Theodore wasn’t expecting much, but he definitely expected longer than Kilian lasted, and he sighed as he got up to take his turn next. Isobel stole his seat as soon as he stood, as though she needed to give Kilian a break, and he tried to tamp down on the rush of satisfaction it gave him.

Not because Kilian would be disappointed—he couldn’t begrudge Kilian needing physical contact all the time, that was just who he was, even if Theodore found it endlessly infuriating to have his bergamot and bark scent saturating Isobel.

It was more to do with the illogical urge to claim and possess. Isobel belonged in his chair because she belonged to him.

Stop. Fucking hell, just stop.

He stalked off and burst into the garden shed ready for a fight. Oscar chuckled as he closed the door behind him, throwing them into darkness.

“You make it too easy, Theo.” Oscar turned on his phone’s flashlight, setting it beside his thigh. He was sitting on one of the workbenches, looking like he had already won the game.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Theodore plastered on a wide smile. “You didn’t try to make out with Kilian, did you? He practically ran back.”

“If I had, he’d be running for a cold shower. Why do you ask? Jealous I might have seduced both of your best friends?”

“You didn’t seduce Isobel. The chains hypnotised her.”

Oscar didn’t feel like antagonising Theodore. The younger Alpha was just too … amenable. He kept a cool head with Oscar seconds away from stealing two of his fingers and hadn’t even let out a squeak when Oscar had broken them. Or tried to come after him.

Theodore didn’t sulk the next day or try to take the issue to Kalen or Mikel. He continued like nothing had happened, smiling and joking around like the infuriatingly good-natured person he was.

Oscar sighed, pinching his nose. This was why he preferred Moses. The moody fuck was always up for a fight.

“Leave now,” he expelled on a short breath, “and I won’t unleash chaos the second she steps through that door.”

“Deal.” Theodore spun on his heel and yanked the door open, disappearing immediately.

Oscar leaned back, his head thumping against the wall, his fingers tapping agitatedly against his thigh. He would have just left and refused to play the game at all, but movie night was non-negotiable. Kalen had made that clear.

He wanted to get them in front of a camera. It was time they started stepping things up so that the fans had them firmly in their thoughts over the break.

Isobel walked into the shed, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her eyes skirting all around him but refusing to actually look at him.

“What did you do to the others?” she asked, finally lifting her gaze to his.

He licked his lips, shifting forward to notch his forearms against his thighs. “I sat here and didn’t move a muscle. Come closer.”

“No.”

“Why not?” He smirked at her. “I just want to see your chain.”

She took deliberately slow steps toward him, probably trying to drag out the three minutes. “Why is everyone so scared of you, Sato?”

“Because they know what’s good for them.” He coiled forward when she was close enough, catching the neckline of her dress and dragging her between his legs until she was pressed up against the bench, dirtying the pale fabric that drifted against her skin like the lightest, softest tease.

Her rich-girl clothes did his head in.

He hated that he could sell one of her dresses and fill up his sister’s account at the commissary for the next three months, and he hated how beautiful she looked draped in small fortunes. He still remembered the slide of her silky, rich-girl pyjamas beneath his rough hands.

He quickly released her, gripping the edge of the bench to control the urge to rip and tear until she was just as poor and filthy as he was.

“Show it to me.” He tried to frame it as a suggestion, but it rolled off his tongue as a husky command, and his gut tightened at the way her hands lifted instinctively, tugging down her neckline as much as she could, revealing only the top of the chain.

“What did Niko tell you?” she asked quietly.

He wanted to touch the chain. It was his chain, after all, but he couldn’t trust himself. The Sigma was slowly driving him insane, and he had yet to figure out if he had been obsessed with her since his first taste on the rooftop of the chapel, or if he was secretly wishing he had never saved her in the first place.

