Chapter 3
3
I jolt awake to the sound of beeping monitors, my heart pounding hard.
No, no, this can’t be happening. I’m back in the lab, trapped, at their mercy once again. Panic seizes me as I rip the IV from my arm, barely registering the sting as I yank off wires and heart monitors. The machines start screaming for attention.
Have to escape.
Now.
I tumble off the hospital bed, my bare feet slapping on the cold tile floor.
Voices erupt from outside the room, and the door bursts open. A man in a white coat rushes in, followed by men in black, their hands reaching for me.
A scream locks in my throat as I back into the corner, behind a metal cart laden with medical equipment. Their voices all blend together, the noise hammering in my skull. Can’t think. Can’t breathe.
Too much. It’s all too much.
I sink to the floor and curl into myself, wrapping my arms around my head, trying to block it all out. Uncontrollable shaking takes over my body, hot tears streaking down my face. The astringency of antiseptic burns my nostrils, and I gag, tasting bile in the back of my throat.
Please, please leave me alone. I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I’ll do anything, just don’t touch me.
“Quiet!” The shout cuts through the chaos. “Everyone, leave. Now!”
The room falls silent, save for the rapid thudding of my heart. The voice tickles at the back of my mind, familiar somehow. It sends strange shivers through my body, and I curl tighter in on myself.
Footsteps shuffle out, and the door clicks shut. The harsh fluorescent lights dim to make it easier on me.
Slow, measured steps approach my hiding spot.
I hold my breath, not daring to move.
The footsteps stop on the other side of the cart.
Seconds tick by in tense silence. I wait for hands to grab me, to drag me back to the nightmares I escaped.
Nothing happens.
Curiosity wars with fear, and my head lifts.
A man sits cross-legged on the floor facing me, his elbows resting on his knees. Reddish-brown hair falls to his shoulders, framing a chiseled face with high cheekbones and a nose with a slight bump in it. Rich brown eyes study me intently.
“Hey, there.” A soothing rumble rises from his chest, the Alpha in him trying to comfort an Omega. “Do you remember me?”
I squint at him, catching the glint of auburn in his hair, and the memory surfaces of a man standing over me, a halo of hair around his head.
“You’re the demon,” I croak.
“Close.” He chuckles, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Damien.”
Damien. The name sits oddly right on my tongue. I study him, my muscles coiled tight with wariness, ready to bolt. His powerful build and the way he holds himself with easy confidence scream Alpha, yet something in the patient way he sits registers as protective.
Damien extends his hand toward me, and I flinch back, my pulse leaping as I wait for him to grab me. To drag me back to the bed for more experiments. Panic seizes my throat, threatening to choke me.
But he doesn’t move any further. His hand remains outstretched, a sealed sleeve of medical gauze resting in his palm. “You’re bleeding.”
At his soft concern, my gaze darts from his face to the gauze. Is this a trick? If I reach for it, will he grab me? I’ve fallen for such ploys before, and the scars on my body bear testament to the consequences.
After a moment where neither of us move, Damien sets the gauze on the floor and flicks it closer to me. It lands at my feet, and I snatch it up, tearing open the packet with trembling fingers. I press the gauze to the bleeding wound where I’d ripped the IV out.
Damien’s attention lingers on my bare arm, on the thin scars that form a crisscross pattern up the length of my forearm and the track marks left by needles. “You have a lot of old wounds.”
Ashamed of the shiny patches of skin, I curl my arm to my chest, hiding it behind my knees. The scars are a roadmap of my suffering, each one a reminder of the countless violations inflicted upon my body and soul.
I want to disappear, to melt into the shadows and escape the revulsion sure to follow. But there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I’m trapped.
My breath comes in shallow gasps, and I brace myself for the inevitable condemnation. Ugly Omega. Worth nothing more than the organs stored in your rotten flesh.
“You had a pretty nasty wound on your bicep.” Damien gestures to my arm, the motion slow as if trying not to spook a frightened animal. “What happened to you?”
