10. Hailey
Chapter 10
Hailey
C old. So cold.
I blink, trying to focus, but everything blurs at the edges. Pink light washes over me, soft and hazy. Where am I? The question feels important, but my thoughts scatter like startled birds when I try to catch them.
Something hard beneath me. A chair? Yes. Metal. Icy against my soft skin. My skin prickles with goosebumps—I’m naked. Why am I naked?
A shiver runs through me, though it’s not entirely from the cold. There’s something else, something building under my skin. Something hot. Something insistent. It radiates from my core outward, making my limbs feel heavy and my head light.
I try to lift my hand, surprised by how much effort it takes. My muscles aren’t responding right. Like they’re weighed down or wrapped in cotton. Did I drink too much? No, that’s not it. Something else. Something…is wrong.
The heat intensifies, pulsing through me in waves. I’ve felt something like this before, haven’t I? But not like this. Not this powerful. This consuming. It dawns on me slowly, realization filtering through the fog in my brain.
Is this it?
My first full heat.
I’m in heat.
But that’s not possible. Heats are supposed to build gradually, predictably. This is like being dropped into a furnace. My body temperature skyrocketing without warning.
And the need . It claws at me from the inside, frantic and ravenous. I’ve never felt so empty, so hollow. I need…something. Someone .
My hand slides across my bare stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I should stop. I know I should. But the heat pulls at me, insistent, overwhelming. My palm cups my breast, and the sensation sends a jolt through me so intense, I gasp.
“Alpha,” I whimper, not sure where the word comes from, not even sure what alpha I’m calling for.
As my fingers graze over my hardened nipple, I gasp, inhaling hard. A scent reaches me, faint but distinctive. Alpha. My heart leaps, but then sinks just as quickly. It’s wrong. Not the right alpha. Not mine .
Mine? Do I have an alpha? The question feels important, crucial even, but trying to answer it is like grasping at smoke.
My fingers continue their exploration, trailing down between my thighs where I grow slick and swollen. The first touch makes me arch, a moan escaping my lips before I can stop it. The relief is immediate but fleeting. Not enough. Not nearly enough.
“Please,” I whisper to the empty room. “Please…”
Please what? Who am I begging? My fingers move faster, driven by instinct rather than thought. The pleasure builds, sharp and sweet, but it’s like trying to fill an ocean with a teaspoon. Each moment of relief is swallowed by greater need.
Something hard digs into my calf, and my fingers tighten, closing around a small object. A…syringe? Why do I have a syringe? I want to throw it away so I can use both of my hands to curb this need, but something stops me.
The syringe is important, but I don’t know why.
Swallowing hard, another moan bubbles in my throat as my free hand moves over my clit. I lift the other that’s holding the syringe. It’s empty.
The sight of it triggers a flash of memory—convulsions, foam at my mouth, feigning unconsciousness.
Why? Why would I pretend? And who was I trying to fool?
Heath. The name surfaces suddenly, bringing with it a wave of disgust so powerful it momentarily cuts through the haze of heat. Veyra Heath. Widow.
And someone else…
An alpha I can’t remember.
The memories slip away before I can grasp them fully, dragged under by another wave of heat-induced need. My body doesn’t care about names or memories. It wants only one thing.
My fingers move urgently now, chasing relief that seems just out of reach. Slick coats my thighs, my scent growing stronger with every passing minute. It’s too much. I’m burning alive from the inside out.
I buck shamelessly against my hand, unable to stop myself, when a sound catches my attention—a muffled groan or growl. I look up, squinting through the pink-tinted light.
For the first time, I realize I’m not alone.
There’s a figure across the room, behind what looks like glass. An alpha. Male. Strapped to a chair, his face a mask of agony and fury.
Something about him…something familiar. Dark hair. Strong jaw. Eyes that burn with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
I know him. Don’t I?
The thought sends a fresh wave of slick between my thighs, my body responding to his presence even if my mind can’t place him. Is he real? Or a hallucination brought on by the heat and whatever drugs they’ve pumped into me?
“Alpha?” I call uncertainly.
No response, just more muffled sounds. He’s gagged, I realize. And hurt. Even through my distorted vision, I can see blood on his skin, on his face.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I don’t understand why. Why should I cry for an alpha I don’t know? Except…I do know him. Don’t I?
I slide from the chair to my knees, my legs too weak to support me. The concrete floor is cold against my overheated skin, but I barely notice. I need to get closer to the alpha. Need to see his face clearly.
I crawl forward on hands and knees, each movement sending fresh pulses of arousal through me. The friction of my thighs against each other is almost unbearable. I stop, pressing my hand between my legs again, unable to resist.
“I can’t,” I gasp, not sure what I’m refusing. “I need… I need…”
You . The word hangs unspoken in the air. I need you, alpha. Whoever you are .
