Chapter 6
Chapter Six
I’m taken to medical. That’s good. It means they still need me.
Leadership doesn’t want me dead. At least, not yet.
My wheelchair squeaks, and I focus on the grating noise as I’m led through the heavy double doors separating medical from the shifter containment area.
Daniel is waiting just inside. I don’t know if that’s a good thing.
He greets the soldiers with a dip of his chin. “I can take it from here.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he rounds me, taking over pushing my wheelchair. Why is he here? Watching me? Protecting me? Making sure I don’t step out of line?
When leadership inevitably decides to kill me, Daniel’s proximity to me will raise questions. They must already be upset with him for giving me that switchblade. Any further interaction will make him look guilty. He’s playing a dangerous game.
Daniel brings me into a private medical room. It’s bare—white walls with clean, sterile furniture. A small tray of food sits at the foot of the bed. I lick my lips, my empty stomach twisting painfully. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.
“How are you feeling?” Daniel walks around the wheelchair, stopping only once he’s directly facing me. “Has the shifter hurt you?”
He’s acting as if this is normal. Like this is just another check-in.
I blink. “I feel like shit. And no, he hasn’t.”
Daniel hums, helping me out of the wheelchair and into the bed. I’m not immediately nauseous when I stand, which I’m taking as a good sign.
I point to the tray of food. “Is that for me?”
“Yes.”
I snatch up the tray, not wasting time as I shove the flavorless scrambled eggs down my throat. I’m not sure how frequently I’ll be fed, and I won’t pass up the opportunity.
When was the last time Adam ate? He must be hungry, too. Maybe I can regurgitate some of my food and feed him like a baby bird.
Jesus Christ. I’ve officially lost it.
“How’s your hand?” Daniel asks.
I slow my chewing, immediately on edge.
“It’s healing as expected,” I say. “All my fingers work.”
Daniel sits in the chair beside my bed. His stare is intense, and I do my best to pretend I’m not affected by it.
“How long am I expected to share that cell with the shifter?” I ask. I keep my tone neutral. “I’m trying to get information from him, but he’s not speaking.”
Breaking free from that cell is impossible, but if I can convince leadership to let me out, I just might stand a chance at saving Adam and me. I have no idea how I’d go about it, but it’ll be easier if we aren’t both locked up inside.
Daniel doesn’t immediately answer. He never makes anything easy.
I don’t push. He doesn’t respond well to that. He does things on his own time and in his own way. Always has, always will.
“Benji wants you with the wolf,” he eventually says.
“I understand that,” I snap. “But why?”
There’s a quiet buzz before the door to the room opens. I hurry to finish eating as the blue-haired woman from yesterday comes sauntering inside. She’s the one with a mate marking.
What are the odds I can convince her to help Adam and me? Judging by the dark red coloring of her marking, I would say the odds are low.
Daniel straightens up. “Hey, Bells.”
Bells?
Her gaze flickers between Daniel and me, but her bright-green eyes linger on Daniel for a beat too long.
He notices, his eyelids lowering. I continue looking between the two, confused, before grimacing.
Gross. They’ve fucked. Or they’re actively fucking.
I don’t know, nor do I want to. I don’t like to think of Daniel as a sexual being.
Bells is half his age.
She walks into the room with a tight smile, her blue scrubs swishing with each step. I suck my cheeks into my mouth, resisting the urge to frown as she yanks on a pair of gloves.
“How are you feeling, Evelyn?” she asks.
“I’m not dead yet.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She unwraps the bandage on my head, her touch light. I stare at the wall as she cleans the stitches.
“I’m not going to re-wrap it,” she says. “But be gentle. We’ll wash your hair the next time you come in.” She gestures to my chest. “Can I take a look?”
I nod, letting her help me out of my shirt. Daniel isn’t paying attention. He pulls out his phone, tapping at the screen as Bells sets my shirt aside and peels back the bandage.
My skin is red and swollen, but it doesn’t look infected. Bells takes her time cleaning it, then applies something that burns like a fucking bitch. My entire body tenses, but I don’t pull away.
“Sorry.” She grimaces as I wince. “This is the worst part. I promise.”
I sure fucking hope so. She helps me redress, then examines my hand.
“Give her some pain medication,” Daniel says. It’s not a request.
Bells pauses. “She hasn’t been cleared…”
“I didn’t ask.”
Bells smacks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then rips off her gloves and exits the room. She’s only gone for a minute or two, and she’s clutching something in her fist when she returns.
