Chapter 18 Zack
Chapter eighteen
Zack
The blond alpha lashes out with his fist. I slide away, pivot, and release a big kick to his stomach. He drops with a scream. I’d laugh if I had time, but more fists fly out like points on a hairbrush, all reaching for me.
I block, punch, and kick, backing up to keep them from fully surrounding me.
A skinny alpha dives for my knees, but I catch him in the face with a heavy hand.
Blood sprays across my fingers. A dizzying soup of scents lashes at me, alpha hostility mixed with sweat and blood.
Not much different from the ring, only quieter.
These men don’t scream and howl, and no audience cheers for our win.
My muscles heat as I move, aches growing from the attacks landing on my hardened body. I grunt as a punch strikes near my ribs, sparking a new rush of pain.
The blond rises, snarling, and launches in, fists raised. I duck and spin, catching him around the throat. He gurgles as I lock in my hold. A little twist and he’ll stop moving altogether.
Don’t kill anyone.
Fuck. How do I stop them if I can’t kill anyone? Worse, my deal with Cal-ee said to not even attack, so if I fight now, will he stop helping me? I roar at the ceiling, voicing my frustration.
A punch lands square on my jaw, sending white spots fluttering through my vision.
I drop the alpha and stagger back, reeling from the dilemma more than the punch.
The alpha follows his attack with a combo, which I barely fend off.
Not that I can’t, but I don’t know how without releasing the instinct to stop their breathing.
If I kill, I might not see Mine and White Mine again. A strangled whine slips through my lips.
“He’s backing down. Make him bleed, boys.” The harsh command comes from the alpha at the end of the hall. I growl in fury, but he turns and walks away as if we’re beneath his attention.
The blond alpha leans on the wall, gasping, but the others come at me with a flurry of blows.
Blood spatters on my shirt. I fend them off with quick, flat hands, the war in my thoughts more difficult than the attacks.
The last time I hit anyone, I got sent to the darkroom.
If I go back there, it might eat my mind entirely.
And I can’t see my ohm-ga or Cal-ee in that black place.
So what options do I have?
An alpha lands his punch in my stomach, and I double over, spewing water and bile across the floor.
I wipe my mouth with my arm and more blood smears my skin.
I eye the alphas, muttering under my breath to remind myself, “Don’t kill.
Don’t kill.” The desire rises, hot and consuming.
If I give in, I’ll tear these men limb from limb.
They fight with predictable moves, like a play or acting.
Not like a man with his life on the line.
Not like a fighting hound.
I laugh. Heavy-handed as these men are, they wouldn’t last half a minute against the alphas I grew up with, like the Death alpha and the Superior One.
“Think you can laugh at us, fucker?” the skinny one hisses, holding one bleeding hand tight to his chest. I might’ve broken it when I wasn’t careful.
All at once, the bond lodged in my heart floods with two lines of concern, and I close my eyes to soak it in. My ohm-ga and Ri-ckon acknowledge my distress with their own cry of alarm, a silent check-in asking what’s wrong. I can’t answer them in words, but I can calm my heart.
I’m okay.
A force connects with the side of my head, knocking me off my feet. I sprawl across the floor, a smile on my lips. I will do whatever it takes to see my ohm-ga again. She’s waiting for me. She hasn’t forgotten me.
Agony lances into me as the alphas kick me.
I skid on my side over the slick floors, blood bitter in my mouth and hot on my skin.
I cover my head with my arms and curl up, focusing only on the faint but sweet connection to my pack.
Something cracks in my side, but I ignore it.
The darkness was worse. The loneliness without a pack was unbearable. I’m not a fighting dog anymore.
Don’t kill. Don’t kill.
Dizziness swamps me, mixing with the circling thoughts behind my eyes. Maybe I vomit again, or maybe I imagine it. A fire springs up all around me, weakening my limbs, but I cling to my promise. This time I will obey no matter the cost.
“Zack?” Al’s voice spears through the gluggy mess. “Hey! Get off him, you motherfuckers!”
He sounds furious. I shiver at the icy alpha command in his roar, and the shadows around me flicker. The kicking stops. Everything stops.
“Fuck, Zack! Stay with me.”
I blink up into his familiar face, but it swims eerily. “Stand still,” I mutter.
“I am,” Al shoots back, voice tight. “It’s you who can’t fucking see straight, idiot. Damn, I thought I was too late.” He rolls me onto my back, sparking a burning fire in my side.
I shout and hook my arm across the agonizing area. I can’t tell exactly what hurts, but I hope I haven’t broken my arm again, because that hard cast thing itched something terrible. The memory makes me snarl.
“Easy, Zack. I’m here to help. I’ll get the med team, so don’t move.”
The roof splits and merges back together, then grows taller before shrinking. I can hardly breathe through my swollen nose, and my lips split and bleed. But I can still smell that one alpha, and the missing connection’s pissing me off.
Do I know him? The other alphas obeyed when he ordered them to attack me. He doesn’t strike me as the sort of alpha with enough dominance for others to listen to. Not a pack alpha. So is this one of those mysteries I haven’t learned about yet? Perhaps he has magic powers, like Ri-ckon.
