Chapter 4
Broken Basement, The Institute
Agony.
Blinding.
Searing.
Like flames.
Throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.
In my head, throat, even my teeth.
Am I dying?
Hurts.
I whine.
Where am I? What’s happening?
Alpha…
Except, I can’t feel him.
Fletcher’s not coming because he did this to me.
He officially broke our bond.
I’m alone and I’m suffering Broken Bond Syndrome.
My heart speeds up, as panic grips me.
Where the hell has he sent me? Did he let me return home to my Saint Pack? To Thomas?
Yet this doesn’t smell like home.
I’m lying on something hard. I scrunch up my nose at the musty, mildew stench. I don’t recognize it.
My throat is dry with thirst, and my stomach cramps with hunger.
I struggle to open my eyes, but in fear, I realize that I can’t.
“She not sleeping, Daddy. Look!” An excited young girl’s voice exclaims.
I startle.
“Well noticed, honey. I knew that there was a reason I promoted you to Head Nurse,” a rich male voice drawls.
Then I startle, as someone touches my forehead like I remember Thomas doing for me, when we were kids and I had the flu.
But why is someone caring for me so tenderly?
As the man leans closer, even through my pain, I catch his scent.
And it floors me because it’s like paradise.
He’s a male Omega…and he’s my scent match.
He smells of delicious plum cake with a citrus tang underneath.
I’ve never been hit this powerfully by any scent before.
I fell in love with Gabriel because he was my friend first and over a thousand shared experiences and precious moments.
I remember the time that Gabriel played Fortnight with me for ten hours straight (but let me win). How he taught me to sing X Ambassador’s “Renegades”, while he accompanied me on acoustic guitar and how strong it always made me feel afterward to sing the words to myself at night and drive away my nightmares. The times that it was me doctoring to his busted lip, and he whispered his own fears that his absent dad, a general in the army, would force him to join up as well.
I fell in love with him because he was my perfect Alpha.
But this…?
This is what the old-fashioned romances talk about.
And I’m so scent starved that it hits me like a wall of water, putting out the flames or at least, dampening them for the moment.
Delirious still, my eyes snap open.
I find myself staring into a pair of piercing jade eyes.
A male Omega stares at me in surprise.
He’s kneeling next to me and leaning over to study my face, as he holds my wrist and checks my pulse.
I can’t focus on anything else.
He’s tall and in his late twenties.
He has straight inky black hair like a waterfall. He’s dressed in a stylish jade suit.
The Omega’s suit, however, is ripped and dirty, even though he’s still wearing it as neatly as he can. There are suspicious patches that must be blood.
There’s an equally suspicious purple bruise along his jaw.
Pretty bird decorations swoop on his waistcoat.
Bird decorations….?
Shit, is this the other Brok and his daughter?
The broken songbird?
My stomach clenches.
Is Fletcher cruel enough to have hidden me away in the Institute?
Songbird — my songbird — is the most beautiful man who I’ve ever seen.
“Welcome to Brok Cell. Facilities are rather lacking, but I like to think that the company makes up for it.” His lips curl. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your beautiful eyes, cupcake. Hmm, aquamarine. I lost the bet. Millie, you got closer. That means two stories before your nap.”
He begins to pull away, but I weakly grasp onto his sleeve. “Mine.”
I’m weak, confused, and barely conscious.
But that’s the one thing I’m certain about.
He’s mine.
Songbird’s eyebrow arches. “You sound like Millie now. Everything’s mine, mine, mine. At least, when she’s not demanding why. Why can’t we have chocolate for breakfast? Why do Mommy and you sleep in different beds? Why do boys have tails?”
“Why we in time-out? We bad? Bad, bad Omegas?” A cute Omega girl (obviously this Millie), with a violet ribbon in her long, curly black hair, who looks about three years old, bounces to stand next to Songbird.
She’s dressed in a violet silk dress that was once pretty but now is smeared with stains.
The Rej bracelet that’s locked around her tiny wrist isn’t pretty at all.
It’s a steel bracelet with a twisted R that hangs like an ugly charm from it, holding technology inside that will alert the government if anyone tries to remove it.
It marks her out for the rest of her life as a Reject.
Songbird’s expression freezes, and he can’t hide the wince.
Then he puts on a forced smile. “You’re a good Omega. The best. Daddy broke some rules, not you. So, we’re here because of what I did, okay?”
Millie’s small face scrunches up in fury. “Daddy good. Will rescue Daddy.”
“I’m sure that you will. But after naptime.” Then he turns back to me, holding up a chipped mug, which is filled with grimy water. “Now, you drink up, then naptime for you too. I’m Lark, by the way.”
