Chapter 9
Agonizing waves of pain wrack my body as I slowly wake. Everything hurts. My body, my heart, my whole fucking soul.
When I try to shift my body to a sitting position, a whimper slips through my lips, loud in the too-quiet room.
Having given up on moving, I let my eyes slip closed and take stock of the damage done to my body.
Neck, underarms, wrists, thighs… Every scent gland in my body is gone.
Leaving only the faint remnants of pineapple and coconut mixed with the metallic notes of blood.
My legs shift, sending a fresh wave of pain through my aching body.
Horror clogs my throat, gripping like a vice and stealing the breath from my lungs.
Did he… I shut the thoughts off before I fully process them.
Acknowledging any damage outside of the removal of my scent glands will wreck me.
I can deal with whatever else happened later.
The sound of the door to the room smacking against the wall has my eyes flying open. I watch quietly, heart pounding against my ribs, as they drag an unconscious man back into the room and toss him into a cage. His neck is scarred with the same wounds as mine.
These assholes sure are moving quickly.
Fighting back a wave of nausea, I force myself to lean against the bars at the back of my cage, in a somewhat upright position.
Each minuscule movement of my body is torture.
Panting through the pain, I glance at the cages to my right, noting that the one holding the large Alpha, my mysterious fifth mate, is now empty.
Fear skitters up my spine when I imagine him beneath the Doctor’s blade, but the lack of pain in our Fated connection tells me he is being subjected to a different atrocity.
The longer I sit and stare at the dreary walls of my new prison, the quicker my mind spirals. My life isn’t supposed to be like this. I’m not na?ve enough to think everything will always be sunny beaches and clear skies. Storms are inevitable.
But this? Being here? This isn’t a summer storm; it’s a Category 5 hurricane. The wreckage of my dreams lies in tatters around me as the wind tosses me about.
I should be curled up in my nest, surrounded by my mates. Their bonds should shine brightly in my chest, feeding me all of their love and joy.
Instead, I’m freezing, alone, and in agony. Trapped by men who are determined to break me the way they have the other victims in the room.
“He’s going to find a way out.” The hushed words are barely a breath in the air. If the woman next to me weren’t so close, they would have been as lost as I feel.
Fighting the need to turn to her, to seek comfort in the presence of another person, I push myself up, closer to a sitting position. The change shifts my weight, doing little to ease the pain still radiating through me.
Peeking at the woman next to me, her steadfast belief in my newest mate sparks the tiniest flame of jealousy. Rationally, I know it’s misplaced. I have no way of knowing how long she’s been here or what she has been through. Yet my instincts push for retribution.
Not necessarily for the connection that has formed between them, but for this Omega’s faith in my Fate-matched mate. It bothers me because I do not feel the same. How can I believe he will rescue me when he cannot bring himself to even glance my way?
No. The only ways I can escape this hell are to free myself or to wait until the FCDA finally finds its backers and the location of this breeding camp gets uncovered.
Time blurs. Minutes or hours could have passed before the doors open again. Two guards enter alone. We wait with bated breath to see who they will target next. Panic claws its way up my throat when they aim for my cage.
Please, no.
I cannot bear more of this torture when my body is already so ruined.
The cage door opens, and their hands grab at my body as they drag me from within. I fight. Scream and cry, but the pain from twisting away is too much. I can feel fresh blood leaking from where I’ve torn the stitches holding my wounds together.
With a ragged sob, I give in. I accept the shit hand Fate has dealt me and allow them to drag me down the worn hall.
When another door opens, I’m carried inside. My breath catches when I see my mystery mate slumped in a chair across the room. Chains bind him to the metal, too thick for even an Alpha’s strength to break. Fury and fear skitter up my spine as I’m tossed to the floor before his feet.
A man walks in several seconds later, swaggering toward us like he’s the king of this entire twisted crime ring. His skin is several shades darker than my mate’s, but there is a similarity between them that gives me pause.
“Wake him up,” he commands. He crouches beside me, hands gripping my jaw until it aches.