Last I saw him, he sat at the front of the prison-deciding room, opposite Cal-ee.
Does that mean Cal-ee put him here?
The slippery ceiling makes my stomach churn, so I close my eyes. That man must have a name.
Ray. The word filters in through the pain flaring in my side with every breath. His name is Ray and my ohm-ga trembled every time she looked his way.
Why didn’t I put the pieces together? He was in Cal-ee’s court because he did something wrong, broke the law, and the person he hurt was Red.
I growl in fury. He doesn’t know me, but he knows Mine. And now he wants to get to her. I roll to my knees and push up, yelping as pain seizes me, freezing my movements as effectively as the biting fence.
“Calm down, big guy,” Al cries, tearing around the corner, followed by guards. “You just won’t listen to instructions, will ya? Idiot.”
I snarl, turning my head partially to see his approaching shoes. “Didn’t kill.”
He scoffs. “They fucking almost killed you! You’re lucky I got here when I did, or you’d be mincemeat.”
The guards lock me back into handcuffs, and a moment later two more men arrive with a stretcher.
“I’m fucking going with him,” Al tells a guard. “For one, I can understand him, and for two, I need stitches as well. Look.”
I force one swollen eye open.
Al leans closer to the guard and jabs two fingers at a gash in his eyebrow that leaks blood down his face. I guess those challengers put up a fight when he shooed them off. But he must be strong to deal with over five alphas so quickly.
Al catches me watching and glares at me. “And why the fuck didn’t you protect yourself, huh?”
I slump back, his words fading in an odd, hollow kind of way. “No more black room.”
“You fucking dumbass.” He groans, the sound mixing with footsteps. Pressure pounds in my ears, followed by a swishing noise, and then silence. Darkness swallows me whole.
I wake with a jerk, battle fury flooding me in an instant.
When I roll away, expecting another attack, a handcuff yanks me back.
It rattles as I tug on my right hand, now linked to the side of a bed.
Repeated beeps mutter near my ear, and a white snake disappears into my inner elbow. I stare at it in confusion.
“You awake?”
I flop my head over on the pillow and discover Al sitting up on another bed beside me, also handcuffed. A black bruise spreads around his eye.
He grins. “Two broken ribs, broken nose, and a sprained wrist. Three handfuls of bruises and a split lip. You came out better than I thought.”
I sniff, my nose still mostly blocked by swelling. “Where?” I mutter, my lips stinging as I form the word.
“In the hospital. A place for sick people. You’ll stay here for a few weeks until you heal.” He slides the round part of the cuff along the bed rail until he’s more comfortable and leans forward, elbows on his crossed legs. “Do you know who ordered the hit?”
I stare at him, clueless about what he’s saying.
Al rolls his eyes. “The fight, the challenge. Why?” He groans and drops his head. “Fuck, now I’m talking like a moron too.”
I test the handcuffs once more. I could break it if danger appears, but for now I seem safe enough. “Ray. Alpha in white shirt. Tell them.”
Al stares at me. “Fuck me sideways. He’s Ray Fibba-whatsit?” He groans and collapses back onto his bed. “Counselor Wren, you owe me big time. As if I wasn’t in enough shit already.”
He seems upset, but I ignore his fussing. Instead, I lift my arm and point to the tube sticking out of my arm. “What this?”
“It’s feeding you. Leave it alone.” Al clicks his tongue, his alpha scent spreading. “You aren’t even aware of the level of fucked up you’re on, are you? Oblivious fool.” He blows out a noisy breath.
I wriggle on the bed, but it’s impossible to get comfortable with the sharp stabbing pain in my side. I lift the blankets but find nothing out of place except for some bandages on my face and arms. None of the hard ones, thankfully. But it is hard to breathe through the swelling in my nose.
“Where Cal-ee?” I grumble.
Al scoffs. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon. When an inmate gets injured this bad, they have to notify your contacts.” He swears under his breath, hands clenched, then laughs bitterly. “Since we have nothing else to do, how about learning some new words so you can tell Cal-ee you trust me?”
“What trust?”
The alpha ignores my question as he rolls up on one elbow. “Fuck me. If you threw him out of a pack, I bet he doesn’t even want you free. How am I supposed to make a deal now?” He’s really getting worked up now, his tone growing harsher with every word.
“I keep deal,” I tell him.
“Not our deal, stupid. I mean my deal with Callisto.”
I stare at him. “What deal?”
He sneers at me. “You wouldn’t understand, but it’s to keep both of us alive.” He growls under his breath and drops back onto his pillows. “The way things are going, you and I are both gonna wind up dead. It’s just a matter of time.”
I hiss in his direction, hands clenching on the bedcover. “No dead.”
Al laughs drily. “And how do you plan to stop it when you won’t fight back?”
I grit my teeth and stare at the ceiling, which thankfully isn’t dancing anymore. Pressure squeezes behind my eyes, forming an ache, and my wrist throbs. I just need to wait for Cal-ee. Then I’ll understand what has Al so upset.
It can’t be that bad, can it?