Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
OCEAN
I sat on the hard floor, taking deep breaths and trying to stay calm.
The blindfold was tight, digging painfully into my skin, and it was disorienting not being able to see.
I could feel the hard floor beneath me and how cold it was on my hands.
The air in here felt still and stale, and the scent of a hundred alphas’ sweat and blood curdled in my nose.
It was quieter now than it had been so far. My eyes felt heavy, and I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it must be late. The sounds of deep breathing had replaced the banging and growling that had peaked when I’d been dragged down here and thrown in this cell.
I had been keeping my ears open for any other hint of the woman who’d been crying, but there had been nothing since that one incident.
I was trying to focus on what I could control, and right now, that was pretty limited. So, I was trying to remain calm in my bond.
My pack was…unusual, to say the least. When Kaos had come back and collapsed on our doorstep all those years ago, half dead, he was far from the person we’d known growing up.
He’d always been wild, passionate and argumentative, pushing boundaries all the time. He and I didn’t have the best family lives, and we’d found ourselves taken in by Finch’s parents when we were six and seven.
They hadn’t questioned it when a small, serious Finch arrived home with us in tow and announced we were his pack now; they just made room at the table.
We’d been so integrated with his family, his mother had given us family names.
Mine was Haejoon, a deep ocean, because of my empathy and ability to remain calm amidst storms. Her little ocean with the blue eyes.
She’d given Kaos the name Jaehwan, a brilliant mind.
Brilliant, but often wild. It’s where our pack names had come from—Ocean and Kaos.
Finch’s birth name was Saehwan, enduring renewal, one who would be able to carry others through life’s challenges.
Though we'd often tease him, saying he was so serious and careful. He was like a little bird that checks every direction before pecking at a seed and rushing back to the bushes. Plus, he’d been tiny before he hit puberty.
So, we’d called him Finch, and it had stuck.
Still, it was kind of telling. Kaos was brilliant when he focused, and Finch was our rock and our planner, but me? I was the sea. Kind of there, kind of cool, but otherwise…yeah. I just tried to stay upbeat and help them with whatever they needed with a smile, hoping it was enough.
But maybe I’d enabled them too much, because now it was up to them to rely on each other, and I wasn’t sure how that would go.
I could feel the fissures that had opened in our bond when I’d been taken, and I was doing my best to patch them up from here.
I wasn’t sure how much sending the equivalent of a thumbs-up emoji to them via the bond was actually helping.
Still, this wouldn’t be for long.
They’d be coming for me. It was literally life-or-death for all of us; if I fell in a fight, Kaos would not survive when the pack bonds shattered. And Finch wouldn’t survive losing both of us.
They were both really angry, and I should probably be a bit more angry or ashamed. I’d lost control of myself with the need to defend and protect her.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
I kept thinking back to that moment when her eyes had held mine.
Her brows were raised, her mouth parted in shock, but the expression wasn’t hatred or derision; it was softness.
The whole night, she’d been so poised, her expression curated to respond to the needs of her guests.
And I’d broken that.
When she looked at me, I think I saw her.
Our Laurel.
Then her expression had shuttered, and everything had fallen apart.
She’d sent me down here, which didn’t make sense.
But there had to be a reason.
I just didn’t know it yet.
There was a clicking sound, then heavy footsteps coming into my cell. Some of the wild alpha noises that had quieted earlier returned, the snarling and growling echoing through the space.
I stiffened as the footsteps came close, but the faint beta scent of peach tea that reached me smelled more of nerves than anything else.
Fumbling hands reached behind me to take off my blindfold, and I blinked up at a young beta guard, who took a quick step back. He hurried out to grab something, and I took the chance to look around.
I’d been dragged down to a room with concrete floors and fluorescent lights.
Cells lined the walls, each one holding a different feral alpha.
If they’d sounded bad earlier, they looked worse.
Some of them sat, curled up, their eyes watching anyone who passed by.
Others never seemed to stop moving, as they paced or threw themselves at the bars.
I’d never been around so many auras that were continually open. I felt suffocated, my nerves on edge as my body reacted to the constant threat.
“Dinner,” said the beta, setting the tray down and backing out. Once my cell door was closed, there was a click and my cuffs fell off.
I looked up and caught his eyes. His face twisted in an apologetic grimace, and he looked away as he continued his work. He was massive, despite his youth, with short brown hair and a button nose.
I sighed and reached for the food, then froze as something rippled within our bond. Another presence crashed into it like a meteor into the ground. It was a bright, burning ball of fear that pulsed and writhed. I could feel Finch’s determination as it clashed with Kaos’s white-hot fury.
The new presence coiled in my mind, collecting itself, the fear twisting behind a cold, detached pillar, flickering with outrage.
Oh, holy hell.
I’d figured out their escape plan for me. And they really must not be thinking straight, because if I was reading this correctly, we’d just dark bonded the Crimson Duchess.
And she wasn’t happy about it.