“He said it happened suddenly,” he grunted, staring at the tiny gold links embedded smoothly into her skin, looking like they had always been a part of her. “It made its way to your chest, hooking into your skin, and then healed you. You’re lucky the bond didn’t complete.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she whispered. “Maybe it doesn’t count because it’s a soul artefact? I mean Teak said the bond can’t force me, and if an artefact marks me and completes the bond for me, well … that’s forcing …”

She nibbled on her lip, her mind drifting away. It was only a moment when her attention wasn’t on him, but it was enough to snap his control, to draw his hands from the bench.

Except she wasn’t there anymore.

She had disappeared and reappeared against the shed door, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her face painted in confusion, her breath a rasp through her pink lips.

Isobel gasped as a pinprick of heat dug into her chest. Sato was already off the bench, already standing before her, his brows heavy with confusion. “Did you just teleport?”

“I … don’t know. It didn’t feel like a teleport.” She tugged down the top of her dress again, staring at the chain—or more specifically, at the tiny little gemstone that had materialised half an inch from the top of the chain. It was yellowed amber, a light, leering gold that reminded her of the winking eye of a prowling beast.

“What does that mean?” Sato’s voice was quiet and rough, spilling over her temple as he leaned over her, staring down her dress.

“I don’t know,” she muttered distractedly, trying to figure out what had just happened. “Everything just … blurred. Like time turned backwards, and then I was back here again.” She spread her arms, looking at the door.

Sato reached past her, yanking the door open and calling for the cameraman who stood nearby. “How much time is left?”

“Uh …” The confused reply drifted over. “I mean … she just walked in there? I only just started the timer—”

Sato closed the door, cutting off the man’s response. He drew her away from the door before releasing her and sucking in a sharp breath, his eyes drifting back to the front of her dress.

“Kalen,” he breathed. “That’s Kalen’s power.”

Isobel blanched. “What?”

“It’s a side effect. You’re borrowing power—fuck, you could get Theo’s, or Moses’, or mine, or—”

“I knew you had an illegal ability. What is it?” It was easier to cling to facts than to let the panic sink in.

She could go feral.

His attention snapped to her face, his expression darkening. “You want something from me, Isobel?” His hand landed on her neck suddenly, his thumb stroking up the column of her throat. “Give me something first.”

His touch reminded her of when he had gripped her neck while thrusting his tongue viciously into her mouth.

“And then you’ll tell me?” She couldn’t help swallowing.

He felt it. His lips twitched, his grip tightening slightly. “If it’s worth it.”

“I … don’t have any secrets.”

“Well at least you’re getting better at lying.” His grin curved a little further, his canines catching on his bottom lip like he was trying to bite it back. “Let’s start with what else happened with Niko.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanted to know what he said. That means there was more he could have said.”

She considered him, realising she was leaning into his hold … but Sato had already offered to surrogate for her, so at least he wouldn’t be insulted by her body’s reaction to him.

“I think I learned my lesson spilling secrets,” she finally said.

He was already shaking his head. “That’s not how it works. Secrets suffocate and die in Dorm A. Spilling them to outsiders is what will get you killed.”

“Fine.” She shrugged. “But only because you obviously know all about it. Whatever happened to you in the hotel, it happened to Niko in the bathroom when the chain dug into my skin.”

Sato grew very still, his voice lowering to a low, grating timbre. “Niko surged? What did he do?”

“Nothing really.” She looked down, busying herself by trying to brush off the line of dust along the front of her dress. “Just got really still … and licked, um … the chain.”

“Have you showered?” he asked, his tone suddenly neutral.

“No?” She pulled her head back a little, trying to read his expression.

“I don’t want his fucking saliva on your skin.” His casual tone broke, a growl riding his words. “I’ll tell you what my ability is if you let me erase it.”

“Why?” She was shivering, goosebumps popping up all over her skin at the feel of his influence pushing through her.

His oleander scent was smoking and burning, his emotion a slow crawl of poisonous mist, seeping possessive fury into her pores until she was wearing him like a cloak.

“Because either you let me erase him, or I go back to the stage and cut out his tongue on live television,” Sato whispered in his broken, husky voice, his eyes pools of soft darkness.

