The Ruthless Young Master, Kept After His Fall - Chapter 2

The man was clearly pleased with his payment.

The thick pectoral muscle beneath my palm suddenly flexed, turning hard as stone.

A dark flicker of jealousy went through me. Those were the kind of top-tier pecs I should have developed—not the little white buns on my chest that only seemed to be getting softer.

I yanked my hand back out of his pocket in a huff.

Oblivious to my envy, he praised me. “Generous boss.”

Then he shifted me into one arm and got to work.

At first the scum tried threats, then bribes. After that came the pleas, until all that remained were screams, one after another without pause.

The sound put me in an excellent mood. I peacefully lost consciousness in the grip of my heat, without a shred of the shame Omegas were apparently supposed to feel.

I had even prepared myself to be temporarily marked by this unknown Alpha. Omegas in heat were fragile, after all. Too much sex could kill one; none at all could do the same.

And since my presentation was not yet complete, sex wasn’t an option. Suppressants might interfere with the process. That left only a temporary mark.

It was probably pleasant. I’d seen it done before.

So I did not expect pain to wake me.

Before I passed out, I had felt as if I were roasting over a fire. Now it was as if needles of ice had grown inside my marrow and were piercing outward through bone, blood vessels, and flesh.

The back of my neck hurt worst of all.

Had my gland rotted away?

I struggled to open my eyes—and met the gaze of the man looking down at me.

He smiled. “Young Master.”

That voice…

Without betraying anything, I let my gaze travel lower.

Just as I thought.

Damn him. He was even more built than I’d imagined.

I looked up again. The man had a rugged face and amber eyes like a wild beast’s. No matter how polite he pretended to be, no one could lower their guard around him.

Black gloves covered his hands. An empty syringe was still caught between his fingers, a trace of pale blue liquid clinging to the barrel.

My stomach dropped. “What did you inject me with?”

He blinked. “Just a little stimulant to wake you up.”

An obvious lie.

I was about to explode when I spotted a tattoo at the side of his neck.

He tilted his head, revealing the whole black serpent. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

The insignia of the Black Mamba Pirates, perennial members of both the Federation’s and the Empire’s ten-most-wanted lists.

…I’d fallen straight into a den of thieves.

An electronic voice came from the corner.

“He’s awake. Can I inspect the merchandise now?”