Chapter Sixty-Three
Saphyra
M y head throbbed, feeling overly large and heavy. There was a high pitched buzzing coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. My stomach churned, and I rolled to my knees, panting. Bile burned its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back with a grimace.
Through slitted lids, the only thing I could see was fuzzy dirt, dry under my palms and packed hard so not even my fingernails could find purchase. Why was the dirt fuzzy? Dirt shouldn’t be fuzzy like that.
The buzzing faded, if it was ever there at all, and memories of the moments before everything went black rushed in.
That whiny voice. I recognized that voice. One of Edeth’s lackeys, Mik, I think they called him. Insignificant other than his family name, or so it had seemed at the time. Realization of his betrayal dawned, and it was like cold water in my face. He’d been there that day when Shadow had sparred with Fenix’s team. The alphas had treated him as a friend. But here I was, heaving on all fours in the dirt because, apparently, he valued his position more than loyalty.
The ground lurched, and I wobbled. Maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I didn’t even know where I was or what had happened.
Wait. Shadow. Where was Shadow? I swung around and my head spun, but I found my mate crumpled on the floor across the far end of the cell. If it was worthy of the name cell. Decrepit bars lined one wall, the rest was solid, dark rock. It wasn’t like any jail I’d ever imagined. More like a dungeon.
I crawled to Shadow’s side, too dizzy to stand. His chest rose and fell evenly, and I could feel him nestled snug in the bond. Our connection was a blank slate, warm and empty. It felt much like he was sleeping.
They must have knocked him out, too. If they hadn’t, I would’ve expected to see more blood in his clothes. As it was, his jacket was gone, so were his guns and knives.
I gave him a gentle caress. “Shadow. Wake up.”
When there was no response, I took hold of his shoulder and jostled him, but nothing. He was completely limp under my hands. “Come on. Get up. Please.”
Desperation grew, and I grabbed him more firmly and shook.
He flopped over onto his back alarmingly, and I scrambled over him. “Are you okay? What did I do?”
He still hadn’t moved on his own. His breathing was calm and steady. But not me. I gulped down panicked breaths that did nothing for my swimming head.
I mumbled to myself as I looked around the bare cell. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is fine. You can handle this.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or to him, but the point still stood.
Only, as I considered my options, I accepted that my unconscious mate and I were on the wrong side of those bars with no way out. I didn’t have the luxury to panic. Our jailer could arrive at any time, and we were helpless.
There was nothing in the dungeon at all, not even a palette to lie on. Beyond the confines of our cell was a dark room with a tiny window high on the far wall. The trickle of light that spilled from it looked artificial. Not like sunlight at all. I wondered if there was a guardroom on the other side and debated the wisdom of shouting to get someone’s attention. I had no plan and was worried about making our situation worse, so I held off.
A rough looking wooden table stood alone in the center of the room with grimy shackles bolted to each corner. I didn’t want to think about what those were for. The surface was covered with objects that I had to strain my neck to see. Strewn about the tabletop were remnants of the equipment we’d been carrying, what looked like all our weapons, and the gold tablet I carried on me. A gun would be nice, but that datapad couldn’t be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.
Eyeing the large keyhole in the door, I patted my boot and unsurprisingly found the dagger Shadow had given me missing. I glanced down at my ankle and noticed that my clothes were in disarray. My pant leg was pulled up. Someone would have had to do that to get to the knife, but everything else was crooked and uncomfortable, too. I tugged my twisted sleeves into place and flinched at the soreness on the inside of my elbow. That feeling was all too familiar. When Grey was first assigned as my handler on the Hive, he drew blood for tests that left small bruises. With practice, that stopped happening, but it was a vivid memory. My belly felt tender too, and when I lifted my shirt, there were dark patches blooming with pin pricks at the center of each. What had happened to me while I’d been out? Cold dread leached the warmth from my body.
Do not panic.
I looked back at my mate. His face was relaxed, as if in slumber, but I knew better. Someone had done this to him. They had done something to me, too.
How was I supposed to protect us alone? I needed a weapon.
I scrambled to his side and searched through his pockets, doing my best to ignore his intoxicating scent and the perfect curve of his muscles. The aftermath of my shortened heat lingered, but there was no time to think about it. More of that tea would be nice, or even suppressant, but under the circumstances, I had no trouble turning my focus to the situation at hand. I continued to search all the places Shadow had hidden his weapons, but there were none to be found.
A pit opened in my stomach as I sat back on my heels. What now? Just wait to be murdered like my mother had been?
I curled up against Shadow’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He couldn’t die. I didn’t know how, but we’d get out of this.
The delicate threads connecting me to my other mates were reassuring, even if the connections were only whispers due to the distance between us.
Through my despair, the sound of a rattle and then the clunk of a lock reached me. I sat up and looked around the gloom, but Shadow was still asleep.
Oh, Stars. Someone was coming.