I shake my head, trying to reach for Lark’s sleeve again.
I need his scent or touch…something.
Without the bond, I feel alone and shattered into a thousand shards.
Lark gives me an understanding smile. But then, he’s been through this. He had his daughter with him but he had to look after her.
He really is strong.
“Would you like my suit jacket?” He offers casually. “You’re only dressed in nightwear, and even if you feel like you’re hotter than the sun, it’s actually freezing in here.”
We both know that’s not why I need his jacket.
Lark’s giving me a shrewd look.
He’s not sweet or submissive. He’s so masculine that he makes me want to snuggle against his chest.
Yet he’s as much an Omega as me.
He understands my needs.
I nod.
Lark puts down the mug and slips off his jacket with an elegant shrug of his shoulders. He clearly comes from just as an elite pack as I do.
Why the hell would anyone break their bond with a man like him?
Gently, he lays his jacket over me. I don’t care that it’s dirty and stained; it smells of him. I bury my face in its collar, running my fingers over its soft material.
My whimpers turn to purring.
Millie claps. “Pretty Omega. Pretty purr.”
“Out of the mouths of babes.” Lark’s smiling, and he starts to purr as well.
It’s an adorable sound, deep and rumbling. It makes me want to nuzzle against his neck and feel the vibrations of our purrs intermingle.
I blush.
How is it possible that we can purr, when we’re locked up? It should only be possible, when we’re safe and happy.
I never purred with Fletcher.
Lark’s still purring as he picks up the mug and holds it to my lips.
Before I can drink, however, I’m slipping back into unconsciousness.
For days, I struggle between waking and sleeping.
Delirious, I know that I’m ranting. I’m not sure what I’m saying but I’m writhing in agony.
The only thing that soothes me is a scent — plum cake — and I nuzzle closer to it.
Sometimes, it feels like I’m being held in someone’s arms.
Is it the fever? Am I only smelling the jacket?
Or is Lark helping me?
I can feel his elegant fingers pressing against my forehead and helping me to drink.
I can hear his soothing voice.
Touch starved, I lean into every sweep of his fingers and massage of my aching temples.
I’d have died without him.
No one else comes to the cell.
No one else comes to me in my pain.
Only Lark.
Then one day, my eyes flutter open, and my mind is more lucid. The fever has died down to embers.
Even though a low level headache is throbbing in my temples, it’s no longer blinding.
The fuzziness in my mind has cleared.
I still feel like the strength has been drained from my body, but finally, I’m able to look around and see where I’ve been living for weeks.
The Brok Cell is in the basement of the Institute.
With a sickening flood of memories, everything that Fletcher has told me about this place comes back to me.
This is where the Discipline Rooms are, along with the cells for the most resistant of Omegas who rebel even against the Institute’s training.
This is the place that his family designed every Omega to fear ending up. When they first arrive, they’re brought on a tour of the basement to make them grateful for what they do have and to work hard because they don’t want to become one of the poor unfortunates locked below, unable to even see the sky.
Apparently, fear is one of the best motivators.
Fletcher said that with a laugh.
How could he?
Brok Cell is tiny and dark. It’s bleak and harsh. The floors, walls, and ceiling are built of unforgiving concrete.
No longer ravaged by the worst of the Broken Bond Syndrome, I shiver. I can see my breath puffing in mists into the freezing air.
Isn’t there any heating?
There’s no furniture in the cell, only a single stained mattress, which I’m lying on in the corner. In the opposite corner is a stinking bucket.
My eyes widen in horror.
Fuck, Lark must have been helping me not only to drink and wash but to…
I flush.
How can I repay this man?
I knew, for fleeting moments between the pain, that I was dying.
But the scent match connection, the attentive and loving touches, the purring, and Lark’s sometimes desperate voice calling to me, brought me back from the brink.
I feel like I’m bonded to him, and that bond, is what’s started to mend my Soul.
There aren’t any windows in the cell, and the only light comes from outside the cell through the bars on one wall that lead into a narrow concrete corridor with cold strip lighting that’s flickering.
Now, I truly do feel like a bird in a cage.
Has Fletcher been watching me? Am I part of his case study?
Claustrophobic, I try to steady my breathing.
Lark’s jacket is tucked over me like a blanket. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me warm, and it cocoons me in its plum scent.
It makes me feel safe, when I know that I’m anything but. This other Omega, who my bonded Alpha has tormented, has done that for me.
He’s nursed me through my broken bond, when he’s suffering too.
My chest is tight.
I can’t let him find out. I’m trapped in this cell with him.