She swallowed, but it was painful, her throat threatening to close up in panic. “That’s not funny, Sato.”

“Isobel,” he breathed, leaning down until his face was an inch from hers. “I’m not joking.”

“You’re scaring me.” She tried to side-step him, but he followed, backing her into the workbench.

“You’re lying,” he returned quietly. “I know what you smell like when you’re scared of me. I even know what you taste like when you’re scared of me.”

She pushed against his chest, but instead of it shifting him, it shifted her, the world blurring around her again as her back suddenly hit the door.

Sato turned, still standing by the workbench, a slow, dangerous smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “You aren’t reversing time for me,” he said, wiping a hand over his mouth to erase the emotion on his face, leaving his expression carefully thoughtful. “Only everyone else.”

“Kalen is that powerful?” she squeaked, her heartbeat thundering. She was holding that power inside her? Why couldn’t she feel it? Other than the warm prickle against her chest where the gemstone had appeared, she couldn’t feel anything at all.

In fact … even the prickle seemed to have faded.

She pulled her neckline down again, realising that the yellow gemstone was no longer glinting and leering, the colour fading to a normal, dulled amber.

“Time’s up,” Sato suddenly said, appearing before her, his eyes on the gemstone. “No more rewinds. Turn around, Carter.”

She obeyed before she could really think it through, and by then, it was too late. The second she bared her back to him, he was working on the concealed zipper of her dress, tugging it all the way down to her waist. He spun her around again, the dress still in place, though it hung awkwardly off her shoulders now.

He seemed restless all of a sudden, his hands disappearing into his pockets, the material bunching as he formed tight fists and shifted his weight, teetering on some kind of action that he ultimately held himself back from, rocking back as his dark eyes swept over her.

“What is this?” she asked, curling her fists around the thin straps of the dress. “Why do you need to do this?”

“Cian told us you’re seeing dead people.” He sucked in a deep breath, his restless gaze finally settling on her face. “And I know you saw my dad. What did he tell you, hm? Did he tell you nice things? Good things?”

“He told me you would hurt me. He said that other Alphas try to hide their animal side, but he taught you to embrace yours.”

Sato’s expression tightened, and his shock pierced her chest before he managed to rein in the emotion.

“That’s right.” He brushed a finger down her clenched knuckles, almost teasing them into relaxing and releasing her grip on the straps. His influence was confusing, his oleander scent cloying, so sweet and seductive. She had to clear away the fog of it all and remind herself quite forcefully that Sato was dangerous.

“I’m not all there.” He tapped against the side of his own head. “I have impulses, and they’re difficult to control. You’re supposed to belong to me, and my impulse is to claim you in every way possible, even though I don’t want you. I refuse to share. I refuse to be told who to mate with, who to belong to. But the impulse …” He gripped her hands, guiding them away, and then he slipped his fingers beneath the straps of her dress and tugged them down over her arms. “You didn’t get lucky with me, Carter. I’m your curse now. You’re going to have to learn to live with me the same way I’m learning to live with you.”

“How exactly are you learning to live with me?” She sounded breathless as the top half of her dress fell away, catching at her waist. It revealed her thin, lacy bralette and the entire length of the gold chain embedded into her skin.

“I’m compromising,” he said, his eyes still fixed on hers, even as his hand drifted to the chain, the back of his fist pressing against the bottom of it, just below her bra, forcing her to lean more heavily into the door. “I gave you options, didn’t I? A peaceful one, and a fun one.”

“Why bother if this isn’t fun?” She hadn’t meant to sound snarky, but something in her tone carried a hint of sharpness, and his eyes glittered in a brief flash of humour before dropping from her face to survey the chain.

Or her boobs.

It was hard to tell.

“You’re right.” He bent down and grabbed her hips. “I only consider options I like.”

