Chapter 3
The open shower was the worst.
Ehlian couldn’t move an inch without brushing against an alpha, and the bastards didn’t make it any easier.
He got it. He was fresh, unclaimed meat.
But that didn’t mean they had to act like feral animals.
Decency clearly wasn’t part of their vocabulary, though he doubted half of them even knew the word.
There should have been a separate shower room for omegas, but he’d long since accepted that rules didn’t apply here. Bribe the guards, and they’d look the other way.
Sometimes Ehlian wondered if his uncle had orchestrated his transfer here, hoping he’d be killed off. It wouldn’t have surprised him.
The shower was eerily silent as the inmates faced the wall, water streaming over their bowed heads. Ehlian was the only one with his back to the spray, his eyes scanning the room like a cornered animal, ready for an attack.
One day left until the unspoken deadline.
Grasson’s hulking frame stood out even among the other alphas. His thick muscles flexed as he moved, water running down his broad back. Ehlian wondered how a brute like him had ended up here. Probably hugged someone and broke all their bones.
He made the mistake of lingering too long. Grasson turned, dark, nearly black eyes locking onto him.
Cold fear shot through Ehlian.
Fuck.
Telepaths.
Every alpha here could sense attention like predators scenting blood.
Grasson’s gaze roamed over Ehlian’s body, like it was nothing more than a thing to use and discard once he grew bored.
Something unspoken shifted in the air.
Ehlian froze as Grasson began to move towards him, each step louder than the last. Fear crawling over his skin, he was torn between fleeing and standing his ground.
Then Grasson stopped. Abruptly, mid-stride, his eyes darted above Ehlian’s shoulder.
Ehlian sensed him before he saw him. A shadow. Heat radiating at his back. Hayce was so close their bodies almost touched, the paper-thin space between them charged with tension.
“Me or him?” Hayce’s deep voice slid into his ear.
Ehlian’s gaze didn’t leave Grasson. The massive alpha’s wariness was plain as day, his stiff stance almost retreating. If even Grasson feared Hayce, what was Ehlian supposed to feel?
Ehlian swallowed thickly. “You.”
Grasson’s jaw clenched. Without a word, he turned on his heel and left the shower.
Warm fingers brushed against Ehlian’s hip, tracing lazy circles over his damp skin, staking a quiet claim for any alpha in the room to see.
“Good choice,” Hayce murmured.
“I have a boyfriend,” Ehlian blurted out.
Hayce laughed softly. “The one who dumped you the second the guilty verdict came in?”
Ehlian’s face burned. He hadn’t just guessed. He knew. The bastard knew everything, even about Geald abandoning him, and he wasn’t above mocking his heartbreak. Fury bubbled in Ehlian’s chest, rippling through his telepathic power, ready to—
‘Control your anger.’ Hayce’s voice slithered into his mind, calm but commanding. ‘You don’t want to make a scene. Unless we form a pack bond, Grasson will come for you, and he won’t do it the civilised way.’
‘Fuck you.’
Hayce’s thumb brushed another teasing circle against Ehlian’s hip, sending an unwanted spark through him. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?’
Ehlian clenched his fists. ‘You can’t force me to sleep with you.’
‘I won’t force you,’ Hayce’s thumb stilled. ‘Eventually, you’ll come to me.’
‘I won’t ever come to you,’ Ehlian said stubbornly, ignoring the motionless warmth of Hayce’s thumb. ‘And I’m not bonding with you. Try whatever you want.’
‘Tough luck, pretty boy,’ Hayce’s mental tone was mocking. ‘My deal or no deal.’
In many countries, pack bonds were seen as old-fashioned relics of a bygone era. In others, they were associated with criminal groups, tools for gang leaders and overlords to ensure loyalty and obedience from their members. Of course, Ehlian was in the perfect place for such traditions to thrive.
But he also knew there was more to it than that. Protection. Belonging. A pack bond meant being part of a tight-knit circle of alphas and omegas who always looked out for each other. Pack bonds weren’t permanent. They could be severed easily once the ties no longer served their purpose.
That was the part he clung to. Once he left this shithole, Hayce wouldn’t want to stay linked to him. Hayce had said it himself.
“Alright,” Ehlian said, jaw tight. “Do it.”
“Turn around.”
Reluctantly, Ehlian obeyed, questioning his sheer stupidity for agreeing to this madness, for letting a bond form with someone who had shattered his own father’s mind.
But the moment he met Hayce’s amber eyes, his mind went blank.
All he felt was Hayce’s telepathic power slipping past his weakened mental shield and brushing against his core.
It was probing, tentative at first, offering him one last chance to resist. In the end, Ehlian let out a shaky breath and gave in, allowing their powers to entwine.
The bond formed slowly, with a tangible weight that left his mind momentarily spinning.
Then, it was like peering into the heart of the pack's hierarchy. Hayce stood solidly at the top, a monolithic presence that cast a shadow over the structure. Below him was Aric, followed by the rest of the pack. And there Ehlian was, at the very bottom of the pyramid.
When his senses returned, Hayce was already gone, leaving him standing there flushed and confused.
Ehlian became painfully aware that everyone was watching him. His face burned bright red as he snapped, “What are you staring at?”
The response was maddening. While most of the inmates hastily turned away, mutters of “You owe me” filled the air. Ehlian’s jaw clenched. Of course they had been betting.
Who in their right mind had even bet on Grasson?
Despite his annoyance, the immediate change was undeniable. The alphas around him gave him space now, their interest fading.
His peace didn’t last long. Aric moved to block his path. “Don’t get too attached to him.”
Ehlian blinked, caught off guard. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Just saying,” Aric replied, his tone light.
“Save your breath next time.”
Ehlian pushed past him, biting down his anger. Attached to Hayce? He’d sooner break a window and let himself get sucked into the vacuum of space.
That smug bastard wasn’t worth an ounce of his affection.
Or his trust.