I can’t escape. I’m his enemy.
What will he do, when he discovers what pack I used to be from?
Because I’m packless now.
I don’t belong with anyone or anywhere.
I bite my lip to hold in the whine of distress.
Cobwebs swing from the grimy ceiling, but the cell itself looks like someone has been doing their best to keep it clean.
Lark.
I keep my gaze half-hooded so that I can study him, before he can realize that I’m awake.
Or more likely, my Head Nurse, Millie.
Lark is sitting on the hard floor with his long legs pulled up underneath him. His daughter is cradled on his knee.
The only blanket in the room is draped snugly around Millie’s shoulders.
Lark is pale, and there are deep, purple circles underneath his eyes. He looks exhausted.
He’s shivering.
He tucks the blanket more securely around Millie. “Want to play another game, honey?”
She peers up at him. “Share blankie?”
Lark shakes his head. “I’m as hot as a volcano.”
He shakes her in his arms, making the noise of an exploding volcano, and she giggles.
“Silly daddy.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
My heart clenches, when I see the way that the dad and daughter interact.
I never had this closeness with my own dad. He was always too busy on Mayoral duties with intimidating bodyguards and staff around him.
He could barely look at Thomas and me because he blamed us for our mom’s death.
Did he ever hug us?
I don’t think so.
Yet it’s obvious how much Lark loves his daughter.
Fletcher told me that there was something special about the way that this Brok fought through his own broken bond to protect his child and now, I see it.
Lark would do anything for her.
He already has done.
Yet he’s also shown me the same protection.
I’ve never met an Omega like him. He’s everything that I found myself wanting to become, when I stood in that bedroom, defying my Alpha.
Simply seeing the love that’s possible in a pack and a family makes joy swell through me.
Lark picks up a steel plate with a single slice of bread on it.
Is that all he has for his meal?
No wonder he’s looking so thin and pale.
My eyes are feeling heavy again, but I struggle not to fall asleep because I want to see.
I want to hold onto this single dad and his daughter for just a little longer and at least pretend that they’re mine.
Because in my heart, they are.
To my surprise, instead of stuffing the bread into his mouth, even though I can see how his hand is shaking with hunger, Lark takes a single bite, before he pats his stomach like he’s full.
“Can you help me by finishing this bread, honey?” He asks.
Millie narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“Always with the why questions.” Lark rolls his eyes. “You know that I’m never hungry in the morning.”
The sudden rumbling of his stomach, which is loud in the silence of the cell, shows how much of a lie that is.
Lark looks caught out, before he tightens his arm around his daughter and whispers, “It’s the belly monster and he’s coming to eat the bread in three, two…”
Millie screeches with laughter and snatches the bread off the plate. She crams the entire slice into her mouth, until her cheeks puff up like a hamster’s.
I fall asleep, lulled by Lark’s rich laughter.
When I awake again, a couple of hours later, I feel refreshed. My headache is now only a dull throb behind my eyes.
My skin feels sticky, I’m desperate for a bath, and my own stomach feels hollowed out with hunger.
But I feel better than I have since…
I can’t think of that night.
Not yet.
Maybe, never.
But when I wake up, I’m thinking of citrus plum cake, waterfalls of black hair, and piercing jade eyes.
“Remember, you must do everything that I do,” Lark’s surprisingly serious voice says. “You know the rules of Follow Your Omega.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I crack open my eyes and watch as Lark falls to his hands and knees and does a surprisingly good papa bear impression, complete with snarling.
Behind him, Millie with a self-importantly earnest expression, drops to her knees and follows behind like she’s baby bear, copying his every move, as Lark prowls around the cell.
I have to give Lark kudos for inventiveness. I have no idea how he’s kept a three year old entertained all this time inside.
I can’t stop myself.
I laugh.
Lark freezes. Embarrassed, he coughs.
Behind him, Millie copies him, coughing too.
Lark gives a lazy smile, before glancing back at Millie. “We’ll have to finish this game later. You can be the leader next time. How about you go and think up how you’d like to lead?”
Millie’s eyes light up, before she scrambles back to her blanket against the far wall. “Puck monster story too?”
Lark winces, and an expression that I don’t understand flashes across his face. “Again? Okay, for the one millionth and one time, I’ll tell you the story of the Omega hockey mascot who escaped and got her happily ever after.”
There’s a happiness there but also, a great sadness too.
“Us escape?” Millie asks.
Lark’s expression crumples for a moment, before he forces on a fake smile. “Sure, we’ll escape. Just not yet.”
He casts me an impressive glare like he’s daring me to contradict him.
I don’t.