I reach the glass, pressing my slick-coated palm against it. The alpha’s expression shifts, something like hope flaring in his eyes. He’s beautiful, I realize, despite the bruises and blood. Or maybe because of them. There’s something fierce and wild about him that calls to the most primitive part of me.
He tries to speak, but the words are unintelligible through the gag. His eyes, though—they’re screaming at me. Trying to tell me something important.
The heat surges again, and I whimper, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. My free hand moves between my legs again, seeking relief I know won’t come. Not like this. Not without him.
“Alpha,” I breathe, my breath fogging the glass. “Help me.”
He strains against his bonds, muscles bulging with effort. The leather creaks but holds. Blood trickles from his wrists where the restraints have cut into his skin.
A flicker of memory—him standing with three others, all looking at me as if I belonged.
Home .
The word resonates through me like a struck bell. Home. I had a home. Didn’t I?
Pack. Home. Mine .
Three words. A mantra. My mantra? They feel right in a way nothing else does at this moment.
“I know you,” I whisper, staring at the alpha. “Don’t I?”
He nods frantically, eyes burning with intensity.
More fragments of memory surface—a gala, beautiful lights, a sense of belonging. Then terror. Pain. Darkness.
“Ren,” I breathe, the name coming to me suddenly, clear as crystal. “Your name is Ren.”
His eyes widen, relief flooding his features. He nods again, more urgently.
Ren. The name feels right in my mouth, familiar and precious. But who is he to me? Friend? Protector? Lover?
Pack.
The word appears in my mind again, insistent. Pack. Family. Mine .
“We’re p-pack,” I say, testing the words. They ring true, cutting through the chemical haze for a moment.
Behind me, a door opens.
“Jesus Christ,” a male voice mutters. “Look at you. Gagging for it already.”
I turn slowly, still on my knees. A beta stands in the doorway, his expression a mixture of disgust and lust. The sight of him triggers another flash of memory—this same beta, watching dispassionately as I convulsed on the floor.
“She’s fully responsive to the heat induction,” he says clinically, speaking into a small recorder as he approaches. “Physically aroused, seeking relief.” His gaze flicks over me then to Ren. “No apparent recognition of former pack member.”
But I do recognize him. Don’t I? The name Ren feels important. Vital. But the connection keeps slipping through my grasp.
The beta approaches, wrinkling his nose at my scent. “Christ, you’re potent. Heath’s going to need to adjust the formula. Caldwell won’t last five minutes if you’re this ready.”
Caldwell. Another flash—a distinguished man, silver at his temples, his hand on my shoulder, possessive and wrong.
I met him at the gala… I remember him… from…
“No,” I whisper, though I’m not sure what I’m refusing.
The beta ignores me, continuing to dictate notes. “The omega remains verbal, but disoriented. Perfect for initial bonding.” He crouches beside me, using a finger to lift a strand of my hair away from my face. “Can you tell me your name?”
I stare at him blankly. My name? What is my name?
“Hailey,” I say finally, the word uncertain on my tongue.
“Good. And who is that?” He points at Ren.
I turn to look at the alpha behind the glass. His eyes plead with me, desperate and afraid. Why is he afraid?
I stare at him, the look in his eyes boring into mine. And it slowly dawns. He’s afraid…but not for himself. For me .
“Alpha,” I answer.
The beta nods, satisfied. “Very good. Now, I need you to come with me. We need to clean you up before Mr. Caldwell returns.” He stands, offering his hand. “Come on.”
I don’t move. Something’s wrong. This is wrong. I shouldn’t go with him. I shouldn’t leave…Ren? Is that really his name?
“ Now , omega,” the beta says, his tone hardening. He reaches down, grabbing my upper arm roughly. “Don’t make this difficult.”
The syringe is still in my hand, hidden against my thigh. I’m not sure why I’ve been holding it, but suddenly I’m very glad I am.
As he pulls me to my feet, another wave of heat washes over me, making my knees buckle. I fall against him, and he instinctively catches me, his face twisting with disgust.
“Disgusting bitch,” he mutters. “You’re getting your slick all over me.”
The words hit like a slap. Bitch. Disgusting. Familiar words. Words that have been thrown at me before, by him? By others? Anger flares, hot and sudden, cutting through the fog of heat and drugs.
“Let go of me,” I say. My voice comes out steady. Steadier than I expected.
The beta laughs. “Or what, omega? You can barely stand.” His grip tightens painfully. “Now move.”
Behind him, Ren thrashes against his restraints, muffled roars of rage coming from behind his gag. The beta glances over his shoulder, smirking.
“Your alpha’s getting quite the show, isn’t he? Wonder how he’ll feel watching Caldwell knot you. Think he’ll break before or after you start begging for it?”
