Sat on all fours, punching his chest in a desperate attempt to force his lungs to regulate them with pure air, Claus couldn't stop the crippling feeling of guilt. Was Luther dead? Nobody could survive that amount of toxic pheromones. However, only omegas could spread flowery pheromones, so why did they affect Luther? An omega couldn't attack another with pheromones in that way. What exactly was Sanchez?
Sanchez got out after a half hour, holding tightly the limp body of Luther. His face grimacing in a twisted expression of frustration. He threw a short glance at Claus - who was lying down the withered weed outside, with bloodshot eyes that were pouring tears uncontrollably while his chest was moving dramatically in an up-down motion.
"Pathetic" thought Sanchez.
Claus barely saw the silhouette of the man carrying the hanging body of his childhood best friend. A cloud of panic poured down on Claus's mind. He crawled panicked, dragging himself by digging his fingernails down in the soft muddy ground until he could grab Sanchez's pants, dirtying them to the alpha's dissatisfaction. He kicked the pathetic CEO of Greenleaf with his brand-new leather shoe, causing a drop of blood to leak down it theatrically.
Claus fell over, holding his bloody mouth with one hand, the other still holding the other man's trousers. Without noticing the pain of his torn limp and now chipped tooth, he looked desperately at Sanchez.
-Is he dead? he sobbed.
-Fuck, man, how pathetic could you get? scoffed Sanchez. Do I look like I would clean up bodies myself? Plus, why the fuck do you care?
-You promised…
-I said I would try to keep him alive. I didn't even begin to do my part of the deal. Why are you being such a wuss over it? You survived it.
-But I wasn't a toxic omega.
-It's too late to regret now. Get the fuck up, clean yourself and prepare yourself for tomorrow's day at work. Hell will break loose.
-What's gonna happen to him now?
-Whatever I do with my pet for the next five years is not your goddamn business. After I'm done, you can get him back and play house with him, but until then you better stay where you belong, blondie. At my fucking feet.
Sanchez threw Luther's body in the back of his black car with a careless movement, causing the omega to hit his head on the car's door. After that, he got into the driver's seat and left, leaving a bloody mess of Claus crying and puking on the ground.
He took a moment to breathe. He never meant to endanger Luther. He wanted him to be free and Sanchez was the only one who could offer him that. He never imagined this would happen.
"It's all my fault. It's my fault"
In his pain-blind state, he rang Killian's number. The line was occupied so he left a message.
-Killian, he whispered in an unsteady shaking voice, he got Lu. It's my fault and he got Lu. He's not dead yet, but he'll kill him. Please do something… he's gonna kill him and I can't do anything. Please save him… I'm begging you.
He broke up in a heart-tearing cry before passing out on the dry muddy lawn. He'll have no recollection of this call, but hell will freeze sooner than Sanchez expected because of it.
The person holding Killian's line was Damian. Ever since Greenleaf found out about the new drug, Killian did everything he could to prove his sister wasn't the leak. The fact that Luther didn't call for almost two days now, didn't help at all.
-No, Killian, I can't! refused Damian.
-It's not a favor I'm asking, it's an order!
-You know I only take favors from Lucrezia, scoffed the omega.
-If I don't find out who is, your precious boss might lose her precious "daughter". And if she found out you were a bystander, I assure you, you'd wish you could live as a "weed in a garden"
-ALL YOU DID WAS TORTURE AND THREATEN AND I'VE COVERED UP FOR YOU!
-I have to find out who the mole is. And you need me to fuck you. We're both gaining something out of it.
-Fuck you, Killian. I'm done.
-Sure. See you at your next heat, weed! growled Killian into his phone.
His foul mood was life-threatening for all those around you. He did whatever he could to gain information, but nobody knew anything. Nobody seemed to betray him. That meant Clara was the one who leaked the recipe for the new drug.
He analyzed the situation over and over. If he confronted her, she would deny it. If he would go to Lucrezia, either he or Clara would end up dead. If he took matters into his own hands and helped her escape, they would both be killed. He couldn't help cover this up. It's either his life or his sister's.
He needed to escape this for a while. He needed a step back to see the bigger image. He needed to get laid. Why wasn't Luther calling? Not even that prude could deny what happened in that office. He couldn't deny the hungry, scared, lustful, needy look on his face as Killian suffocated him, devouring his mouth, sucking on his tongue, pulling his lip, making him forget how to properly breathe. So why? Why was he the only one aching, waiting like a dog? Was Claus better? Better than him?
Killian scoffed in frustration. Was he too aggressive? Could Luther enjoy a more gentle approach?
"No" decided Killian. "Luther liked being tamed, liked the thrill of being poured down in nothing but rough lust and thirst. Whatever the blonde could do to him, whatever their memories together were, nothing could be better than me."
His phone dinged. A new voicemail. Killian press play. Nothing in the world could prepare him for what he was about to hear.