Chapter 3
Chapter three
Lyra
Disgruntled voices echo through my memories and muddied thoughts as I rouse slowly, trying to get a sense of my surroundings.
I’m lying flat on my back on a soft feather bed. A bed that smells distinctly of herbs, like sage, rosemary, and thyme.
It’s an addictive scent, and I find myself turning on the bed, breathing in the pillow where the scent is strongest.
Unfortunately, the action causes my shoulder and legs to burn as I wince, gritting my teeth. But the scent makes it all better...
For a moment, it makes me forget that I’m a hunted Omega. One that is in danger from a corrupt king, as she just breathes in that rich scent.
It’s warm and makes me feel safe. A foreign word that I haven’t known in a while. It makes me feel like I am home—another word that has eluded me in recent years.
I’m still burying my nose into the pillow when the voices rouse me again, and just as quickly as it appeared, the illusion shatters.
No more home or safety. It’s just Lyra against the world again.
My eyes snap open, and then I jerk upright on the strange bed, regretting it immediately. Spots fly at the edges of my vision, whirling and dancing like snowflakes as I become lightheaded.
Yet I still manage to cast my gaze around the room. A strange room filled with sketches of birds and wildlife as they frame the walls.
My heart jumps in my chest, thumping throughout my body. It even thumps between my eyes as I groan, grabbing my forehead.
How did I even get here?
I can hardly recall the exact events that led me here. Then it hits me like a fork of white-hot lightning.
The river!
How could I have forgotten?
I am on the run!
So, I didn’t drown after all. It appears I made it back to land. It appears someone has saved me.
Is that why I am lying on a bed that smells of warm sage? That’s when I move closer for an investigative sniff.
Shit. That is an Alpha scent. There’s no mistaking it now.
My heart seizes in my throat.
I’ve been recaptured.
If an Alpha has me in their custody, then it will only be a matter of time until they return me to the king.
There is a massive price on my head, I bet.
“What was I supposed to do? Just leave her by the riverbank? She was covered in arrows!”
Arrows?
Of course!
The images flood back, and then I wince from the memory of the arrows that pierced my flesh.
However, when I reach my arm around to my shoulder, my fingers only find neat stitches. The same goes for my right thigh, as well as the stab wound on my left thigh.
Someone has tended to my wounds. They even removed the arrows, and somehow, I slept through the whole ordeal.
They must have really careful, gentle fingers if these stitches are anything to go by, and that’s when the snort escapes my lips; I sound just like one of the horses of the king’s mounted guards.
Yeah, gentle and Alpha don’t really go hand in hand.
Still, I shouldn’t hang around. It’s time to plan my escape. Yet I can’t move, my entire body shaking from head to toe as if I were a rabbit frozen in place. The walls with their pretty sketches of birds close in on me next, suffocating me.
I am in a cell once again.
At this rate, I will never get to Eden.
I will never reach my sisters.
Zelda, Ava...
They will be waiting for me. I have to get out of here and find them.
The voices reach me again, freezing me to the bed once more.
“Yes! You should have! We don’t know where the hell she even came from, Wren. Normal Omegas don’t wash up along the riverbank, pierced with arrows for fuck’s sake. She’s dangerous!”
Now that voice I do not like. It is not unlike the voice of my former guardian. The Alpha who broke me and turned me into a vicious little monster.
The same one who stabbed my left thigh.
However, it lacks the same mocking cruelty as my guardian’s voice as I listen out further. At least this Alpha’s grumpy tone isn’t as laced with malice. It’s dark and gruff, sure, but not so unkind.
But it’s not exactly kind, either.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Malakai. That suspicion of yours is going to be the death of you. In your eyes, everyone is the enemy. You don’t even trust Fidget!”
My face crumples in confusion.
Who and what is a Fidget?
That’s when my eyes land on the sketch of a laughing red fox. It has its mouth wide open, green eyes narrowed with affection as it looks like it’s smiling at the sketcher.
“And your constant need to save every goddamn stray you find is going to be the end of you, dear brother. She’s not another one of your injured birds!”
Injured bird?
Does that explain all the avian sketches, then?
“Well, what do you think?” the Alpha named Wren asks someone else next.
Wren. Just like a bird.
Silence drifts beyond the door and down the stairs as I listen with bated breath. My heart beats on my tongue as my eyes dart about the room.
They fall upon a window.
Escape.
Quickly, I rise from the bed, sneaking across the floorboards. The window is only a few feet away, but I’ll make it; I know I can. I just hope it isn’t locked. That would be really unfortunate.
That’s when I feel the braid brushing against my exposed shoulder, staring at it in wonder for a moment.
Someone braided my hair when I was unconscious. They even tied it with a piece of string…
When a third Alpha speaks this time, my whole body freezes. It’s a booming voice, one that seems to shake the very foundations of the house.
