Nolan pressed up against Ashelin's naked back, and she hummed internally at the feel of his steel length through his pants. She knew she affected him, especially when he'd snapped at her not to look him in the eyes, but feeling the evidence digging into the small of her back was something else.

Especially because nothing with this man was accidental. He'd put it there not because he couldn't help it—he'd put it there for a reason, and whether it was to taunt her or scare her or warn her...in any case, it tightened her core, her silken walls clutching at nothing.

Desperate for the weapon of mass destruction behind her.

"I think it's both." His empty hand slipped lower. "Fear and pain. The fact that I could snap your pretty neck in two at any moment."

She tilted her head back in anticipation, his words thrumming against her in a deep vibrato as his fingers came closer and closer to her greedy pussy. She gasped when he reached it, but instead of sliding between her folds he parted them viciously, exposing her swollen clit to the cool air.

Ashelin twisted in shock, but she couldn't go far without choking herself.

"The fact that I could keep you alive and torture you for as long as I fucking please," he continued, and lowered his other hand.

In the haze of her arousal, she didn't realize what he was about to do until it was too late—though it wasn't as if she could do anything about it.

The icy spray hit her clit a split second later, and a shriek tore its way out of her throat at a pitch she'd never hit in her life. It hurt, it fucking hurt so deliciously, she wanted it to stop but never end at the same time.

She'd plunged beyond subspace at this point, somewhere deeper, somewhere dangerous, real danger, the place she'd always chased, always longed for. He had her, body and mind and soul, and she never wanted to be free again.

He dropped the hose, and her poor bundle of nerves burned in the aftershocks, especially because he continued holding her folds apart, exposing the wet flesh to the cool air.

"Are you a spy?" he growled into her ear, his breath hot.

She moaned, thighs quivering as she fought to keep from squeezing them together. Instinctually she knew this would be a bad idea, that he had her how he wanted her to stay. "No," she breathed.

Pain exploded between her legs, and from the sound of the slap she realized he'd smacked her clit outright with his strong hand. "Are you a spy?" he demanded.

"No!" she screamed, and he slapped her again, and her head fell back against him, her entire body singing, lost in waves of pleasure pain and freezing heat, heady fear and the thrum of something along every vein in her body that she couldn't describe other than pure unadulterated peace.

Nolan moaned in her ear, and then bit it off with a growl, jerking away from her as if she'd burned him.

Ashelin slumped, but blocking her airways quickly reminded her that she needed to support her own weight, and she pressed her legs together so she wouldn't have to be up on her toes. She breathed through the aftershocks of her orgasm, clit pulsing as she squeezed her thighs.

The alpha's breaths were heavy behind her.

He liked it, she knew. She was sure that if he'd given into baser instincts then he would be inside her right now, but he was too controlled for that.

She couldn't help but puff her feathers a bit that she'd managed to affect him so much. She needed to get under his skin and stay there for her to be able to complete her mission. As he caught his breath behind her, she struggled to center herself, to come down from the insane high she'd just ridden.

Her eyelashes fluttered, memories swallowing her.

Ashelin pulled the emergency brake and jerked the wheel to the left, sending the muscle car into a slide. Time slowed down in that moment, the moment of complete freedom where gravity ceased to exist.

Then the moment was over and she'd circled all the way around the roundabout, so she downshifted and punched the gas to zip back up to speed. Gaspard screeched around behind her, hot on her tail as they sped back down the 85 into Kitchener.

This was her favourite highway. It had been her favourite before the apocalypse, but now that it was void of all other vehicles it was even better for screaming around. Toronto had a lot of roads, but most of it was a straight grid. When she really wanted to fly, this was where she liked to play.

And this would be her last time playing like this for a while.

Maybe ever.

Ice pricked her spine, but she wasn't supposed to be thinking about that. As she pushed the car past two hundred kilometres per hour, she let herself go. This mission would allow her to shed so much in her life—really let herself go.

Ashelin flew past the finish line, hair whipping against her face in the wind as she skidded onto the freeway into a spectacular burnout, tires squealing in a wide arc. Gaspard screeched to a halt a moment later, shaking his head as he got out of his car.

He sauntered over, leaning casually against the back driver's side door. "You couldn't let me win this one time, eh?"

"Never." She smirked up at him, the man who had once been her alpha. Part of her would always belong to him in that way, despite them both being betas now. Despite being loyal to their alpha together. Despite what she was about to have to do.

He sighed, running his tongue over his teeth.

He didn't have to say anything. She knew how hard this was for him.

It wasn't not hard for her. She just had a big shiny carrot dangling that made the trepidation and danger worth it. That even made leaving her best friend behind worth it.

