14. Lilah
14
Lilah
I was lost, I was fucking terrified, and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move .
I wiggled, my paws all caught up and pinned, and my heart pounded as I struggled not to panic. Everything inside me wanted to howl, and god, I couldn’t stop myself from growling every few seconds, desperate to get away, bite, or...
Every ounce of rational thought was gone. I was all instinct, all fear and terror and agonizing pain from having been rejected.
God, Oliver’s face. He hadn’t even waited to hear what I had to say. He hadn’t waited .
That was partly my fault. I would have been stupid if I hadn’t seen Oliver’s hesitation about me. He’d been perfectly polite and even affectionate with me over the weeks I’d been living in the house...but there had always been hesitation there. His eyes were guarded as he looked at me, mistrust simmering in their depths as if I had an agenda and he couldn’t figure out what it was.
I’d wanted to ask more than once what his reservations were and what his history was, but I’d never gotten the courage to do so.
And now I never would.
I howled again, the sound muffled by my muzzled snout. My teeth tingled with the urge to bite, even though I knew that biting that man earlier was the reason I was in here in the first place. It hadn’t taken long for them to show up on the curb in front of me, slowly surrounding my wolf form with quiet words that were probably meant to be soothing. Humans were leery of shifters, even though we had integrated into society without a problem once we came out of the metaphorical closet.
Even so, many would report us merely for existing if they suspected that we were shifters, and that went double if we were caught shifting in public.
I knew all of that rationally, but I hadn’t been in my rational mind when my wolf form had ripped into existence, shredding my clothes and letting out a desperate howl that I knew for a fact could be heard far away, especially by other shifters.
I hadn’t been expecting the mild pang of pain that rang through my chest at my howl, nor the familiar warmth that it elicited. I somehow knew it was Killian, and a big part of me had wanted to go back to the house to see if he was there, to see if he would let me explain.
My wolf had been fully in control, though—and I’d run. I’d run hard, far, and fast, and I knew I wouldn’t stop again until I got...somewhere.
And now I was trapped. I was locked up; I was caged. And I had a sneaking suspicion where they would take me as soon as they got out of the city limits.
The rehab facility for feral wolves was not kind or pretty, to say the least, and I couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t where I deserved to be right now. The way that my instincts were screaming at me, the way that I hadn’t been able to control my shift...
The rational part of me didn’t want to go, of course. But I kept howling and writhing against my restraints, and in the back of my mind, I had to admit that I was in no shape to be around other people—not now.
I continued to howl, whine, and plead in the back of the car, where nobody could hear me as we drove. Eventually, the smooth pavement under the car turned to the bumpy grind of gravel, and the sun surrounding the car changed. Fresh grass, decaying leaves, and fresh air overtook the exhaust fumes, and I knew we weren’t in the city anymore.
Confirming my worst fears.
The car finally came to a stop. Bound up as I was, there was no way I would be able to get away even if I did try to struggle, and I lay, docile, as they picked me up and slowly carried me into the facility.
“There you go. See, that’s okay, isn’t it?” one of them—the one that was carefully holding my head so it didn’t bounce at an unpleasant angle—cooed at me. I could tell he was doing his best to comfort me, but the moment we walked into the facility and the sterile scent of antiseptic and bitter drugs hit my nose, all was lost again.
I snarled into the muzzle and thrashed my body as best I could as they made their way through the building. Along the way, one of them peeled off. I could feel the muzzle filling up with foaming saliva, and in the back of my mind, my rational mind continued to shrink away, eaten by my instincts and the aching, desperate sense of loss in my chest.
I lost them. I lost them. They rejected me.
I whined, and a loud buzzing sound made my entire body jerk. I barely had the wherewithal to look around, to see the long hallway with barred doors—all with keypad locks beside them and red lights signaling that they were locked down tight—before I was carried into a room and carefully set down.
“There you go. There you go. Be careful with her legs; she’ll swipe at you if she gets the chance,” the one holding my head instructed. He held me firmly as the bindings on my legs were undone and then made soft, soothing sounds as the others in the room slowly backed away, leaving me in the arms of the final man, my head still firmly muzzled.
I hated it. I growled aggressively and swiped at him like he’d said I would. I couldn’t even be mad at myself for being predictable because my instincts were screaming, desperate for me to get away. My muscles bunched, and I tried to swipe again, but the man kept dodging me like this was an old game for him.
“It’s okay. They’ll be here soon with some medicine to help you out, sweetie,” the man said. His voice was sickly sweet and condescending, and I growled again, wanting him to know how infuriated I was.
He didn’t care, though—of course he didn’t. He just held my head still while my body struggled, and a few minutes later, the door opened again, and someone in a long, white lab coat walked in.
“New intake,” the man holding me said, his fingers carding through the fur behind my ears as if he were petting me. “Found near the main road, just off Fifth Street. Called in by a neighbor who saw her shift and run away howling. Seems to be already pretty lost to the ferality, if I were to guess.”
The man—a doctor?—nodded and crouched next to me, his hand gently landing on my flank. I kicked out at him, but like the other man handling me, he didn’t seem bothered even a little by my aggression. “Any idea what caused her breakdown?”
I hated the way they talked about me as if I weren’t there. I wanted to return to human form and tell them exactly what had happened and how my heart was breaking from what Oliver had said and done.
But when I reached for that spark inside of me, the human side that was ordinarily so easy for me to access, I found it just out of reach.
I whined and tried harder—to shift, to communicate, to make them understand .
But I couldn’t. I was a scared wolf, a hurt omega, and I couldn’t be human right now. I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I couldn’t .
“She’s an omega wolf, and she was near some prominent houses in the district where several alpha packs are located. I checked the registry on the way here, and two of them are registered to court omegas. If I had to guess, something happened with one of the alphas of those packs, and it upset her.”
The hand on my flank moved, and I was still this time. I just couldn’t anymore. I kept growling low in my throat, but it almost felt involuntary at this point. I let the doctor manhandle me as he checked me over, and his voice was smooth and professional when he spoke again.
“She appears uninjured, which is good. I’ll administer the sedative and then draw her blood to match her against the omega database and figure out who we need to call.” There was a slight pause, and then he said to me, “You’ll be here until you can shift back. I’m not anticipating it happening quickly, unfortunately. Cases of sudden ferality like this don’t usually recover quickly, but I hope you’re the exception to the rule.”
There was another pause before a sharp pinch on my flank made my growls die out in my throat, and I slowly slumped against the floor. Only once I was entirely relaxed did the man holding my head release me. All I could do was lay there as I felt another pinch—presumably the doctor drawing my blood—and then my muzzle was removed with careful fingers.
“You’ll be okay,” the man soothed, gently patting my head before he stood up. I wanted to balk at the blatant condescension in that gesture, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move and could barely breathe. The pain in my chest from the fractured, fragile bond that I’d formed with Oliver and the others was dulled from the drugs they’d given me, and a few seconds later, I heard the door buzz open again and then shut with a final sounding slam.
A low whine escaped me, but I couldn’t stand up. I couldn’t do anything .
All I could do was lay there on the ground, hurting and mindless, and slowly slip away into unconsciousness as the drugs took effect.