40. Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
Wren
I might not have woken up again in pain from being slammed to the ground and restrained, but the shivers were enough to make my muscles ache.
It was freezing in here. And of course, I was dressed in one of those hideous gray dresses and had one, thin, scratchy blanket to wrap around myself.
What irked the shit out of me was how many times I’d been held in this exact room. In fact, if I were to move the cot away from the wall, I would see tally marks from one of my longer stays when I was trying to keep track of the duration of my captivity.
At this point, I can’t even remember every offense that ended up with me being locked up, being starved, even getting hosed with ice cold water.
Huddling in the corner and keeping the blanket wrapped as tightly around myself as I could, I peeked down the bond.
My bottom lip trembled and tears burned my eyes at the absence of my pack. Either they’d locked it down, or the Center had found a way to dissolve our bond.
Surely, something like that couldn’t happen overnight. Or, you know, without the participation of at least one of us.
As much as I didn’t want them to feel my fear, my pain, all the worries running through my heart and head, I needed them to remain grounded. I needed to feel them, to feel their reassurance they wouldn’t give up, that they wouldn’t give me up.
Three days. At least I thought it had been three days. There was no light in this room, so I was basing it on how many meals were delivered.
Not that those outside the Center would consider the crap they served us meals. They usually consisted of a mushy vegetable, some kind of meat that I wasn’t positive didn’t come out of a can, and stale bread.
But at least I wasn’t starving. There were more than a few occasions when the Center had restricted my meals in hopes of making me weak. Obviously, a weak omega is more pliable.
Joke was on them. Even in those days, I’d still fought, still attempted to escape.
It was also the third day I couldn’t feel even a glimmer of my bond to my pack.
I would know if it had been severed, wouldn’t I? There would be some kind of pain or discomfort…right?
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I pushed to my feet and began to pace the six by eight feet of this stupid room. Concrete walls. Concrete ceiling. Concrete floor. And one fluorescent light flickering overhead, the light and buzzing grating on my nerves and causing my eyes to strain.
Much longer of that shit and I’d end up with a headache. And if my years here taught me anything it was that no one would bother bringing me a damn thing for the pain.
When footsteps clomped down the hall, I moved closer to the door and tried to peer through the glass a few inches above my eyeline. The betas and alphas could easily look in at me, but I was on my tiptoes and still straining to catch a glimpse of anyone.
Whoever it was stopped a few doors down. Keys jingled. The squeak of hinges echoed down the hall, then the raised and panicked voice of an omega sounded as though it was bouncing off every wall, the sound imbedding itself into my psyche.
Smashed up against the door, I practically tried to climb it to see what was happening. Then I resorted to jumping, barely getting a glimpse of an omega being dragged from her room.
That sight…
No. I didn’t know exactly why they were taking her from her room, whether it was for training, conditioning, or maybe she’d been sold to a new pack, but none of those options sounded remotely pleasant.
At no point would I ever be able to physically fight off the guards in this place, but it didn’t stop me when I was a full time resident and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop me now.
Honestly, it wasn’t the punishments or even conditioning I feared – it was being given to another pack, to another group of alphas.
I had a pack. I had my mates. And I could honestly say I truly loved them, regardless of how rocky our relationship had started and how reluctant I’d been to accepting my place in their lives.
When was the last time I bothered accepting the food they left me? A day? Two days?
I’d lost track of how long I’d been here at this point. Could be a week. Could be a month.
No. There was no way I’d been here a month. There was no way my pack wouldn’t have come for me within that span of time.
Yet…
The bond was still silent. I couldn’t feel so much as a whisper of anything from a single one of them. Not Dean. Not Doran. Not a single one of my alphas.
Which, of course, was what sent me into this downward emotional and mental spiral. I didn’t want to believe they’d willingly walked away from me, maybe even accepted another omega who would be meek and subservient.
But the longer I was away from them, the harder that sense of rejection was settling into my bones. The rational side of my brain might have told me one thing, but the omega side was way louder.
They don’t want you.
You’re too much work.
They want someone willing to give them everything.
They want a good omega.
They want an obedient omega.
“They love me,” I whispered out loud.
I had to believe that. Until I heard otherwise from their mouths, I refused to believe otherwise.
“She refuses to eat,” someone said from outside my cell door.
“Take her to the infirmary. Dr. Creise will need to insert the feeding tube again.”
I didn’t know who was talking about me outside my door and I really didn’t care.
It had been at least two weeks since I’d been dragged to this room. I wasn’t even allowed out to shower, merely given a bucket of lukewarm water, a bar of soap, and a washcloth.
Yeah, they gave me a towel to dry off before tossing a clean gray tunic at me, but the towel wasn’t much bigger than the washcloth and felt like sandpaper against my skin.
I’d only seen the guards. After watching that omega being dragged away screaming, I couldn’t bring myself to look through the glass again, regardless of what I heard.
“She’s going to fight it,” the first person said.
“The bitch fights everything,” dude two said.
No. I wouldn’t fight it. I didn’t have any fight left in me. I felt…hollow. Like there was a hole in the middle of my chest where my heart and soul had been ripped away.
I wouldn’t fight, but I didn’t plan to walk out the door of my own volition. They would have to either wheel me out in a chair or carry me.
Though, knowing these assholes, they would probably drag me by my hair.
Deciding I didn’t relish the idea of losing hair, I rolled off my cot and pushed to my feet, lifting my eyes to where they were watching me through the glass square on the door.
One of the guards frowned, but it looked more confused than angry.
“Get ready,” he said to the beta beside him, the top of his head a few inches lower than the alpha guard’s.
I took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, my shoulders drooping. They thought I was preparing to fight. Which, of course, tracked with my history here.
But I wouldn’t. I’d go along with whatever they demanded of me within reason. I wouldn’t allow anyone to fuck me and I sure as hell wouldn’t allow any of them to either cover or remove my marks.
If my pack decided I wasn’t worth it, they would have to be here and look me in the eye as the doctors dissolved the bond and left surgical cuts through the silvery crescents around my throat and on my breast.
Holding my hands out, I put my wrists together. It wasn’t uncommon for the guards to bind my wrists with either handcuffs or zip ties.
There was a metal sliding sound, a clunk, then the big, heavy metal door swung inward.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the alpha guard asked.
I shrugged up one shoulder. I barely even had the energy for that let alone fighting against these two.
It could have been from the lack of food, fresh air, and sunshine. But I was pretty sure it was the lack of my pack, the absence of their scents and purrs, and the bone deep sense of rejection regardless of my rational side rebelling against that concept when it came to the five men who fought for my heart.
“I won’t fight,” I muttered. It was barely above a whisper.
The guard’s eyes narrowed, and I tried to remember his name. For the most part, a majority of the employees at the Center had been here for nearly as long as I had. If they were paid to control and abuse omegas, why would they want to leave?
In the end, I decided it didn’t matter what his name was because if my pack came to get me, I would never see him again.
And if they didn’t come to get me…
One way or another, I would find a way to end my life the moment the bond was dissolved.