Chapter 17 Zack
Chapter seventeen
Zack
This place eats at me. I’m used to cells, even dark ones, but I’ve never been entirely on my own. No windows, no lights, not even a bed. Only a square box of concrete walls and a roof I knock my head on if I stand upright. As I lie on the cold floor, it seems like everyone has forgotten me.
Even when the guards come by, I don’t see their faces. A slot in the wall opens and a meal tray slides through—not as often as my grumbly belly would like. Sometimes a white roll of the stuff to wipe my ass with slides through the window too.
Before, when I didn’t understand words or use tools, I might’ve been okay, but now I know better. I’m not a dog, not anymore.
Only the faint flicker in my chest keeps me from descending back into that animal state.
After that heavy flare of Ohm-ga’s fear, her presence goes still, like when she sleeps.
But White Mine keeps me company, his concern welling up in my chest but never exploding out of control.
Even if he’s not happy, he’s safe, and that means Red must be as well because no one loves her as much as Ri-ckon.
But the bond can’t keep me warm.
I run my hand over my head. With all my hair gone, nothing traps heat over the skin here. And my clothes can’t seem to chase away the chill everywhere else. The only thing that comes to mind is copying Al’s body-pushing movements.
My life rhythm changes inside the box. Instead of sunlight and darkness, or Ri-ckon herding us along so we aren’t late, I only have my body cycles to tell me when to sleep and the grating meal tray to tell me when to eat.
So I fill the space by pressing myself off the floor with my hands until my arms shake and the pounding in my chest gets too loud.
Then I rest and repeat. Gradually, the too-thin sensation in my broken arm fades.
After a series of meal trays and follow-up poops in the toilet that crowds my space, the flesh under my skin hardens.
Reminds me of days in the original pack .
. . fight ring, someone called it. The chute would open frequently on non-fight days, sending us into a cavern with cages around deep water, a running belt, and objects to punch.
Things that forced me to move until my breath tore sharply in my throat.
As time blurs, I run on the spot, practice standing and sitting without a chair, and punch the air like Al does.
And I recite every word I know out loud.
Once I was content drifting through life, not understanding the warbled sounds people made, but not anymore.
This world is full of things I need to figure out if I’m going to return to my pack and then stay with them.
Assuming some powerful magic hasn’t consumed me and drowned me in this darkness.
Cal-ee told me I had to wait before he could get me out of prison. If he’s lying to get my ohm-ga, I’ll tear his limbs off.
If I escape.
I don’t like the way these ideas pile up behind my eyes without rest. It’s the darkness and silence, nibbling at me piece by piece. The coldness settles into me again, as if I’d already gone to that place where alphas go when they stop breathing.
One, two. I push up from the floor, feeling an answering pressure tugging my chest, stomach, and upper arms. Three, four, five.
That’s as many numbers as I learned, so I repeat them over and over, no longer sure I have the correct order.
And with every repetition, the darkness sinks a little deeper, asking if all the promises my pack made about love and kisses forever were tricks of my mind.
Maybe they abandoned me because I broke the rules.
My arms give out, and I collapse onto the hard floor, the chill stinging my heated skin. My heavy breaths gusts around me, the only sound in existence. Then I pick up the faint pad of boots in the outside corridor.
The door bolt scrapes, and I twitch, shivering with nerves like I’m on high alert for a challenge. For a second I brace myself, ready to fight.
A guard, framed by bright light, stands in the open doorway and eyes me up and down. “Your time’s done, Jones. Get up.”
I roll to my feet, observing him intently. “Go now?”
“Yes, back to your cell.” He holds out handcuffs, and I offer my wrists reluctantly.
I grumble in warning when he grabs my elbow, and the alpha glares at me. “Want to stay here longer?”
I shake my head and curl my lip. “No. Too dark.”
He scoffs. “That’s the point. It’s a punishment for attacking people. Don’t go crazy again.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it was because of my ohm-ga, but I clench my teeth around the words. He doesn’t care, and no matter what, I don’t want to stay in this tiny, gnawing room.
“Go,” I say, ignoring the way my skin itches under his fingers. The only touch I like is from my pack. “See Al.”
The man scoffs. “Yeah, your good ol’ cellmate, Alhedy.”
We walk down a corridor and through a pair of thick doors that slide open and shut on their own. The scent of alphas wraps around me, and I lift my nose, filtering through the semi-familiar ones. Who’d imagine I’d be grateful for alpha stench? It means I’m no longer alone.