Silent, I curl tighter as shivers wrack my body. How can I tell this Alpha about the tracker I dug out of my flesh? The desperation that drove me to mutilate myself for a chance at freedom?
He wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t.
Damien senses my unease, and he changes tack. “Do you know where you are right now?”
Tongue darting out to lick my dry lips, I repeat the address Jade gave me.
“That’s right,” Damien encourages. “What’s your name?”
I roll my wrist, exposing my barcode. “07825.”
Damien’s face remains gentle. “That’s going to be hard for me to remember. Do you have a nickname?”
“Seven.”
“Nice to meet you, Seven.” He smiles to put me at ease. “How old are you?”
My tongue prods at a crack in my lip. Should I lie and say that I’m younger than I am? Or older? Unsure what this Alpha wants, I go with the truth. “Twenty, I think.”
Unfazed that I don’t know for sure, he asks, “Do you remember why you came here, Seven?”
Am I still where Jade told me to go?
The medical room, the sterile white walls, the gleaming equipment and the silenced monitors raise prickles of suspicion on my skin.
Damien’s expression turns thoughtful. “You don’t like this room, do you?”
Throat tight, I shake my head. The clinical atmosphere, the antiseptic smell, and the cold metal surface all remind me too much of the lab, of the endless experiments, the searing pain, and the moment I lost hope.
“Your arm was badly infected,” Damien explains. “You slept for two days. Lost a lot of blood, too. We used the medical supplies on hand meant for my cousin’s fiancé, in case he has complications with his delivery.”
Excited, he leans closer to confide, “I’m going to be an uncle.”
“First cousin once removed,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Damien chuckles. “Uncle will be easier for the kid to remember, don’t you think?”
How do I respond? What’s the best answer to appease him?
This Alpha confuses me with his gentle words and unexpected kindness. I’m not used to being treated like a person, like someone who matters. It’s terrifying because it makes me feel human again, and I’m not sure it’s safe to allow myself such freedom.
Sensing my discomfort, Damien changes the subject once more. “Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable in the house?”
Torn between the desire to escape this sterile room and the fear of what awaits me outside of the lab, I stay silent.
When I don’t respond, Damien reaches out and touches the leg of the cart I hide behind. “Can I move this?”
Blood rushes through my ears, and I freeze in place. I should say something, agree or refuse, or give some sign of my wishes. But indecision leaves me paralyzed as self-preservation and the desperate need to trust this man war within me.
With exaggerated motions, so I’m aware of what he’s doing, Damien pushes the machine to the side. The metal legs scrape on the floor, the sound loud in the room’s stillness. I freeze as the barrier between us disappears, leaving me out in the open.
And yet, somehow, nothing registers as a threat. Something about the way Damien moves conveys he means no harm, and I’m not sure what to make of this tentative trust trying to take root.
With the barrier out of the way, Damien scoots backward, putting more distance between us, and reaches up to drag the blanket off the hospital bed.
He holds it out to me. “It must be cold, sitting on this tiled floor in only a hospital gown.”
My mind spins with possibilities as I stare at the blanket. Is this a trick? A trap? Will he grab me the moment I reach out?
But I can’t remember the last time I was warm, and the blanket tempts me. Motions jerky, I keep a wary eye on him as I uncurl to crawl forward, leaving the safety of my corner. My hand shakes as I extend my arm, but fear grips me at the last second, and I snatch my hand back, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps.
Damien doesn’t move. He simply waits, the blanket extended.
I swallow hard and reach out again, my fingers brushing the soft fabric. When Damien still doesn’t move, I take the blanket from him and wrap it around my body.
Warmth envelops me, and a shaky sigh escapes as I bring the material up over my chin. It’s smells like antiseptic, but also clean. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything other than cold and dirty, anything other than pain.
Damien shifts to put his feet under him. “Can you stand?”
In answer, I struggle to my feet, sharp pains shooting through my system. My weak legs wobble, and I brace myself on the wall to keep from falling.
