Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
My hand continues to ache, sharp pains shooting across my ruined skin like miniature fireworks.
It’s distracting, making it impossible to sleep. Every pulse of pain drags me further from it. How many days have we been here? Three? Four? It’s impossible to tell the time of day in this damned cell.
What feels like six hours could be only thirty minutes.
It should be almost morning time. I’m almost excited. Morning means Bells, which maybe means finding a way out of here.
I feel foolish for not keeping better track of the time, and I debate trying to carve a tally mark into the cement wall before quietly acknowledging that my human nails aren’t strong enough to do so.
I curl my marked hand around my head, my fingers resting against the base of Adam’s throat, just beneath his collar. I can feel his pulse.
He has his arm thrown over his eyes in an attempt to block out the light, but he’s not sleeping. He’s never really sleeping. How long can shifters go without? I’m getting worried.
Shifters can tolerate significantly more than humans can, but they still have limits.
Adam needs to sleep, especially if he’s to keep up his strength. He’s not being fed, nor has he received any medical attention. His sleep is the only thing he has control over, and he should take advantage of it.
I need him in tiptop shape when we escape. Because we are escaping. I don’t give myself another option.
Exhaustion will make him forgetful and careless. We can’t have that, not when the stakes are this high.
At least he’s no longer sniffing me.
He must be panicked over the idea of his mate being within arm’s reach of both him and HPAW, but I see it as a positive. The mate bond is so much more intense than HPAW realizes, and I’m optimistic that we can convince Bells to help us escape.
She just needs to meet Adam and feel the bond for herself. Then she’s ours.
She’s not prepared for the onslaught of emotions that comes with meeting your mate for the first time. She’ll fall putty to Adam, and she can be our eyes and ears outside of this cell.
There aren’t cameras inside the showers within the medical wing. Bells promised to wash my hair, and I assume that will come with a shower.
I’ll make sure of it.
I suspect Daniel is going to be overseeing all of my medical appointments, but he won’t make a fuss about me wanting to shower alone with Bells. The other soldiers would insist on watching, but never Daniel.
I can’t say whether or not he’s a good man, but he’s not a pervert.
Maybe I can even get Bells to tell me who the informant is. If she’s as close to Daniel as I suspect, I’m sure she can get that information from him. Men are weak when they’re horny, and she can use that to her benefit.
My fingers spasm as pain explodes up my marking, my middle finger pushing down against Adam’s throat. I don’t know what to do about it. The pain is growing worse, probably a sign of an infection.
I’ll have Bells look at it tomorrow.
My fingers spasm again, my middle finger once more pressing into Adam. I’m sure he’s noticed the twitches, but he hasn’t acknowledged them.
He shifts below me, the muscles in his abdomen tightening before he relaxes once more. I’m uncomfortable lying on him like this, a feeling I’m sure he shares, but there isn’t enough room for both of us on the bed.
Besides, as selfish as it is to admit, Adam serves as a pretty good mattress.
When he’s not all tensed up, he’s comfortable.
His thighs are spread, allowing both my legs to fall between his.
My knees rest against the hard mattress, but my face is on his chest, the top of my head ending just below his chin.
Caleb would have a conniption if he saw Adam and me in this position. My mate is possessive. I don’t think he’d be genuinely angry, given the circumstances, but he’d probably force me into the shower. Then he’d rub himself all over me, covering me in his scent.
My lips curl.
My fingers spasm.
Adam grabs them, his sudden grip borderline painful. I stiffen, unsure and confused as he slides his other hand down my waist. His touch is light, and I stop breathing as he slips his fingers up the back of my shirt.
What the fuck does he think he’s doing?
His fingertips tease my spine, and I’m a heartbeat away from sitting up and punching him in the eye when he softly taps my back with his index finger.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
Everything is perfectly timed with the pain in my hand.
My breath catches. This isn’t random. This is communication.
I hold myself still, too afraid to move as he continues his tapping. His movements are subtle, hopefully not picked up by the camera.
I was taught Morse code, the dots and dashes permanently ingrained in my mind after years of having it drilled into me, but this isn’t that. It’s similar, with short taping and longer presses, but Adam also slides his finger from side to side and in tight circles.
Everything is perfectly timed with the pain in my hand. I didn’t realize the pain was so specific. I wasn’t focusing on it, but now that I am, I realize there's a pattern to the burning.
Infidelity causes pain between mated pairs. The thought slams into me—hard and fast. If Caleb were to cheat on me, I would feel pain. I imagine it would feel an awful lot like this.