She got out of the car and snaked her arms around his taut chest. He curled around her, his dark skin rippling over cords of muscle. He rested his chin on top of her head, something he'd often done to annoy her back when they were teenagers and he sprouted so much taller than her and she'd never caught up.

"I don't want you to go," he murmured into her hair.

"I know." She couldn't lie to him, couldn't be placating. She couldn't say I don't either, or, I have to. Because he knew why she wanted to. "I'm best suited for it, though."

He took a deep breath in, and she could feel his heart hammering in his chest, punching her in the face as she pressed herself into him. His honeyed scent comforted her, the scent of home and safety.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? She didn't crave safety.

"You are." Gaspard massaged the back of her neck gently, working out the stiffness from being in the car all day. "Even if anyone else wanted to do it, they'd have to be a damn good actress. And this is too much of a bloody dangerous situation to find out if Frosaker is gullible or not."

She didn't say anything. They'd hashed all of this out already, all these arguments coming up with the other betas. She knew that Gaspard kept repeating these things to himself because it was comforting, because he was afraid for her.

It was a healthy fear, but she wanted him to be happy for her, too.

"He's not," she said. "From what I hear, he's intelligent and ruthless."

He chuckled. "Your kind of man."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and pulled back from his chest, looking up at him. He didn't often share this side with people, the serious side, the one he buried under humour and biting remarks. Nor the darker side, the one that came out to play sometimes when she felt like being a brat. She cherished that he was comfortable enough to give that to her. They'd been best friends their whole lives, had filled each other's voids when life wasn't enough.

But they both knew that they weren't enough for those voids. And she hoped that he could find someone else that he could be close enough with to let down the curtain.

Especially if Ashelin didn't make it back.

As if he'd read her mind, he caressed her jaw as he stared down at her and said, "Don't die."

Gaspard's words echoed in her head as Nolan stalked around in front of her, something glinting in his hand.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight of a blade in his deft fingers. Her breath hitched as he pressed the cold metal against her cheek, leaning down until his face was a hair's breadth away from hers.

"Watch yourself, my little siren." His voice was low, menacing, laced with warning that was as deadly as the knife threatening her flesh. "If I find you untrustworthy, I guarantee you won't enjoy how slowly I kill you."

She clenched her teeth so hard they squeaked together, and he moved the blade down her throat, collarbone, drawing the tip along her breast. She held her breath, waiting for the sting of broken flesh.

Instead, her arms tightened, and the rope criss-crossing her chest came free. It was still so tightly bound that it didn't unravel, but the cut would allow her to work herself loose.

"Eyes down at all times. Or you'll be blindfolded for every single ritual event."

The command rippled over her skin, so intense she could almost taste it. Despite her desperate need to obey, part of her wanted so badly to look him in the eyes in that moment. Those deep dark pools had made her feel things she'd never experienced before, and he must have felt it too.

She craved his power over her, but it seemed she had a power over him too. This could be handy leverage, but she had to put it in her back pocket. He was smart—he'd know she was exploiting it. She either had to be subtle, or save it for when there was no other choice.

He turned away from her, his shoulders rippling beneath his shirt. He walked out of the car wash bay, and stopped, hesitating, standing at his full impossible height. She thought he was going to say something more, but he didn't, stalking off towards the exit.

Ashelin let out a deep breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Cold settled in her gut, and it was as if her body remembered it had been freezing. She wriggled her arms, and pins and needles began to prick them as she freed them from the position they'd been held in for days.

Her shoulders screamed as she let her hands fall to her sides, and she hissed as she tried to stretch them out in front of her but they refused to work. The ropes pooled at her feet and she waited patiently for enough blood to circulate through her arms so she could unclip her collar.

Nobody removes your ropes but me, Nolan had said, and technically he had been the one to do it by cutting them open for her to free herself. She imagined a scenario in which he'd peeled them from her body and helped her blood get pumping, but she would take the use of her hands as she could get it, especially with the first event happening the next morning.

Her stomach growled, and as if on cue, Bo came around the corner holding a piping hot dinner roll.

"I did not think you would be in one piece," he said as he unclipped her collar.

She offered him a tired smile. "I'm pretty resilient."

So she managed to make it out alive and unscathed! What do you think about Nolan ordering her to keep her eyes down at all times?

Want to read the rest? If you have some Radish coins burning a hole in your pocket, this book is available in full over there (search ESHurricane to find me!), or you can read it all PLUS my whole backlist AND early chapters for book two AND bonus scenes on my Patreon! www.patreon.com/EmilySHurricane

Thank you so much for reading! <3