The guard flings open the door to my cell, and Al looks up from his exercises on the floor. “Welcome back, Zack.”
I bare my teeth at him, ignoring the way my heart lifts. But then I catch something in the air. The guard removes my handcuffs, and I lunge forward, catching Al around the neck as he awkwardly rises. He snarls in warning, but I’m not trying to fight.
“Smell Cal-ee,” I mutter, diving my nose down until I find his hands.
“Have fun, you two,” the guard says with a nasty laugh, leaving me pinning the other alpha to the wall.
“Thanks a lot, pal,” Al calls after him, lifting his middle finger in an angry jerk. “And would you get the hell off me, mutt?”
“Zack,” I correct him, stepping back. “Not dog.”
“Yeah, fine. You’re Zack. Whatever. Seems like you’re getting smarter by the day.”
“Cal-ee came?” I ask, backing away.
He shoves me back, his alpha aggression pouring out in response to my threat, but I know he doesn’t mean it. “Yes. I still can’t believe your precious ‘Cal-ee’ was Callisto Wren, Laversham’s bulldog lawyer.”
“Cal-ee not dog.”
Al groans and rubs his forehead. “If only you knew how wrong you are.” He shakes his head, a half smile tilting his mouth. “First things first, how was solitary confinement?” When I don’t reply, he adds, “The dark cell.”
I growl and climb to the top bunk. “Bad. Cold. Dark. Eats my . . .” I tap the side of my head.
“That’s called your mind. And the buzzy ideas or voices are thoughts.” Al shifts to the far side of the room where he can see me. “And yeah, that’s why they use it exists, so people behave.”
“I behave. I not kill.”
He laughs, a guttural, snorting sound, which sounds better than it should to my ears. “Only a feral would think anything less than murder is good behavior.”
I lie down and wrap myself in the blanket, soaking in the presence of another human and enjoying the soft comfort of a pillow under my head. Then I catch another faint whiff of the alpha I threw out of Red’s pack.
“What Cal-ee say? They forgot me?”
“No, he said he’ll come see you as soon as your solitary is over.
So probably today or tomorrow. He wants to know if we really made a deal, and if you trust me.
” He eyes me for a moment and then takes a small round object out of his pocket and throws it at the wall, catching it as it bounces back.
“So, apart from living in the same house, how do you two know each other?”
How do I know Cal-ee? I hum under my breath. “He wanted my ohm-ga. I said no and threw him out.”
Al chokes. “No, you fucking didn’t!” Scrambling noises reach me, and then Al’s head pops up at the level of my bed.
“Are you serious right now? The Callisto Wren challenged you for your omega and you threw him out? Of his own house? Is that why you’re in prison?
” His face turns a weird color, and his mouth twitches.
I frown and grip my blanket tighter in case he intends to steal it. Thankfully he seems more interested in my words than the bedding.
But his question is hard to answer. Did Cal-ee challenge me?
“No,” I say slowly. “Cal-ee ask ohm-ga to join. Mine feel—” I tap my belly. “Love, but not right. So I say no.”
“Mine?”
“Ohm-ga. Red.”
Al rears back, shock blanking his face. “You made that call for your omega, and she accepted your decision?”
“Yes.” Of course I should make those decisions for Mine. It was too painful for her.
“Wow, you sneaky fucking bastard.” He slaps the foot of my bed. “I’ll be damned. A feral who’s a pack alpha. What the fuck is this world coming to?” He clicks his tongue. “Is your omega feral too?”
I bare my teeth at him and growl, a genuine challenge spilling out of me.
Al holds up one hand. “Sorry. No dissing the omega. I get it.” He backs down the ladder and drops to the floor.
“I can’t believe my ears. This might be the most entertaining story I’ve ever heard about a pack.
Please have your omega write a book about it one day.
” He chuckles like he knows some joke, but I don’t see anything funny about my pack.
“In any case, you gotta put in a good word for me when you see Callisto. We’re practically friends now, right? ”
“Friends?”
“Geez,” he says with a sigh. “Never mind. Just tell Cal-ee good things about me.” Under his breath, he adds, “Can’t believe my fate’s in the hands of an irrational man-child pack alpha.” The ball bounces more than five times, then stops. “Hey, Zack. You want to fetch the ball?”
I roll over, turning my back to him. I’ve seen dogs chasing fuzzy balls like the one he’s holding, so while I don’t know what fetch is, I know enough to be sure he’s mocking me.
“No? Pity.” Laughter squeezes his voice.