Chapter 61
SIXTY-ONE
LAUREL
I pulled my cardigan tighter around myself as I stared at the fighting cage of the Sink.
I was so used to seeing it from above, it seemed much larger now that I was standing directly in front of it.
Only a set of bars lay between me being able to walk over and touch the chain link around the outer edge of the Sink.
This little caged area—the Den—had been made to keep viewers safe, while being as close to the fights as possible.
It was barely used; I was only down here because of Finch’s command to switch out Ocean’s rofetamine.
I’d subtly manoeuvred the Lucas pack into closing the Duchess Suite for tonight, then made my way down here before they could invite me anywhere else.
The medicine carts were set up in their usual spot, right on the other side of the Den’s bars. I’d already filled a syringe with clear saline for the placebo. All that was left was to reach through the bars and swap the syringe, once I knew which one was going to be administered to Ocean.
The alphas would be dragged right past me to the ante-cages, drugged, and released into the bright lights to fight.
I knew from experience that I’d be able to smell the blood, the thick scents of the alphas, the way the rofetamine hung in their auras, making them metallic and wrong. The idea of Ocean’s beautiful salty black coral scent, tainted with rofetamine…well, I’d rather be anywhere else.
I was desperate to leave, but each time I tried to exit the Den, Finch’s command to carry out this plan would kick in.
So far, I’d made it up two whole stairs before the pain became too much and I was forced back.
I’d tried to cover my tracks as much as I could; I’d already bribed the staff who were on tonight so that they would keep quiet about my presence. But bribing in itself was a risky game. They could just as easily be paid off to rat me out if someone flashed more money than I had.
All for this stupid plan that wouldn’t even work, anyway.
I’d told Ocean, instructing him to take this loss and go down fast, because anyone with eyes would be able to tell he wasn’t rutting.
You can’t fake that.
My phone buzzed.
Finch: The plan hasn’t changed. Proceed.
Me: Fuck you.
I threw my phone with a hiss of frustration. It hit the wall by the door with a thud.
Stubborn, idiotic bastard.
I froze as I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, panic making my heart flutter.
Who was it?
No one ever came down here anymore.
I didn’t have the key to the Den, so I couldn’t even escape toward the pens.
There was no way out.
Please be Finch, I prayed as the footsteps got louder and the doorknob twisted.
The door swung open, and Madison stepped into the room.
I let out a silent scream inside my head as every muscle in my body tensed. I could feel the shot of adrenaline my heart was frantically pumping through my veins.
My phone, I thought. I needed to tell Finch. Surely he’d call it off if he knew Madison was down here too. But I’d thrown it across the room.
Madison's eyes locked with mine as he noticed I was here, and surprise flitted across his features for a second before they morphed into delight.
My stomach twisted.
“Duchess,” he said, walking toward me. “What are you doing down here?”
“Watching the fights,” I said, reaching out to try and claim the Duchess persona.
She remained just out of reach; I was too scared to become her right now. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a fight night without hosting the suite and wanted to take the chance to see them from down here.”
The bravado I was forcing sounded weak, even to my ears.
There was a problem with Madison and personal space; namely, he seemed to neither know nor care about it. I was forced to step back against the bars as he stood in front of me.
“You’ve watched them from the Den before?” He reached out and stroked a strand of my hair before I could answer properly.
“I have,” I said, my eyes flicking desperately to my phone, impossibly out of reach.
Finch couldn’t release me from his command without it.
I reached out to him in the bond and felt him shift from that stubborn determination to something that felt like concern.
Maybe he’d seen Madison come down here, or maybe he could feel me.
I saw the phone screen light up with a text, but I couldn’t read it from here.
Fear trickled down my spine, and I found it hard to think. “It’s very… visceral from down here.”
Madison nodded, a smile crossing his face. “I like it better when I can smell the blood,” he said, glancing at the Sink, and then back at me. “When I heard this place existed, I had to come and see.”
“Why don’t I invite the others?” I asked, hating the tremble that had crept into my voice.
I swear, Madison’s pupils dilated slightly when he heard it. “My phone’s just—”
“I’ll do it,” he said, tugging his phone out of his back pocket and shooting off a message. Fuck. “There. Now we can have a proper party.” His smile darkened as he stepped closer, forcing me back until I was pressed against the cold bars behind me.