Damien doesn’t rush me, doesn’t grab me, or force me to move faster than I’m able. He waits, patient and still, while I find my balance.
Damien backs toward the door, then pauses expectantly.
Still keeping distance between us, I shuffle forward, clutching the blanket.
Damien continues to back away as I approach. “We’re going to go out into the hallway. It will look a bit like a hospital, but don’t worry. We’ll get on the elevator and go up into the house.”
My heart pounds faster as memories of cold, sterile rooms and harsh lights flash through my mind, my breath catching. But Damien’s steady gaze holds mine, somehow easing the fear that threatens to overwhelm me.
I take another step forward, then freeze when Damien holds up a hand. “Hang on a second.”
My muscles tense. Has this all been a trick, after all?
Damien pops his head out the door, speaking to someone on the other side. “Clear the hallway.”
A brief pause follows the order, then a muffled response, “I need to talk to that kid.”
My pulse races at the thought of facing someone else, of being questioned and prodded. I shrink back, bumping into the hospital bed.
Damien shakes his head. “Not now. Give him some space.”
Another pause, longer this time, then a reluctant, “Fine.”
Satisfied, Damien opens the door wider and steps out into the hallway.
After a moment’s hesitation, I follow.
The hallway is every bit as white and sterile as I feared, with harsh fluorescent lights that burn my eyes. For a moment, I’m back in the lab, strapped to a table, while masked figures loom over me.
“Hey, look only at me, okay?” Damien says, snapping me out of it.
He stands a little distance down the hall, waiting for me to come to him. When I shuffle forward, he doesn’t touch or guide me, just walks backward down the hallway, giving me space to follow at my pace.
I fix on his face, trying to block out the memories that threaten to drag me under.
One step at a time. Keep moving forward.
As we approach the elevator, my heart pounds harder. The thought of being trapped in the small space with an Alpha, even one as unthreatening as Damien, sends a shiver of fear down my spine.
Damien must sense my hesitation because he pauses, turning to face me. “We don’t have to take the elevator if you’re not comfortable. We can take the stairs instead, if you can handle them.”
I swallow hard, considering my options. The stairs would give me more room to maneuver and more chances to escape if I need to.
Weak as I am, the thought of climbing all those steps is too daunting. “The elevator is fine.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Damien presses the button to call the lift.
As we wait, he assesses me, but not in the cold, clinical way the Doctor did. Genuine concern radiates from him that I’m not used to being directed at me.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open.
Damien steps inside, moving to stand against the wall, leaving the doorway unblocked.
With a steadying breath, I follow him in, hurrying past him to stand in the opposite corner.
The doors close with a soft whoosh, taking away any chance of escape. The elevator is spacious, but still too small, too confined. Pressed into the corner, I clutch the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
Damien leans on the opposite wall, giving me as much space as he can. He says nothing, just watches with that same steadiness.
As the elevator ascends, panic tightens my chest. My breath comes in sharp gasps, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of being strapped down and experimented on.
A gentle touch on my arm brings me out of it. I flinch, my eyes flying open to find Damien standing in front of me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“Breathe,” he encourages. “You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I search his face for any sign of deceit or malice. But all I sense is protectiveness.
I take a deep, shuddering breath. Then another. And another. His pheromones fill the air, slipping into my lungs and easing my tension.
By the time the elevator reaches its destination, my breaths are steady, the panic pushed back for now.
The doors slide open, revealing an elegant hallway.
Damien’s hand leaves me, but the warmth of his skin remains, and his pheromones cling to me, wrapping around me like a shield.
He steps out first, holding the door open, and waits for me to join him.
This new space differs from the medical area downstairs, with gleaming hardwood floors and an ornate, red carpet-runner down the center. Wood paneling covers the lower half of the walls, with cream velvet wallpaper on the top. Small, crystal wall-sconces light the way.
It’s as scary as the hospital, but Damien’s solid, reassuring presence urges me forward.
My feet move, taking one step after another, trusting this Alpha not to betray me.