He curled his fingers into her bralette as he pressed the flat of his tongue against her skin, right at the bottom of the chain. He lifted, dragging his tongue to the middle of her chest as he yanked his fist back, tearing her bralette so that his journey to her clavicle would be unbroken. He shoved her into the door as he licked all the way up to her neck, pausing at her ear as he pressed the length of his body into hers.

He was breathing heavily, and she wasn’t breathing at all.

She had gripped fistfuls of his jacket sleeves, trying to pull him in tighter, her body soaking up the heat and comfort of him being so deliciously close. Sato wasn’t someone she thought she could ever find comfort in, but her half-formed bond didn’t care. It was reminding her that she had felt hollow for weeks, starved of all the love and devotion her mates should have been showering her with—

Hold up, what the heck?

“You bled.” He growled the words against her throat, his body vibrating. “He tasted your blood, didn’t he?”

Before she could react, his teeth were grazing the skin of her neck, just below her ear. She froze, her breath a raw scrape. “Don’t.”

“You’re mine,” he muttered against her skin.

“I can’t let you.”

“Why, baby?” He purred the words in her ear, so un-Sato-like that her eyes fluttered closed and a rush of heat pooled low in her belly, forcing her to clamp her legs together.

Holy crap, he needed to never do that again.

“I can’t belong to any of you,” she squeaked as he pulled back slightly, his Alpha ring swollen, his expression tight as his nostrils flared. “There are ten of you. It’ll never work.”

He gripped her hips, drawing her tight to his body. “I can smell how much you want me to do something.”

“It’s the bond.”

“Lie,” he snarled, pushing her back into the door. “Time’s almost up, little rabbit. My ability is chaos. I cause it. Thrive off it. Can’t live without it. Stay if you want a taste. Leave if you’re scared.”

She surveyed his face, her mind turning over at his admission. Chaos suited him. So did the glint in the darkness of his gaze, telling her that he wanted her to leave.

He wanted her scared of him.

And suddenly, her connection to Sato made sense. She did want a taste of chaos, but she didn’t want to admit it. And he wanted to chase, to hunt, to force it out of her.

He couldn’t hide the need even if he tried. It was in every line of his expression. It was in his cloying perfume as it both warned her away and tried to cajole her closer. It was in the dark thump of his emotion against her chest.

She had never felt an Alpha’s need before, because need wasn’t usually a negative thing, a dark thing.

Until Sato.

His need was pushing against her like all the other dark, dirty sentiments people didn’t want to keep.

They complimented each other, in that way.

Her breath hitched, her head suddenly dizzy with the realisation, but she was no closer to having any idea what to do about it. Sato stirred up something dark and wrong inside her, a kind of morbid curiosity that made her want to cover her eyes and bare her neck, hoping for the best.

But that was suicidal.

She looked down at the torn lace still covering her chest. “What do I do?”

“Go without,” he suggested, knowing she wasn’t talking about the scraps of lace that were barely covering her nipples. “Take the rest off. I couldn’t give a fuck about movie night.”

She gave him a wry smile, even though it didn’t look like he was joking. “You’re terrifying.”

“And you’re quite literally tempting fate.” He tugged on the frayed edges of her bralette, hastily tying them in the smallest knot before he sucked in a deep breath and took several steps back from her. “How much did that cost?”

“I don’t know. My father’s team has been organising my wardrobe.”

He wiped a hand over his mouth. “Sleep in my room tonight.”

She laughed hollowly. “What would be left of me in the morning?”

His eyes flared, like he thought she meant something different, and his voice was husky when he spoke again.

“You’ve slept with me before. I’m one of your surrogates. You clearly need a surrogate right now.”

“I haven’t slept with you alone, and nobody knows that we shared a bed on tour except Cian.”

“Bring a friend.” His grin was humourless. Lethal. “We’ll call it a sleepover.”

“Is this some kind of ploy? You guys don’t want to leave me in Dorm O with Eve back?”

“Don’t speak the name of the dead girl,” he growled roughly.

“That’s not an answer.”