Something snaps inside me. A dam breaking, memories and emotions flooding back in a chaotic rush.
The gala. Recognizing Veyra. Being taken. The drugs. The tests.
And Ren. My alpha. My pack.
Pack. Home. Mine.
The mantra isn’t just words. It’s who I am. Who we are together.
“I said,” I growl, “let go of me.”
The beta’s eyes widen at my tone, his grip loosening slightly in surprise. It’s all the opening I need.
I don’t plan. I just lash out with the syringe still clutched in my fist.
Our bodies collide. The needle strikes sideways across his face first, a glancing blow that makes him howl. He reels back, but I surge forward, blind panic and heat-hazed instinct driving me, and this time the plunger catches on his shirt as I thrust upward.
The needle slips past his flailing arm. Finds soft resistance.
His scream curdles the air as the syringe embeds itself not in his cheek as I’d aimed, but deep in the corner of his left eye. Blood wells instantly around the plastic barrel, shockingly red against his pale skin.
The sound he makes causes my ears to ring. His hands fly to his face, releasing me as he staggers backward, blood streaming between his fingers.
“You BITCH!” he howls. “You fucking BITCH!”
I stumble away from him, my legs still weak, my body still burning with the heat. But my mind is clearer now, more focused with crystal clarity on what needs to happen next.
I need to get to Ren. I need to free him. I need to get us both out of here before Heath and Caldwell return.
The beta lurches toward me blindly, one hand still pressed to his ruined eye. “I’ll kill you for this,” he snarls. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
I scramble away, looking frantically for a weapon, a tool, anything. My gaze lands on the chair I was sitting in. Metal. Heavy. It will have to do.
I lunge for it, dragging it between us with strength I didn’t know I possessed. The beta charges, colliding with the chair. It topples, taking him down with it in a tangle of limbs and metal.
I don’t wait to see if he’ll get up. The door he came through is still open. My escape route.
But Ren. I can’t leave him.
I glance back at him, torn. He’s staring at me intently, shaking his head. Go, he seems to be saying. Run .
I can’t. I won’t.
“I’ll be back,” I promise him, the words sounding ridiculous even as I say them. I’m naked, drugged, in the middle of my heat. What exactly do I think I’m going to do?
I don’t know. But I know I can’t leave him.
The beta groans, beginning to push himself up. No more time.
I sprint for the door, adrenaline temporarily overriding the weakness in my limbs, the ache at the center of my thighs. The corridor beyond is dimly lit, empty. Which way?
The hallway stretches endlessly in both directions, sterile white walls bleeding into shadow. My bare feet slap against cold tile as I run, every breath ragged and too loud in my ears. I don’t know where I’m going. Don’t care. Just away .
Get out. Find help. Save Ren.
But then?—
Hands .
They grab me from behind, yanking me backward so hard my teeth snap together. My vision whites out for a second, pain radiating through my scalp where fingers are tangled in my hair.
“Did you really think you could run?” A voice snarls in my ear. The beta—his face a mess of blood from where I stabbed him —jerks me around to face him. His good eye is wild with fury. “You ruined my fucking eye, you cunt!”
Spittle hits my cheek as he screams. I struggle, but the heat is cresting again, making my limbs heavy, my thoughts syrupy slow. I need a knot. I need to come.
My body reacts to the sensation of the male behind me, my thoughts phasing into the need. The urge to find pleasure.
No, no, no ? —
He drags me back the way I came, my toes scrabbling for purchase on the slick floor. The room where Ren is being held comes into view, the door still hanging open.
And inside?—
Veyra Heath.
She stands perfectly composed, arms crossed, lips pursed in displeasure. Next to her, the alpha, the one that smells wrong, Caldwell, his face flushed with anger.
“What the hell happened here?” Veyra snaps as the beta shoves me forward. I stumble, crashing to my knees at her feet.
“She attacked me,” the beta snarls, clutching his ruined eye. “Bitch jammed a fucking syringe in my?—”
“Shut up. I don’t care.” Veyra’s voice is ice. “Go deal with it. And send someone to clean up this mess.”
The beta hesitates, glaring down at me with undisguised hatred. “What about?—?”
“Go.”
He leaves, muttering curses under his breath. The door clicks shut behind him, sealing me in with Veyra, Robert Caldwell, and?—
Ren .
I can feel his gaze on me through the glass, burning hotter than the heat coursing through my veins. But I can’t look at him. Can’t let them see that I remember .
“Pathetic,” Caldwell mutters, adjusting his cuffs with trembling fingers. “This is what I paid for? A feral bitch who can’t even?—”
“She’s in heat , Robert,” Veyra interrupts smoothly. “Surely you’ve seen an omega react to induction drugs before?”
His jaw tightens. “Not like this.”
