Chapter 13 Zack
Chapter thirteen
Zack
I thump my fist against the chilly wall experimentally, but it doesn’t give way at all.
“Settle down, will ya?” Al snarls from the bunk below me. “All that fidgeting is giving me the creeps.”
I punch the gray bricks once more to prove I don’t take orders from him, and he hisses in annoyance.
An unfamiliar tension fizzes in my gut, like the drink from the tall glass bottle White Mine got the night of the big party.
But different because this fizz is unpleasant. Makes me itchy inside. Restless.
Worst of all, I think it belongs to my ohm-ga, so I can’t do anything about it. Can’t reach her, can’t ask, can’t fight it off. Once more I’m trapped by four small walls. I growl under my breath.
“You’ll get a chance to work your jitters out soon,” Al says grumpily. “Almost yard time.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, just because I feel like it.
He snorts.
I wasn’t sure if Al would keep our deal, but I’ve been here for several days and he hasn’t tried to strangle me in my sleep. Hasn’t stopped me staying awake half the nights to be sure.
The bed frame wobbles as he rolls off his mattress and starts weird movements while sitting on the floor, leaning his upper body over his outstretched leg.
He catches me watching. “So, you didn’t tell me your ‘Cal-ee’ was Laversham’s most famous corporate lawyer, Callisto Wren.
How’d you wind up knowing a hotshot like him? ”
“Cal-ee Wren,” I mutter, pitching onto my side to watch his antics. “Live house.”
He freezes, foot upright, hands clasped around his toes. “Dude, you live in the same fucking house as him?”
I shake my head and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “No. Chased Cal-ee out.”
Al tips his head back and laughs. “Fuck me. You chased him out of the house? Man, I want to hear this story from someone who makes sense.” His nose wrinkles.
“But the silver spoon hasn’t contacted me yet, so we might run out of time.
” He growls under his breath, and then flattens his body over his leg some more.
When I lean over to see better, Al waves at me. “You should come down and stretch too. No telling what can happen out in the yard.”
I cock my head, studying him. “What happen?”
He shrugs and switches legs. “Fights. Hmm, how would you say it? Challenges? Threats.” When I growl in response, he holds up one finger.
“Sometimes, not always. Just gotta be ready.” His hands flap in my direction again and I reluctantly climb down the ladder, but only because I’ve seen Mine do some similar moves before getting on the big four-legged animals.
Al watches me from the corner of his eye as I copy my pack mate’s stretches, but he seems satisfied that I’m moving.
To be fair, he knows a lot of things. From him I’ve learned about the kitchen, laundry, and even a small library inside the prison. Not that the words on paper mean anything to me. Since he understands so much, maybe he knows about this prickle in my chest.
I straighten. “What this?” I lift my shirt and poke in the center of my body, where the lines of my breast meet with the ones over my ribs.
“A six-pack?” He doesn’t sound sure.
I expel a frustrated breath. “Inside.” I rub my too-tight skin. “Feel White Mine.” Guess I should use his ‘outside’ name. “Ri-ckon. And feel ohm-ga.”
Al’s brows rise in a high arc. “An omega?” He whistles. “How did a na?ve fucker like you bond an omega?” He rolls to his knees as his eyes widen. “Shit, is that why you’re in here?”
I bristle at his tone. “Red mine.”
He chokes on a laugh and lifts his hands in the no-fight gesture. “Geez, all right, cool your temper. But did you bite her?”
“Bit Mine and White Mine,” I declare proudly. No one else can have them because I claimed them. Then my excitement fades and I press my hand to my chest again. “But feel hot, uneasy. Thirsty, here.”
“Ah.” He brightens. “That’s called a bond. It shares emotions.”
I frown.
Al shrugs and mutters under his breath. “How the fuck did I end up as a kindergarten teacher?” He rubs one hand over his glossy head. “Um, so happy, sad, angry. Those things get felt through a bond. It means you can sense what your omega feels.”
“Bond,” I repeat. I say it once more, deciding I like the way it sounds. I stretch my arms up, slowly making an arc like the path of the sun.
“Yeah, so that’s what you’re feeling,” Al says, scratching at his beard. “But a bond also means like a rope or chains.”
