Chapter 39 Mirabelle
Mirabelle
The shriek of the alarm practically makes me jump out of my skin.
I completely forget there’s a beta guard watching us and reach for Rowan’s arm, clinging to it desperately.
“Fucking hell! That means the cops are coming!” The bald beta man curses. He pushes past me, shoving me into Rowan’s chest.
“Hey! Watch it!” Rowan snaps, his arm curling protectively around my waist.
He turns his wild eyes to Rowan. Something about the metallic aftertaste of his scent reminds me of something. It’s only when his lips curl back in a snarl that I make the connection.
This man is hooked on enhancement drugs. Like Rowan was when I first met him.
Except this guy seems to have been on significantly higher or more frequent doses, if the veins popping out of his temple are any indication.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of here. The police’ve been doing raids on places like this more often. And I’m not willing to get caught.” He turns his back to us and stumbles down the hallway.
“This is a fucking shitshow,” Rowan mutters under his breath. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“We—we can’t leave the guys! Please, Rowan, we have to get them too!” I say, clinging to his arm.
I can barely hear myself think over the screech of the alarm. The bright flashing lights in the dim hallway wreak havoc on my senses.
I’ve been spoiled, spending my recent time with Rowan and Griffin in my nest back at Rowan’s trailer. This kind of environment reminds me of that terrible cell I was kept in when I was first drugged.
“We’re not leaving them behind,” Rowan says, lacing his hand with mine as he tugs me down the hall. “No one gets left behind, Sugar.”
My shoulders slump forward with relief as he opens the door.
Loud roars echo from the other cells where other alphas are being kept. But my focus is on my alphas.
All three of my alphas are standing, the muscles in their body locked up like they’re preparing for an attack.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ash snarls, his eyes scanning over my body like he’s trying to reassure himself that I’m alright.
“Police are coming. We’re getting out of here,” Rowan says, stepping up to Rage’s cage and digging in his back pocket to unlock it.
“Like, out of here, out of here?” Griffin asks, flashing a toothy grin.
His excitement is contagious, buzzing in my chest like a hive full of bees.
“Like hell you are.” The snarl sends a bolt of terror through my body.
Jett.
With a gun pointed right at Rowan.
Bang.
The noise is deafening in the small space. My ears are ringing so loudly I can barely hear my own scream when I see blood splatter all over the concrete.
Rowan’s blood.
He collapses to the floor, clutching at his thigh. Blood soaks through his worn jeans and he screams out in pain.
“Rowan!” I cry out, lurching towards him.
I’m caught by a vicious hold in my hair.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’re not going anywhere,” Jett snarls, tugging me into his chest.
My skin feels dirty. Coated in oil wherever he touches me.
“Get your filthy hands off her!” Griffin roars.
“I’m going to fucking kill you, you sack of shit!” Ash spits.
Rage says nothing, but his roar echoes off the walls as he throws himself into the bars. His cage topples over, barely missing Rowan, prone on the floor.
“Let me go!” I sob as Jett tucks the gun back into his waistband.
My strangled cries are cut off when he grips me by the neck, cutting off my airflow.
I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me in front of all of my guys and they’re going to lose themselves. They’d never recover after seeing something like that.
“I don’t like your shrieking,” Jett hisses, his breath hot against my cheek. “So you better shut up.”
I nod frantically, as much as I can with his hand cutting off my windpipe. He waits until I’m clawing at his forearm with my nails. I’m pretty sure I draw blood, too. Just as black spots appear in my vision, he releases his grip on my neck.
I suck in a desperate lungful of air, coughing.
His grip on me is still iron tight.
“I should’ve known fucking better, you fucking shitstain,” Jett hisses, glaring down at Rowan, who’s still writhing on the floor. “Did I hear that right? First chance you get, you’re gonna run away with the dogs?”
Rowan’s jaw grinds as he returns Jett’s glare. He’s pale. From the shock of getting shot or the blood loss, I don’t know. But it scares me. There’s so much blood. I’ve never seen this much blood before in my life.
“I want a fuckin’ answer from you, shitstain,” Jett snarls. There’s a flash of metal in front of my face. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”
A knife.
Oh my god he’s not going to choke me to death, he’s going to stab me to death.
“Yes!” Rowan croaks out, trying to push himself up. “That’s what you wanted to hear, right! Put the knife away!”
“Stop moving,” Jett barks.
The command tears through Rowan’s body and he freezes. I can feel him fight against the compulsion through the half-bond we have together. He’s fighting so hard.