Veyra sighs, stepping toward me. She crouches, tilting my chin up with one perfectly manicured finger.
“Look at me, omega.”
I do, because I have no choice. Her eyes are fathomless, cold. No mercy there.
“Do you know where you are?”
I shake my head. Lie.
“Good.” She smiles. “Do you know who I am?”
Another shake.
“Even better.” Her gaze flicks to Caldwell. “And him? Do you remember Alpha Caldwell?”
I hesitate. Too long.
Veyra’s fingers tighten on my chin, her nails digging in. “Answer me.”
“N-no,” I whisper.
Lie. Lie .
Caldwell exhales sharply. “She’s lying.”
Veyra studies me for a long moment before releasing me with a shove. “Perhaps.” She straightens, brushing invisible lint from her clothes. “But it doesn’t matter now. The drugs have done their job. She’s pliant. Receptive .” Her lips curl. “And very, very ready for you, Robert.”
Caldwell’s expression darkens with something hungry. He steps closer. His scent—expensive cologne and alpha musk—makes my stomach roil. Wrong. All wrong.
“Stand up,” he orders.
I don’t move fast enough. He grabs my arm, hauling me to my feet with a grunt. My legs wobble, but he holds me upright, his grip bruising.
“Let’s see how receptive she really is,” he mutters, dragging me toward the glass where Ren is restrained.
No no no ?—
Caldwell spins me hard, slamming my front against the glass. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs. Ren is right there —inches away, his face a mask of fury as he strains against his restraints. I can see the veins bulging in his neck, the way his teeth grind behind the gag.
“Omega,” Caldwell purrs into my ear, his breath hot and cloying with orange rind. One hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back painfully. “Do you recognize this male?”
I swallow, my throat clicking. Yes . The word burns in my chest, but I bite it back.
Caldwell’s free hand slides down my side, possessive and cruel, before cupping between my thighs. I jerk, but he holds me firm, fingers dipping into my slick without hesitation.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling his hand away, glistening with my arousal. “You’re dripping .” He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a hum of appreciation. “Sweet. Like honey.” His eyes flick to Ren. “Bet you remember how she tastes, don’t you, Ironwood?”
Ren snarls, the sound muffled but no less vicious.
Caldwell chuckles, pressing closer, his erection digging into my back. “Shame things had to turn out this way.” His fingers trail back down, circling my clit with mocking precision. I whimper, my body betraying me, hips twitching into his touch. “I was looking forward to doing business with you and your pack over in Burlington. But just like with your father…” He leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Sometimes ties need to be cut .”
Ren goes still. Too still.
Caldwell notices, grinning. “Ah. That got your attention, didn’t it?” He turns me roughly, forcing me to face him, my naked body on full display. His fingers dig into my jaw, pushing me to my knees, toward the obvious bulge in his pants. “Lick.”
The command hits me like a blow to the senses, alpha command slamming through my resistance. My tongue darts out before I can stop it, dragging over the fabric. The taste of expensive wool and salt makes my stomach churn.
“Good girl,” Caldwell croons, petting my hair like I’m some obedient pet.
Through the haze of shame and heat, I catch Ren in my peripheral vision. He’s not looking at me. Not anymore. His gaze is fixed on Caldwell, his expression terrifyingly blank.
There’s…nothing there.
That hurts worse than anything Caldwell could do to me.
Caldwell sighs, satisfied. “She’s broken in enough.” He releases me, adjusting himself with a grimace. “I’ll take her now.”
Veyra waves a hand dismissively. “By all means.”
As Caldwell drags me toward the door, I risk one last glance at Ren.
His eyes meet mine. Empty. A chill runs down my spine.
Veyra lets out a breath as two bulky alphas wearing gas masks and combat gear enter the room. They react, grimacing, eyes finding me at the same moment I become aware of their presence.
“Focus!” Heath snaps. With one finger, she points to the glass. To Ren. “Take care of him. Make sure nothing is left and clean up afterwards.”
No .
The alphas move toward Ren’s cell. A panel in the wall, a code punched in, and the glass barrier rises.
No no no ?—
Caldwell yanks me into the hallway. The last thing I see before the door swings shut is Ren’s face, his eyes locked on mine, those ice-blue eyes the coldest I’ve ever seen them.
Hollow.
Empty.
Something inside me fractures. Not breaks. Breaks would mean there were pieces left to pick up. This is dissolution. The quiet understanding that this room, this moment, is where everything ends.
No last stand. No daring rescue.
This is my fault.
A sob claws up my throat but dies unborn.
Caldwell’s grip tightens as he drags me away, but I don’t fight. What’s left to fight for? I got my pack killed. Got my mate killed.
And now the last thing I’ll ever see is Ren learning to hate me with his dying breath.