Caleb is alive.
Alive.
Alive.
Alive.
And he’s trying to communicate with us.
I just wish I knew what the fuck the pattern meant. Adam clearly understands it. He must be well taught if he can replicate Caleb’s movements so smoothly, the two perfectly synchronized.
Is this Adam’s way of cluing me in? He squeezes my fingers, drawing attention to them, before releasing me. I take that as a silent order to stop pressing against his skin. HPAW might notice and recognize it as a message, even if I wasn’t able to draw that conclusion.
I struggle to keep my fingers still as pain continues to flare.
“Scootch over,” Adam grunts. His words are casual—like we’re not in the middle of something huge. “My hips hurt.”
He rolls us to the side, just enough so that his back is facing the room. He’s shielding me from the cameras. I’m not completely hidden—I suspect that HPAW would order us to move if that were the case—but my face isn’t visible.
Is Adam going to speak to me? I hope not. HPAW has state-of-the-art microphones. They hear everything.
To my complete horror, Adam does something worse. So much worse.
He kisses me.
There’s no warning.
I bite my tongue so hard it bleeds as his lips press against mine. The pain keeps me from reacting.
The kiss is dead silent, hidden from HPAW, and I don’t put up a fight as Adam pries my lips open with his own. Is there no better way to do this?
He shoves his tongue into my mouth. I keep my body painfully still. Adam does, too.
This isn’t about him. This isn’t about me. This is about getting the fuck out of here.
Adam wiggles his tongue inside my mouth, using me to communicate with Caleb. I squeeze my eyes shut, my throat instinctively shutting as Adam licks the roof of my mouth.
I assume HPAW knows that infidelity causes pain. Their informant seems to have told them everything else.
Adam continues licking inside my mouth, using it like a fucking chalkboard. I focus on breathing.
I’m going to gag. I try really fucking hard to fight it, breathing evenly through my nose.
The pain in my hand stops. Caleb feels it. He understands.
What is he doing to make my hand hurt? Whatever it is, it must be enough for our bond to consider it cheating. I’m not sure I want to know what he’s doing. It’s a necessary evil, but still an evil.
A low buzzing halts Adam’s movements. Within the blink of an eye, I’m flat on my back and he’s crouching near the end of the bed, his eyes locked on the steel door. Like nothing happened. Like we weren’t just—
Four soldiers pour into the room, three weapons aimed toward Adam and one toward me.
“Against the wall,” one orders.
Adam hesitates, shifting on the balls of his feet.
“Don’t make me ask again.” Another weapon is aimed at me. “You won’t like the consequences."
Adam retreats, pressing himself against the wall. He’s glaring daggers at the soldiers, seemingly not the least bit concerned about the weapons pointed at his head and chest. I can tell it makes the soldiers uncomfortable. They’re tense, their flighty gazes darting between us.
Daniel saunters into the room, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His cold gaze lands immediately on my forehead, lingering there. I imagine there’s a red dot in the center of it.
“Remove it.”
There’s no question as to what he’s referring to.
The soldier pointing his weapon at me clears his throat, hesitating. “I’m under orders to—”
Daniel lifts a hand, stopping him. “I didn’t ask.”
A tense second passes before the soldier re-aims at Adam.
Daniel nods, then turns toward Adam. He cocks his head to the side as he evaluates the shifter, even taking a step closer to get a better look.
Is this the first time he’s seen a shifter in person?
He’s been my assigned caretaker for most of my life.
I doubt he’s had much reason to visit the few shifters that HPAW has managed to capture over the years.
He’s not involved in torture, nor is he a medical professional or scientist. He’s just a really good soldier and a mediocre caretaker.
The soldiers move as Daniel gets close, adjusting so Adam is always in their direct line of fire. The burning on the back of my hand resumes. I concentrate on it, noticing it’s now a different pattern.
Daniel is toe-to-toe with Adam.
He lets out a thoughtful hum. “Interesting.”
What’s interesting?
Daniel faces me, turning his back to the shifter who could tear him apart within seconds. Adam is close enough to kill Daniel before the guards can react.
“Come on, then,” Daniel orders me. He gestures to the door. “I don’t have all day.”
I don’t want to leave Adam here alone, but I don’t have much of a choice. I drag my hands down my shirt, smoothing the fabric, before following Daniel out of the cell. I assume he’s taking me back to medical.
Bells better be there today. Maybe she’ll smell Adam on me. I slept on him all night, imprinting his scent into every inch of my clothing.
This has to work.