Thomas excitedly told me about the Omega Reject, who’d been trained in the Institute but ended up defying society to become an ice hockey mascot and then bond with the elite Blades NHL pack.
It’s been an inspiration to Omegas everywhere.
Fletcher and Dad, on the other hand, were furious about it.
Yet Lark was thrown out of that pack somehow, and he definitely hasn’t got his happily ever after.
I dreamed of fairy tales once too, but they’re just the stories that we tell kids.
Or tell ourselves as kids.
It’s more important to live in the real world and write stories that change it.
Lark pulls himself to stand, and my skin tingles at the awareness of how tall he is.
He attempts to smooth out his shirt and waistcoat like that can somehow make them clean.
Lark strolls across the cell, as if he’s entertaining in a mansion (and I haven’t just caught him playacting a bear). “Back with us properly then, cupcake?”
I grimace.
“Why are you calling me cupcake?” My voice is raspy from misuse.
“Well, I don’t know your real name, and I decided not to go with Millie’s choice of Glitter Wiggle Doggy.”
“Ehm, what?”
Lark’s eyes are twinkling with amusement. “It’s…was…her favorite toy. You should be honored. But then, you smell so delicious, all sweet, rich, and—”
“Don’t say moist.”
This startles a laugh from Lark. I love that I’ve made him sound like that.
“I wouldn’t dare. But your scent is like Devil’s chocolate cake. I should warn you that it’s my favorite, and Millie’s debated the benefits of eating you for the last week. I’m afraid that I have found her licking you. It’s your fault for being so lickable…”
We both blush at the same time, as he appears to realize what he’s said.
His ears turn red at their tips.
“Why Daddy red?” Millie helpfully (really not helpfully) points out.
Lark turns a deeper shade of scarlet. “I’m not.”
“Bad to lie.” Millie wags her finger at him. “Daddy likes pretty lady. My new mommy.”
Lark and I stare at each other, frozen.
He likes me?
His daughter wants me as her new…?
But what happened to her Alpha mom?
Ex-mom now, I guess.
Why the hell did that asshole reject her own daughter?
Finally, Lark shrugs. “Kids.”
“Kids,” I agree, even though I have literally no experience of them. This is where a conversation change is good, right? “I’ve been here weeks…?”
Lark’s expression softens, before he drops to fold his long limbs and sit next to me. “How about this? Hello, my name is Lark.”
He holds out his hand to me, and I take it. “Mercy.”
Lark’s eyes light up. “Mercy, it’s wonderful to finally be able to say your name. Would you like me to help you to sit up?”
I nod.
When Lark gently slips his arm around my shoulders, I can feel that despite being kept here and giving most of his food to his daughter (and I suspect me), he still has a wiry strength.
He pulls me up and helps me to settle my back against the wall.
We study each other for a long moment, before I realize that his jacket is still laid over my lap.
“Do you want this back?” I reluctantly offer.
Lark’s expression becomes shuttered. “Don’t you want it?”
I clutch onto the jacket tighter. “You’re shivering.”
“And you’re only just coming out of… You almost died. Yes, it’s been weeks, and what happened to you was more severe than what I suffered. You need it more than I do.”
Lark carefully eases the jacket from my hold and then helps me to slip it on over my nightie.
I sniff at the collar, before I can stop myself.
“Thank you.” I mean for more than the jacket.
For everything….for saving my life.
I can tell that he knows that.
Lark’s plush lips quirk. “It’s okay. I found that I had some time on my hands anyway. I may as well save the beautiful Omega who needed me.”
Flustered, I look down.
He says it so easily.
I sense that he’s unused to getting thanks or praise, which means that he shrugs it off.
But I won’t let him.
I reach for his cold hand, rubbing it to give it warmth, and he startles. “Thank you. It was your touch and scent that pulled me back from the edge of death, again and again. You didn’t need to do everything that you have for me. We both know that not everybody would have.”
“I wish that I could…” Lark glances over his shoulder at Millie, who appears to be lost in a clapping game. “…Insert bad word to everybody in your life who has made you feel unworthy of saving. I can’t change where we are or what others are going to do to us. But I swear, Mercy, I will do everything that I can to make you happy, when it’s just…our broken pack.”
“Broken pack?” I whisper.
He leans closer. “It’s all that I can offer. I’m rebellious, probably feral, and definitely broken. But I’ve spent a decade being made to feel like less than a man by my ex Alpha, when all I did was follow her orders and my duty. I’m a free Omega now, though, and I am a man.” His jaw clenches. “And even if I’m not worth anything to others, I can act like I am.”