I stiffen. “Leash?”
The man shakes his head slowly. “I don’t even wanna fucking know how you learned that word, but yeah, like a leash. I guess.”
A buzzer sounds through the small box up on the roof, the noise that indicates a change in activities.
“Yard time.” Al gets off the floor with a grunt and hits the air a few times with his fists. “Watch your back out there, Zack.” His voice drops to a mumble as he adds, “And I wouldn’t mind if you watched mine while you’re at it.”
I turn the new information over behind my eyes as I follow him out of our small room.
This feeling in my chest means I have a leash that holds me to Red and Ri-ckon.
A grin spreads across my face, and I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s a challenge.
A leash is for keeping close and keeping safe, which means I’m still joined to my ohm-ga, even though I can’t see her.
Patting one hand over my chest, I stride out into the sunlight.
A patch of grass on one side and concrete on the other forms the yard. The building shields it on two sides and the other two have tall wire fences. My steps slow as I realize this is the same sort of setup I climbed back at the other prison.
A lump forms in my throat. The alphas back then weren’t challengers, which is why most of them ignored me. They simply had yard time. I growl under my breath at my foolishness. No wonder Mine and the ultra-magical White Mine put me on a leash away from home.
“Keep up, Zack,” Al says, wariness in his tone.
I grab the back of his shirt. “That fence bite? Climb?” I ask, pointing to the tall structures running beside us.
He snorts. “No, they aren’t electrified, but if you try to climb them, you’ll get tranqed from the guard towers.” Al pushes me toward the fence, and I tolerate his touch only because he’s teaching me something. “See up there?”
On the roofline, two structures jut up into the blue sky, like small versions of the apartment building.
“Guards are up there, so no climbing or they’ll shoot you.” He wags one finger in warning.
I lift my lip in disgust at the idea of guards, and as I do, I catch movement in the high, round building. People keep watch up there. I turn my attention back to the yard, where other alphas roam and sit. My skin prickles to match my insides as their gazes turn my way.
One man, taller than both me and Al, with a black triangle printed on the skin under his eye swaggers up, one hand in his pocket. “So, the feral didn’t snuff you out, Alhedy?” He clicks his tongue. “Pity.”
I swivel, giving him my full attention. The clear malice in his tone sets my teeth pressing together. Is he challenging Al?
Al grins, equally threatening as he postures up. “Can’t make it easy for you, can I, Brody?”
The man smiles, but he doesn’t seem happy. “No, that wouldn’t be any fun. But mark my words, your time is coming.” The tall alpha looks me up and down. “Maybe this mutt has been neutered.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Al says, tone dark. “He and I reached an understanding.” He doesn’t exactly step between us, but he angles his body. As if I need an alpha like him to protect me.
I shove him aside with a snarl and step into the other alpha’s space. “Challenge?” I snap.
You can tell a lot about an alpha from their scent. Even more from the way they respond to another alpha getting in their space. This one’s mean but has a coward’s spine. I know, because his eyes light up with hatred, and he leans forward, but his scent turns bitter with caution, not strength.
Al touches my sleeve. “Easy, Zack.”
I’d back down, except for the discomfort growing in my belly, fanning into anger. My ohm-ga isn’t happy, which means I’m not happy.
“Want my teeth?” I ask, stepping close enough to bump into the stranger’s chest. “I show. On your throat.”
The challenger reaches out to push me, but he’s slow. I circle my arms around the outside of his and slap down, forcing his arms away. He’s got nothing on the alphas I used to fight.
But with that thought comes a faint warning voice: Cal-ee, asking me not to kill. I rumble unhappily, torn between my alpha instincts and the desire to go home.
“Stand down, lads,” a guard alpha calls, walking a few steps closer.
The stranger smiles and steps back, lifting his hands. “We’re all good here,” he says, corners of his mouth sucking in. Even though he backs down, he seems pleased about something. “For now,” he mutters, before walking away.
I hiss at his back as he goes.
“Scum of the earth,” Al says, making a wet sound in his throat before spitting on the ground. He glances at me and kicks his shoe into the grass. “That man’s like dirt, or poo.”
I nod. I can see the resemblance.