He ran a hand along the back of his neck, and then shrugged. “Yes, it’s a ploy. It was supposed to be Theodore’s ploy. I just don’t want to break his fingers again, so I’m asking you first.”

“What?” She peered at his face, trying to find even the slightest spark of humour. There was nothing. “What the hell?”

“He had his fingers inside what was mine.”

“I’m not yours!” She advanced on him but held herself back right before she could shove against his chest.

“You smell like mine. You taste like mine. You even sound like mine when you’re trying to insist you aren’t mine.” He leaned down, planting his cold expression a few inches from hers, his attention on her dishevelled clothes. “You definitely look like mine right now.”

She quickly pulled her dress back into position, twisting her arm behind her back to yank up her zipper. He watched, cool and calm, and then he brushed past her, pulling open the door.

“Glad we sorted that out,” he said, before striding out.

She gave a shaky smile to the cameraman who flashed his phone screen at her enthusiastically, probably trying to show her that she had lasted more than three minutes, but she couldn’t focus on him as she made her way back to the stage. The second she saw Kilian, she felt her whole body relaxing, and she wanted to hurry right over to him, but then Theodore caught her attention, a question in his stormy eyes as he ran them over her, checking that she was okay. She wondered if she could cuddle up in his lap the way she did with Kilian.

Of course not, she immediately chided herself. He might have privately offered to help her ease her bond, but publicly, he had a girlfriend. Even though people probably guessed that he was surrogating for her, it would likely become a problem if they started flaunting it.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile as she approached Kilian’s seat, his hand already held out for her. He pulled her back into his lap, and she fought the urge to melt back into him completely, wary of the camera.

“Well?” Moses leaned forward in his chair, his eyes dancing between Sato and her. “That was definitely more than three minutes. How’d you do it, Carter?”

“He just really wanted to talk about his feelings,” she said, forcing her expression to appear unbothered. “Literally wouldn’t shut up. He’s a real chatterbox when you get him alone.”

Most of the Alphas laughed and she shrank back against Kilian, avoiding the heat of Sato’s stare. Kilian pulled his phone out in front of them, navigating to a blank message screen.

Okay? he typed out.

She pulled the phone closer to reply. Will you stay with me tonight?

“Mhmm,” he rumbled against the side of her head, dipping his head in a nod.

In Sato’s room, she added.

He stiffened behind her, a short, astounded laugh falling out of him. “Ah, okay …”

“Hey, you two?” Cian nudged Kilian. “Care to share with the class?”

“She’s just making arrangements for tonight,” Sato stated calmly. And loudly. In front of the cameras.

“What?” Theodore looked down the line of chairs.

“She’s getting sick again. She needs a surrogate … but she’s worried about rumours.” He flipped his hood up again, leaning back with his arms crossed like that was all the explaining he needed to do.

In a way, it was … a smart approach. Explaining things up front for the cameras. “Um, yeah.” She cleared her throat nervously. “I thought … I thought if it was Sato and Kilian, the fans would know it’s not anything romantic, right?”

“Because Oscar’s idea of romance is—” Theodore cut himself off, smirking before apparently revising his statement. “—not a discussion for polite society.”

Sato scoffed quietly.

Gabriel sucked in breath through his teeth, waving his phone. “The fans are asking if you have your pick of the Alphas to surrogate because it really looks like you have your pick of the Alphas to surrogate.”

Isobel didn’t have to force her laugh. It tumbled out naturally. “No,” she said, another chuckle passing her lips. “Sato’s offer to surrogate was terrifying and there’s no way it was genuine. I asked the Alphas because their energy is the most potent. I was rejected by several of them. Quite brutally, in some cases. I absolutely do not have ‘my pick’ of Alphas. They’re just … decent guys, and they’ve offered to help. Just a few of them.”

“There you have it.” Theodore tossed his hands up like the matter was settled. “We’re a bunch of saints, just as I always suspected. Pity the movie finished already.” He pointed to the credits now rolling on the big screen. “You’re going to have to wait until the next movie night for us to prove it.”

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