It even vibrates through the wood of the door, rattling it in its hinges.
That Alpha has a voice as rough as gravel and as loud as thunder.
“I’m not so sure. Obviously, you both make valid points. Wren couldn’t just leave the poor creature, but at the same time, she could also be dangerous.”
Dangerous?
They have no idea.
I was only trained to kill other Omegas, but I have put a few Alphas six feet in the ground, too.
Some of those Alphas were traitors of the king—Alphas who had committed treason. Or training dummies, if you will.
And I still remember the horror on all their faces as I squeeze my eyes lest the memories haunt me again.
They deserved to be killed. They were Alphas.
And all Alphas are bad… right?
“Exactly. You need to get her out of here, Wren,” the one named Malakai sneers, and there’s no missing that cold indifference in his voice again.
I bet there are many things he doesn’t care for. Least of all, a stray Omega like me covered in arrow wounds.
I’ve overstayed my welcome, anyway.
It’s time to leave.
My sisters are waiting for me in Eden.
At least that indifferent Alpha isn’t the pack lead. It’s obvious that the one with the gravelly voice is in charge here. The one who could stop me in my tracks with a mere sigh alone.
Rare indeed.
Normally, I cringe at the sound of an Alpha’s voice. Yet not these three. I can’t let them lull me into a false sense of security.
I am not safe. Period. Not until I make it to Eden.
Finally, I reach the window, gazing at the latch.
“No. She is not leaving until she is healed. Have a heart, Malakai.”
An Alpha... with a heart? Now there's a contradiction if I ever heard one. Still, it’s pretty evident that the Alpha Wren has a big heart. The Alpha who removed my arrows and braided my hair.
Perhaps there are some good Alphas in this world after all. But alas, I must leave. It’s just too bad that the floorboards squeak beneath me.
Fuck.
The hair rises at the back of my neck as all three voices stop. A heartbeat passes. And then two.
Until he speaks. The Alpha with the resounding voice. “She is awake.”
Shit.
I fumble with the latch of the window, pressing my nose against the glass as I steam it up with my rapid breathing. When I finally lift the smooth pane upwards, feeling that rush of cool air, I sigh.
Maybe there is a God and he does love me.
By the time I’m swinging my injured leg out of the window, hanging precariously over the ledge, they’re already too late.
Finally, I lock eyes with the owner of the room. The Alpha who sketches woodland birds and smells like warm sage.
His look of fear and concern almost gives me pause. His eyes are sage green to match his Alpha scent.
Quite poetic.
He blinks at me dumbly for a moment, holding up a set of wide hands. Those palms are bigger than my whole face as my heart beats in alarm; he could very well crush my skull between his mighty behemoth fingers without even trying.
And that’s when I make my choice.
Time to escape. And no handsome, chiseled Alpha with dirty blond hair and kind, sage green eyes is going to stop me.
“No, wait. You don’t want to do that, little sparrow. Your stitches are still fresh.”
Little sparrow? An odd name choice.
Well, this little sparrow is about to take flight.
The Alpha grins next, showing me a set of glistening fangs. Those fangs would look good buried deep in my throat.
What am I thinking?
Now the Alpha smiles wider, and that’s when a prominent dimple appears on his right cheek. The dirty blond Alpha tries to placate me again. “Come now, back to the bed, and we can look over those stitches.”
That’s right. Stitches. He really does have healing hands. A pair of massive, healing hands, for that matter, bigger than my entire face.
As sweet as he may be, it’s time to bail.
Finally, I swing both legs out of the window, wincing in pain as the movement tugs at my stitches.
The Alpha gasps. “No, wait!”
My body weight pulls at the stitches on my shoulder now as I hang off the ledge, and sure enough, blood oozes from the wound, dripping down my back.
It’s now or never.
Time to find my freedom.
If I roll when I land on the ground, then I may just make it. I just need to ensure I hit the ground running.
Finger by finger, I let go of the ledge.
And then, I become airborne.
“Little sparrow, no!”
Yeah, he really needs to stop calling me that. I am not a sparrow. Even if I am practically flying right now.
Unfortunately, before I even get the chance to crack my skull open on the cold, hard ground below, I’m enveloped in a pair of strong, tanned arms.
And then my nose fills with the strong scent of woodsmoke.
Shocked and confused, I jerk my head up, locking eyes with the brightest, iciest pair of irises that I have ever seen. Irises framed by a tousled mane of brown hair.
My heart thuds in my chest.
Those eyes pierce my soul, assessing me for everything I’m worth. Do they see the killer behind my violet eyes?
I bet they do.
Well, so much for my grand escape.
I truly am a goner.
I just hope they decide to kill me rather than send me back to the king.
Death would be far more preferable.