“As for the knife, I don’t think I will,” Jett drawls, using the back of the knife to draw the robe open and off my shoulder.
The motion reveals the white scar of my bondmark from Griffin. It burns hot. Almost scalding.
The rage I can feel through the bond from Griffin is overwhelming, in the storm of my own emotions.
Jett releases his grip on my hair at the same time he flips the blade, resting the sharp edge against my skin.
I don’t dare move. Don’t dare breathe.
He presses it ever so slightly into my skin. A whine leaves my throat at the burn. A trickle of blood drips down my collar bone, a harsh red against my pale skin.
“I should carve this fucking bondmark from your body,” he growls.
No. No, no, no. Not my bondmark.
“Don’t you dare!” Griffin roars, his eyes wild.
All three of my alphas seize up when Jett activates their shock collars. Their roars turn strangled, before they cut off completely.
“Finally, some fucking peace and quiet. If only that stupid alarm would turn the fuck off. It’s not like there’s an actual fire,” Jett mutters.
Then I feel Jett’s hand against my body. Up the lingerie until he’s cupping my breast. I want to vomit. Just like when I vomited all over him when he tried to touch me the first time.
The world seems to slow down. Everything moves in slow motion. It sounds crazy, but it’s almost like I’m watching myself in a movie.
Everyone else is fighting.
But I’m just standing here.
Helpless.
I’ve spent my whole life helping people. It’s why I was brought here in the first place. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what makes me happy.
But as I stand here, all my mates are hurting themselves trying to help me. I’m not helping anyone by just standing here.
Maybe it’s time for me to help myself.
I notice Rowan’s hands clenched around a flash of metal.
The key.
The sight jerks me back into my body with a gasp.
I know what to do.
Or at least what I need to try.
Despite the knife at my throat, I slam my head into Jett’s nose and stomp my heel into Jett’s boot.
There’s a satisfying crunch—hopefully of Jett’s nose being broken—but I don’t have time to celebrate.
His hold loosens enough for me to shove myself away, but not before his knife slices into my shoulder.
I collapse to the floor, letting out a startled sob from the pain.
My blood, hot and sticky seeps past my hand as I press it against my shoulder.
I don’t dare look. Did he hurt my bondmark?
If he did, would that take away my bond with Griffin?
I don’t have time to wallow, because everything else moves so quickly.
Rowan, freed from Jett’s bark, rolls over and unlocks Rage’s cage.
I don’t even truly see what happens next. One second, Rage is lunging over me, his teeth bared and the next, Jett is screaming as there’s a sickening crunching sound.
The only thing I see before Rowan crawls to me, tucking my head into his chest so I don’t see, is Jett’s arm, twisted at an unnatural angle.
There are three more screams. Three more sickening crunching sounds.
I’m pretty sure Rage is tearing at each one of Jett’s limbs.
Then there’s one last crack.
And then the screaming stops.
I lift my head from Rowan’s chest, away from the iron tinged basil to try and see.
“Don’t—don’t look,” he stutters, his eyes wide.
I don’t heed his warning.
Rage stands, leaving Jett in a crumpled pile on the floor. Jett’s body twitches a couple of times before it grows still, like a broken doll.
Rage’s expression is twisted. Broken.
I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of him.
And now isn’t the time to start. The last thing he needs to smell in the air is my fear.
But I’m definitely the closest I’ve been to being afraid of what he’ll do.
“You gonna kill me now, big guy?” Rowan huffs, his head leaning up against the bars of the cage.
“No!” I say, scrambling up to my knees and extending my arm out to try and protect Rowan.
It hurts. The movement tugs on the knife wound I have in my shoulder.
I think that’s what gets through to Rage. Either my voice or the wince of pain. Maybe both.
But instead of crushing Rowan like he just crushed Jett, he sweeps me up into his arms, burying his face into my hair.
I sink into his arms, clinging to him desperately. I need his strength. The security it offers, knowing that Rage has gotten rid of the man who hurt me.
“I’m okay. I’m okay, Rage, see? You don’t need to worry,” I babble. I don’t know whether I’m trying to reassure him or myself.
“Bleeding,” he grunts, his gravelly voice sending a shiver down my spine. He nods towards my hand.
I’m too afraid to look.
“I’m fine,” I say, nodding like a bobblehead. “I’m alive. That’s what’s important. Now, we’ve gotta get the others out of their cages, okay?”
“Here’re the keys,” Rowan grunts, pushing himself up into a sitting position, wincing and holding out a set of keys. “I think you’re gonna have to help, I don’t know if I can stand.”