“You are worth something.” I reach out my free hand, brushing Lark’s hair back from his face. “You’re worth everything to Millie and me.”
I didn’t mean to say that, but the words slipped out.
Lark blinks in confusion.
To cover the twisting emotions in my stomach, I blurt the first thing that comes into my head. “I’m sleeping in your bed.”
Fuck.
I’ve never courted anyone.
I didn’t think that I’d ever meet a scent match.
I was forced into a bond. I didn’t get the chance to choose my pack.
I suck at romance.
But it’s true.
There’s only one mattress in this cell. I wasn’t even meant to be in here, and clearly, was thrown in unexpectedly.
Fletcher, the fucking knothead, didn’t bother to add an extra mattress or blanket.
Lark’s dancing gaze meets mine. “I know. It’s terribly forward of you.” My blush deepens, especially when he adds, dryly, “Oh no, don’t tell me that you love those Omega romcoms with the turning up at the hotel and there’s only one bedroom booked scenes, are you? That Omega actor, Jex, is famous for those.”
“And hot,” I can’t help adding.
Lark leans forward and whispers into my ear so that Millie can’t hear, “Did you see his cowboy one? With the spanking scene?”
My skin feels like it’s on fire again. Lark’s hot breath against my ear makes me shiver.
“Wait, are you telling me that you did?”
Lark pulls back, opening his mouth and then snapping it shut. “I’m pleading the fifth.”
“So, you like movies?” I venture.
I want to know about him. I don’t know how this can feel like a date, when we’re stuck in this dank cell and I already have a connection with him that’s Soul deep.
But it does.
“I had movie nights with my brother-in-law, another Omega in my old pack called Cygnus,” Lark replies. “He has health difficulties and spent a lot of his time trapped in his room. Along with his books, it was his only freedom: A window out into the world.”
I beckon Lark closer.
His hair is silky against my cheeks, as this time I whisper into his ear, “And he liked to see hot Omegas and spanking?”
Now, it’s Lark’s turn to shiver. “That may have been me.”
We both chuckle at the same time.
All of a sudden, there’s a loud sound of footsteps in the hallway.
Lark’s breathing becomes fast and panicked. “Lie back down, close your eyes, and pretend to be unconscious.”
Adrenaline surges through me. “What?”
I don’t want to leave Lark alone with this.
I can hardly sit up by myself but surely, I can be moral support.
The drive for me to protect Lark and Millie is just as strong as his is to protect me.
I don’t think that he understands that.
The look must show on my face because Lark’s expression becomes stern.
He grabs me by the shoulders and maneuvers me to lie down.
“Lark,” I hiss, “I care what happens to you. I won’t let anyone—
“Close your eyes and keep them shut,” Lark commands. His hands are shaking. “Not another word. I’ve kept you protected so long because they think that you’re still ill. Keep it that way. Please.”
It’s the way that he begs please that does it.
I close my eyes, willing myself to stop trembling.
I hear Lark’s footsteps, as he crosses the small cell.
“Honey,” his voice is tight, “quiet now.”
There’s a clang, which must be the cell door banging open.
“Step away from your daughter,” a cold, sneering female voice orders.
The scent is faint like sharp lemons: A Beta.
“Why?” Lark demands. “Are you here to take me to the Discipline Rooms again?”
“Do it,” the guard snaps. “Or I’ll use the Discipline Strap. Perhaps, you’d prefer that I try it on the kid this time?”
“Don’t you dare,” Lark growls. I’ve never heard an Omega talk with that tone to a Beta before. “Millie, I’m putting you down now. Don’t look like that. Let go of my sleeve. Daddy’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”
“No,” Millie wails. “Mean woman. Hurt Daddy. Make owie.”
“Daddy won’t be hurt,” Lark replies.
Another lie.
My eyes fill with tears, and I will myself not to let them fall.
Yet it’s so fucking hard not to give myself away, when all I want is to leap up and protect Lark like he has me.
Yet my body is too weak to even pull myself to sit up.
Yet.
But I’ll find a way.
I failed once in my mission to shut down this Institute but I can’t let myself believe that I’ve failed for good, not now that I’m experiencing it myself.
What’s going on here isn’t reported on the news or social media.
It fucking needs to be.
“That’s it, step to the far side of the cell,” the woman says.
Then to my shock, there’s a sudden furious, growling.
Lark is feral.
Then I make out the words that he’s howling between his growls and struggling and I understand why.
“Don’t take my daughter. Stop!” Lark screams. “Millie! Bring her back. Do anything to me but don’t… I’ll tear out your fucking throats, if you touch one hair on her head. Why have you taken my daughter?”