”

“Ollie is applying to a university in Nightheart pack,” Conrad says flatly.

“What?” Hugh straightens.

Wes seems to wake up more, blinking his eyes wide. “The tundra pack? What for?”

“They accept Omegas from other packs,” I tell them. I’ve already researched, and this is the only reasoning I could find.

I am angry about this more than I thought I would be. More than I should be. I don’t know why I care so much about this. Why should it matter if Ollie leaves the pack? She could move to the middle of the ocean and it wouldn’t affect my life in the slightest.

Yet… it unnerves me. It makes me want to break something.

Instead, I stand carefully still as the fury pulses through my veins instead. Those who know me best would know that when I’m this still, I’m at my most dangerous.

My brothers don’t care though. They seem caught up in their own anger.

Hugh hops from the couch and starts pacing. “She has some nerve!”

Wes shakes his head. “I told her to leave the decision making to us. This goes directly against my command.”

Conrad crinkles the application where he holds it, his grip tightening. “She did not come to us to ask permission to leave the pack, despite everything we’ve done for her. The disrespect is unforgiveable…”

“It can’t be allowed,” Hugh adds.

“It won’t be,” I tell them. I snatch the application from Conrad’s grasp and tear it up into tiny little pieces.

Even then, watching the pieces fall harmlessly to the ground, I still don’t feel satisfied.

“She needs to learn a lesson,” Wes says.

Conrad looks at Wes. “Then we teach her one.”

Ollie’s POV

With exams coming up, when I’m not in class, I spend nearly every waking moment trapped in my room, studying.

Sex with Hugh has recharged me enough that I overall feel pretty great, so it’s easy to get lost in the textbooks as the hours tick by.

When I finally look up from my studies, I realize its 9pm and my stomach is growling.

I really have studied the day away. Sneaking out of my room, I head up to the kitchen where I hope there’s some leftovers from dinner that I can partake of.

The light is still on in the kitchen, but I don’t think anything of it. Sometimes the servants work late, either preparing tomorrow’s meals or cleaning up. I actually prefer one of them to be in there, so I can ask permission for a plate of leftovers and it won’t be a surprise to them in the morning when something’s missing.

Unfortunately, as I push through the swinging door into the kitchen, I don’t see the servants prepping or cleaning.

I see Conrad sitting at the kitchen island eating from a bowl of cut up fruits. He’s reading a book, but he looks up as I enter. Seeing me, his eyes narrow.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, but my stomach answers for me, growling fiercely at the sight of the fruit. Especially the strawberries, as those are my favorite.

Conrad looks at the food, then up at me again. A look of repulsion covers his face. If I wasn’t so hungry, I would have gone running.

“You skipped dinner,” he says. It’s more statement than question. “Did you want to pass out again?”

“No,” I answer.

He grunts. “Then get in here and sit down.”