I squeezed my hands into fists as my heart rate spiked. His aura rippled through the air, making every hair on my neck stand on end and a metallic tang bloom in my mouth.
Run, every nerve in my body was screaming, even though my legs felt like Jell-O.
I’d faced my father’s rage hundreds of times with my head held high, but something about the slow, intense way Madison was looking at me made my resolve crumble, and I couldn’t even pretend not to be terrified.
He chuckled softly, and I flinched, baring my teeth on instinct as his hand brushed against my neck.
My breathing was coming faster, my mouth dry.
“Prince says your father has quite the temper,” he said, his hand trailing down to my shoulder to find the faded welt he’d touched the night Ocean had defended me.
“Look at me,” he said, and I reluctantly lifted my eyes to meet his. “Hurting people in anger is weak,” he sneered. “Losing control means you could go too far. Break someone. You don’t have to worry about that with me.”
He leaned closer, bending down so his lips brushed against my ear. “I promise I won’t break you, Duchess,” he whispered. “I’m very good at knowing when to stop.”
I gritted my teeth, disgust rising in my throat, and felt a flare of anger burn through the paralyzing terror, unlocking my limbs.
Twisting in his grasp, I shoved him away with every ounce of strength I possessed.
Caught by surprise, he stumbled back. I tried to dodge around him to go grab my phone, but he caught my arm and held me in place.
A low laugh rumbled from him as he towered over me, but he was interrupted when the door to the Den opened, Dax and Prince joining us.
“Laurel!” Prince said, eyes lighting up as he saw me. Then his nose wrinkled. “Good god, I didn’t know you even owned pants.”
Since I wasn’t hosting tonight, I was wearing a pastel tank top and billowy pants. The tight waist on the dresses rubbed constantly on my half-healed bond mark through the dressing, and it was nice to wear some comfier clothes, especially my soft cardigan.
Even if that was apparently unacceptable to Prince.
“Everything all right?” Dax asked, his gaze flicking between me and Madison. Madison tugged me toward him with a smile.
“Fine,” he said. “Me and Laurel were just getting to know each other a bit more.”
“Exactly,” I said, managing to keep a straight face. I had to try and get to my phone without drawing notice.
“What good luck,” Dax said, walking over to me. “I was just telling Prince what a shame it was that we hadn’t caught you tonight when Mads texted.”
“Serendipity,” I gritted through a forced smile. I was hyperaware of my phone by the door, but Dax slung his arm around my shoulders and guided me to the ancient couches.
I couldn’t focus on keeping my mask on as the fights started.
I watched as two chained alphas were dragged past the Den and into the ante-cages.
The medics came over to the cart to fetch the syringes, and the alphas were held down as the rofetamine was injected.
Then they all scrambled out of the ante-cage, locking it behind them and opening the side that faced the pit.
I was gripping the sides of my seat as I watched the alphas convulse. They didn’t show this part on the screens. I chanced a glance over at my phone again, but it was too risky to go and grab it. What if they took it and looked at Finch’s messages? Then I’d be in worse trouble.
My time was running out, and, too soon, Ocean was being dragged out of the security doors that led to the pens. He didn’t look up as he passed us.
The prickles of pain were starting, and I stood up to look, needing to try something. “Is this the rofetamine?” I asked, glancing down at the vials. “I don’t think I’ve seen it up close before.”
The placebo syringe was burning a hole in my pocket as I edged closer.
I was dangerously close to tears.
This whole thing was insane, and I wanted to run, but I didn’t have a choice.
“Quite the wonder drug, eh?” Prince said, coming to stand next to me. Dax was behind him, looking at the syringes. I bent down and picked up the one destined for Ocean, turning it in my hand.
“It truly only takes this much to send them into a rut?” I asked, peering at it.
“Even less,” Dax said. At that moment, Ocean’s opponent gave a savage snarl, and I took the chance, squeaking and dropping the syringe.
“Sorry,” I said, dropping to my knees and swapping them as fast as I could. “Being down here makes me jumpy.”
I straightened and placed the placebo back on the tray. The medics were coming over, and Dax was saying something, but I didn’t hear him over the buzz of relief sweeping over me.