I extend my hand, pleased when she drops two white pills into my palm. I swallow them before anybody changes their minds.
“I’m going to note this in her chart,” Bells warns.
She pulls out a tablet. For the first time, I get a good look at her marking.
Everything inside me goes still.
It’s simple, with thin, red vines traveling up her thumb and pointer finger before wrapping around her wrist. It’s a beautiful design.
And it’s not the first time I’ve seen it.
My mouth runs dry. Holy fucking shit. There’s no way.
Adam has—no, had—the same marking. Exactly the same. Is this woman Adam’s mate? There’s no way. Does she know?
She puts her tablet away. “You’re all set. I’d like to see her tomorrow.”
I slide back into my wheelchair, lost in a maze of thoughts. Daniel brings me back to the medical lobby, where he then passes me off to Smith.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.
Smith brings me to the corridor separating Adam’s cell from the rest of the facility, then vanishes. Only once the door is firmly shut behind me does the one leading to the cell unlock.
Adam pulls it open for me, his head low.
He looks unsteady, the drugs they injected into him yet to fully wear off. The collar is back around his neck, the red light blinking. I hurry inside and away from the door, not wanting him to be electrocuted again.
I fight the urge to announce that I’ve found his mate as I sit on the bed. The words burn at the back of my throat.
Adam stares at me from near the door. “Where’d you go?”
“Medical.”
“Everything okay?”
I nod, my knee bouncing. I need to tell Adam. Immediately. Ideally before HPAW figures it out. If they realize, they won’t let us anywhere near her.
Unless maybe this is all some sort of test.
“Evelyn?” Adam asks.
He joins me on the bed.
“What happened to you?” I ask.
Adam takes a long minute to answer. “I don’t remember.”
He works his jaw back and forth, then clenches and unclenches. He’s lying.
I place a hand on his shoulder. This is an opportunity. “Do you need a hug?”
The words feel ridiculous even as they leave my mouth.
Adam gives me a look that screams, “Why the fuck did you just ask me that?” and “What the hell is wrong with you?” I’m hoping he takes me up on the offer. I need him to smell Bells on me. It’s the only way I can think to tell him that I found his mate.
I shrug, feigning indifference. “You’re the one always desperate for physical contact. You said it was a shifter thing. I’m just trying to help.”
Adam wraps his arms around my shoulders, his movements cautious. I can tell the second he understands what I’m doing. His hold goes from light to suffocating within a flash, and he buries his face against my neck with a deep inhale. It ends with a barely audible whine.
He sounds like a wounded animal.
It’s recognition.
My heart pounds as he pulls away.
“Do you feel better now?” I ask.
He shoots me a sideways glance. “Sure.”
Silence is thick between us, and it’s wildly uncomfortable. Adam is smart enough to remain quiet, and I don’t volunteer an explanation. We both know what just happened, and speaking it out loud is dangerous.
“They didn’t bandage your head,” Adam points out.
“Nope.” This is an opening to tell him about his mate. “Bells—I think she’s a nurse—said I don’t need it.” I bring a hand to my head, lightly touching the sensitive skin. “She’ll wash my hair tomorrow.”
Adam clears his throat and leans back against the wall. His hands are fisted on his thighs, and he clenches and unclenches them before clearing his throat again and running his fingers through his hair.
I’m sure he isn’t happy to learn that his mate is an HPAW nurse.
Pain shoots up the back of my marked hand. I spare it a quick glance, confirming the bandage remains in place, before turning back to Adam. He’s staring at the floor, clearly lost in thought.
“Adam…” I murmur.
“Yeah?”
I grimace, then gesture to the toilet. “I need to go.”
He groans, then wordlessly places his hands over his ears and faces the wall. This is embarrassing. There’s no seat, leaving me no choice but to squat.
My thighs shake under my body weight, but I manage to pee without falling over or making a mess. Adam covers his ears until I’ve finished, but the way he uncovers them the second I’ve pulled up my pants tells me he still heard everything.
I return to the bed, shaking out my marked hand. It continues to burn. What the fuck did Bells do to it? It didn’t hurt like this earlier.
Adam lies back on the bed, then smacks his chest. “Come on, then.”
I hesitate before draping myself over him. He turns, his nose tickling the top of my head.
Bells removed my bandage and cleaned my wound, so I’m sure the area smells heavily of her. I can’t imagine how Adam is feeling right now, but I force myself not to dwell on it as I begin thinking through ideas.
Caleb might not be coming. It’s up to me to get us out of here.