vowed never to sully his brother's memory by bringing shame onto the family.
Honor. Duty. Respect. These were the values that had followed all the Forester men into the military. Unfortunately, Ransom now knew that not every soldier held to those guiding principles so tightly. He might have spent nearly a decade among betas whose own values were twisted and evil—but that didn't change what was right.
It didn't matter that the men he'd killed wore the uniform of the army in which he'd once planned to enlist. He'd barely been a man when he was taken, but since then, he'd learned that true honor had nothing to do with flags or medals.
What was strange was that Ransom could sense Gretchen's own honor and purpose. Not just because she seemed determined to carry the truth to the public. Her character was laced into her scent, but it was also somehow evident to him in her voice, her expressions, the way she moved, the things she didn't say. Ransom couldn't explain it—but even though he had known her less than twenty-four hours, he knew Gretchen Conrad down to her very bones.
Ransom was glad that she'd fallen asleep—and not just so his fantasies could run wild without being detected. She needed the rest. He could feel the pure mental and physical exhaustion emanating from her body.
And that wasn't all he could feel.
Somehow, Ransom was able to feel every part of her. Not just the surface of her skin or the slight fluctuations in her temperature, but all of her. He'd been alert to the slowing of her pulse, the steadying of her breath. He felt her heartbeat—not the sensory vibrations of it, but the actual beat. He felt it inside himself, on a level that wasn't physical or emotional or even logical—a level that simply was.
It was the same way that he knew that she wanted him.
Though Ransom knew she would never admit it out loud, he could feel it. The truth was there, beyond the faintest trace of her slick. Again, Ransom couldn't say how he knew. He simply did.
This connection between them was tangible. It went beyond attraction, beyond the adolescent pawing of his early sexual encounters and his most extravagant fantasies.
Gretchen had awakened something dormant inside him. Something he'd thought long dead. But like a phoenix, it was rising again from the hungry fire in his blood.
Fulmer may have done his worst, but it looked like he hadn't extinguished his virility after all.
'Isn't that overwhelming?" The memory of Gretchen's question came back to him.
While it was true that Ransom didn't lie, he hadn't been completely honest in his answer either. Yes, his mind could process all this new stimulation, but not as easily as he let on.
For eight years, the only human connection Ransom had experienced had been Fulmer's flunkies stabbing him with needles and delivering electric shocks for punishment. A few times, he'd been tossed a dormant omega, only to have her torn away again as soon as his touch proved harmless. He'd been separated from every other alpha, living in silence, trapped in a long, narrow holding corridor where isolation was a way of life.
All of that had changed, literally overnight.
After his escape, Ransom had spent his first hours in the open entirely focused on waiting and watching for Fulmer. Until the bastard arrived, he'd barely noticed his surroundings at all.
But when the sun rose the next morning, it seemed to ignite his senses like a lit match to a fuse. The landscape that had seemed flat and gray exploded into emerald green prairie grass, brilliant blue sky, and yellow and white wildflowers. Smells tumbled in his nose, dozens of them, from the rich soil of the gully bottom to the wild chives growing along the bank to the stench of diesel fuel from the police vehicles. He could hear their conversations, but also the tread of animals' feet in the brush and the settling of the charred ruins of the building, and the buzz of insects flitting on the surface of a pond miles away.
And there were new senses, ones he'd never known while imprisoned—like seeing in the dark. Ransom had played down the experience to Gretchen, making it sound routine, but nothing could be further from the truth.
In the lab and the housing corridor, the overhead fluorescent lights never dimmed. The only way to know day from night was by the coming and going of the beta staff.
Tonight, though, Ransom had watched the sun set through the