Al leads me over to the concrete area, where a set of lines mark the ground. He whistles at some men holding a ball, and one throws it to him so hard Al huffs for breath as he catches it.
“People are ever so pleasant around here,” he mutters.
I scan the group. They regard me with some interest, but their gazes quickly swivel back to Al, full of venom.
“You. Alphas don’t like you,” I tell him.
He snorts. “Got that right. They all love me so, so much. Guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”
“But they not challenge?”
He scoffs. “They’re trying, but not where the guards can see them.” He points to the alphas patrolling the area.
I turn and scan the closest threats.
My cellmate snaps his fingers to draw my attention back and holds up the ball. “This is a basketball. You bounce it on the ground, then throw it through the hoop up there.” Al demonstrates, the ball making a dull thunk every time it hits the ground. “Your turn.”
He throws me the ball, and my hands wrap around it automatically like it’s a thick neck.
“Not bad. Now can you dribble it?”
I look from him to the ball. Dribble? Like what he did earlier on the grass? I moisten my mouth and let the liquid fall onto the ball.
“Ah, fuck no, Zack. You idiot!” Al shouts, snatching the ball. He wipes it on my shirt and then does the bouncing thing again. “This is dribbling. Bounce it.”
Turns out Al is a very stupid man, because that’s not what dribbling means, but I let it slide.
As he shows me how to throw the ball up toward the hoop, a strange flutter lands in my chest. I freeze in place and look around.
The movement grows, coming louder even though my ears hear nothing.
My chest hitches as the bond rattles inside me, seething with anger.
“Ohm!” I shout, dropping the ball and spinning.
A second flood barrels into me, stealing my breath as White Mine’s distress joins hers, followed by a fanned heat, as if I sat directly in front of the car heater on full blast.
Al picks up the ball and turns back. “What’s wrong now, you freaking toddler?” he mutters.
I hold my shirt away from my body, searching for air. The hot sensation creeps up my throat, squeezing me from the inside out. I stagger and gasp.
“Hot.” Even as the words spill through my snarling lips, I know I’m not the one overheating. “Ohm is burning. In here.” I slap at my chest, and tear the shirt down the middle, trying to release the painful sensation.
“Oh, great.” Al throws one hand up in the air. “Just fucking great. Your omega is probably in heat, pal.”
I grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard.
“Where? Where is ohm-ga?” Terror explodes in my chest and I stumble as I reel away, the sunlight in the yard flickering ominously.
Did someone hurt Red? She’s so afraid I can’t breathe from the strength of what clutches her. I must get to her right now.
Chain fencing cuts my blind run short and I bounce, shouting with rage. Someone laughs at me, and I turn on them, my hands digging into flesh. It’s not enough so I drag my fist back and swing, screaming for my ohm. If it weren’t for this prison, I’d be with her.
I collide with the table some alphas were sitting around.
Grunting with effort, I lift the whole thing and hurl it at my closest foe. Shouts echo in my ears dimly as the desperate need to see Mine steals every other thought.
And then the force pouring into me shifts, the alarm suddenly mingled with desire, like when I take my pack to bed after I ask.
I stagger, slamming into someone’s shoulder.
I only have a second to register the change because something small and hard pummels my back, raising such an intense pain I scream.
When I whip around, a second tiny object hits my chest. It stings like a piece of me has ripped free of my skin.
A projectile cuts through the air and I sidestep it, following the path up to the roof.
Guards on the towers point long sticks my way, and another projectile speeds through the air.
I’m not quick enough this time and it strikes my thigh, my leg immediately giving way under a burst of agony.
Guards swarm, forcing me onto my face in the grass while pinning my hands. I thrash and roar, but I can’t fight off a group of them, not when they have weapons in their hands. I turn my head, foam coating my lips as I writhe helplessly.
The alphas who aren’t sprawled moaning in the dirt all line up against the wall with their hands on the brick. Al glances over, fear burning in his gaze.
A solid boot connects with my ribs, forcing a sharp gust of air through my throat. “Get him into solitary,” a guard snaps.
Whatever is happening to my ohm-ga, I can’t do a thing about it as they drag me through the door into darkness.