Stirring movements have my eyes flickering to where my mate is. Light green eyes flutter open before immediately locking on me. A growl vibrates up his chest, his teeth bared when he sees the other man’s hand on my skin.
“You should have given in, Creed . Now I’m going to force your hand.”
The small thrill I feel learning my mate’s name extinguishes quickly when one guard produces a needle and plunges it into Creed’s arm. His scent explodes into the room, a devastatingly perfect after-rain smell with just a hint of fresh soil.
I watch in horror as his pupils dilate, taking on a nearly feral quality with the vacant look in his now expressionless eyes. What the fuck did they give him?!
My question is answered with my next breath. The lure of his scent is a million times stronger now, drawing me in like a moth to a porch light. These assholes forced him into a rut. Are they planning to unleash him on me? After they-
“Watch, brother , as we enjoy this pretty treat.”
Hands grip my shoulders, pushing my face to the floor. They grab my thighs, cursing when they slip in the blood still leaking from my wounds. My eyes slip closed, resigned to enduring this trauma.
I can survive. I have to survive. My story will not end here. Unbonded and alone. I refuse to accept that this path is where Fate has been leading me.
Creed growls, the sound so ferocious it makes the other men in the room pause.
I blink my eyes open, startled by his anger, just in time to watch his muscles bulge.
His already massive body seems to grow before my eyes.
With a roar that rattles through the enclosed space, the chains binding him to the chair snap.
Panicked shouts and slapping feet fill the air as the guards try to flee. The ones closest to us are too slow. My jaw drops as Creed’s hand wraps around one of their necks and twists. I hear a sickening crunch before the man falls limp. My mate tosses his body aside and turns to the next.
One after the other, he follows them to the doorway. Bodies fall along his path. They fight back, slashing at him with knives and some sort of taser, but the wounds are ineffective. Even our Fated connection doesn’t register the pain.
Creed’s brother spins in the doorway, a terrified expression on his face. It twists to some semblance of a smirk, and he slams the door shut, the lock clicking into place immediately after. The thick metal clangs with the pounding of Creed’s fists, but it doesn’t budge.
My mate turns, and I get my first good look at him.
He’s tall, much taller than any of the others.
And he’s wider too, spanning the entire doorway.
Corded muscles cover his upper body, leading down to a flat stomach and thick thighs.
A heavy, angry purple cock juts proudly against his stomach, hard from the rut still pounding through his body.
My appreciation of his appearance disappears when he takes a menacing step toward me. I scramble to move away, but slip on the blood coating the floor beneath me. A cry slips through my lips when I crash to the floor, head smacking off the concrete.
Fuck! I can’t- He can’t-
Warm, calloused hands grip my body and lift me into the air. I try to blink the pain away long enough to see what is happening, but my head hurts too much to focus. I wince when my back presses against something solid; the harsh movements heighten the pain in my body.
When Creed’s warmth moves away, I open my eyes far enough to watch him stalk back toward the door. Looking down, I realize he’s placed me on a table. I try to shift, to slip to my feet, but my head spins, and I collapse back against the cold metal.
A whimper slips through my lips, and Creed’s head whips around, eyes narrowing on me.
I freeze, watching as he stalks back toward me.
His hand grips my throat, firm but gentle.
It still hurts when his fingers brush against the wounds Doctor Harrison left behind, but it isn’t intentional.
How an Alpha in a forced rut can think clearly enough to hold back his strength, I do not know.
Creed leans down, those mesmerizing, moss green eyes staring so hard it feels as if he’s examining every molecule of my soul. “Mine.”
Heat crawls up my cheeks with his mindless admission. My lips split into a small, tentative smile. “Yours,” I croak.
In the distance, I hear a boom, but I can’t look away from the Alpha towering over me. The muffled sound of gunfire follows, growing closer. Rapid breaths puff from my lips into the cold air. It feels like I’m suffocating. I try to choke out a plea for help, but it’s garbled.
Creed’s chest rattles with a ragged purr, and my eyes flutter closed, too heavy to stay open. The last thing I hear is the vicious roar of my mate’s voice when the door to the room slams open.