Chapter 42
brYLEE
We erupt from the building with all the force of magma, full of violent, wild fire, and without a plan. Sprinting across the clearing that surrounds the building, I feel exposed. I clutch my gun closer and scan my surroundings.
A barrage of gunfire makes me duck as I run.
"Three o'clock!" Luka calls out, and we all swivel our eyes to see a hole in the side of a hill—a disguised door now pitted with holes, swinging open like this is the fucking Shire.
Only, cute little hobbits don't come pouring out. Alphas do.
Massive, brawny, terrifying alphas.
"What the hell?" Kylian voices the question that flits through all our minds.
Wild cackles contrast the midmorning sun as gargantuan male alphas stumble out of the darkness and into the open air.
Some are clothed, but nearly half are nude and carrying makeshift weapons like broken table legs or standing lampposts.
Some carry guns I recognize as ours, sending a pang through me for our fallen.
"Omega!"
They don't say it victoriously but greedily, hungrily.
They say it like alphas who are on the hunt, predators seeking prey.
Goose bumps rise on my arms, and ice-cold dread traces up my spine. Despite the heat of the muggy morning, I'm suddenly shivering in my bodysuit because some very deep-seated part of me realizes that if those men get to me, there will be no escape.
It won't be like my kidnappings.
Wit won't matter.
Cleverness won't suffice.
These alphas move with hunched shoulders and lion-like grace. But there's something about their snarls that's lost a sense of humanity. They aren't even thrilled by violence the way Kylian is.
They are violence.
The leader of Alpha Team X stops running instantly, dropping to a knee and siting his weapon on the alphas emerging from that hill.
"Stop or I'll shoot!" Ridge warns.
They don't stop.
They speed up.
Without hesitation, Ridge shoots the alpha closest to us. The shot rings true and blasts the man in the chest just above his heart. But he jerks once and still keeps moving as if he's incapable of feeling pain.
"Omega!" the alpha grunts.
Around him, the others jerk their heads toward us.
Though they're probably realizing Ridge is the one who shot them, I can't help the prickling feeling at the back of my neck that says they're looking at me. Paranoia whispers that they know.
Have my scent suppressants failed?
My head starts to slosh with worries as they turn and charge in our direction.
"Get her out," Ridge orders Colter as Kylian lets his rifle dangle and pulls out a handgun instead.
I book it for the tree line so that Colter doesn't end up throwing me over his shoulder like the glimmer in his eye hints he'd like to do.
"What are you doing?" Luka hisses at him through our comms.
"These shoot slower. Gives them a chance to shoot back. That's more exciting," Kylian replies before letting out a “whoop” and blasting one of the alphas rushing toward us.
I whip my head toward Kylian's victim quickly enough to see blood bloom on the man's chest. But the alpha doesn't stumble. Doesn't stop.
He doesn't act like he's been shot at all.
What the fuck?
One crazed lunatic with deadened nerves, I'd understand. But two?
I scan the field of naked Noth alphas with newfound trepidation.
"They're fucking nuts," Luka says into the headset.
"Yeah, got that much figured out," Ridge responds drily.
Meanwhile, Colter and I have reached the trees, and we plunge into the brush without reservation. Inside my head, I visualize slamming the doors on our vehicles and peeling out of here with screeching tires. We just have to get back to them.
Hurry. Hurry.
My boots pound against the grass, and Alpha Team X calls out a retreat behind me.
Colter's huge shadow runs beside me as we make it back to the field where we'd set up camp.
Our camouflaged tents are still there, more than we now need.
We get close to a fire ring where the men roasted hot dogs last night, and I start to blast through it, but a scent in the air stops me in my tracks.
"Do you smell that?" I ask, whirling to look at Colter, nose guiding my face from side to side.
"What?" he asks.
He reaches out an arm and pins me to his side as he barrels toward the trees.
"Pennies," I respond. "It smells like copper."
Is that blood?
Doctor Tamara, maybe? I know she made a run for it—probably back to the cars. But did she get captured? Killed?
Except…there's something else mingling with the scent that's throwing me off. I can't identify it, but it's something robust and pungent that gets stronger after we pass the middle of camp and near X's tent, the largest of them all.
When we reach the tent, a flap flies open, and a massive figure emerges. He's the reason the whole camp smells like pennies. The metallic scent rolls off him in waves, and I feel like I've entered a mint where coins are stamped.
My heart and my feet screech to a halt at the same moment as a sense of disbelief washes over me.
It's the eldest son of Nóthos' king. Stefan Kairos.
Holy fucking hell.
Even though the Noths elect a president who runs the day-to-day and the war, there's a historical royal family that still lives in the kingdom. I don't exactly know what they do other than swim in money.
But their three princes are rarely ever seen in public. I only know what they look like from a briefing I eavesdropped on between my mother and her security advisor.
What could have dragged Stefan from his palace?
His long black hair sweeps across his forehead.
He has a jaw that could cut glass, a neck as thick as my thigh, and he's so tall that he dwarfs Colter by a good half a foot.
My brow furrows because I'm certain our intel doesn't have him that tall.
I swear I read something that said he was only six feet.
He takes a step closer, and I realize that his collared shirt is tattered, his black pants are torn, and he's not wearing shoes. Immediately, a stinging awareness takes up residence in the back of my throat as questions barrage my mind.
Was he in that lab? Was he underground? What is going on?
"Prince Theodore," he says, and it seems like the words take effort, as if he's dragging them up through his chest, retrieving them from somewhere deep.
The sunlight shifts and casts a bright streak across his face, and that's when I realize that his irises are surrounded by a ring of glowing blue that's the exact same shade as the vial from my broken memories.
My gut clenches.
Colter moves to slide in front of me, but my hand shoots out to stop him.
"Wait." I jut my chin up in what I hope resembles alpha confidence as I say, "What do you want?"
"The cure."
I frown, and a knot forms deep in my gut because something is terribly wrong with the world if Nóthos is coming to us for some sort of medical breakthrough. They've always had the best scientists, the biggest innovations.
Is this for karkinos? Is it possible that they don’t have the cure to the illness that plagues my brother?
"For what?"
Stefan glances over at Colter and then back at me before he answers, "For the virus your mother released on our people. For the Harpax Project."
The breath flees my body.
That's the same thing Pedro asked me about. But I have absolutely no idea what he means.
My befuddlement must show on my face because Stefan gives a crisp nod.
"I'm actually happy it seems like you have no idea what the queen did. Our sources claim you and your sister were left in the dark.”
"No clue."
He gestures toward the tent's interior. "Think we can talk?"
Here, Colter interrupts. "No. Wild alphas from that lab—"
Our earpieces crackle.
Ridge's voice calls out, "All clear here."
Luka signals back. "All clear. George and I have the door shut and secured. I'm rigging it with explosives in case someone breaks through. Should collapse the dirt on top and seal it for good."
George? Is that Mole Face's name? Guess so.
Ridge responds, "Excellent. Kylian, report."
"Does it count as clear if I'm extracting teeth?"
Ridge sighs before he asks, with the patience of a parent who's too exhausted to scold, "From a dead body or a live one?"
A gunshot rings out.
"Dead now."
"Okay, all clear. Colter, heading your way."
Colter's hand flicks up to his earpiece, but he looks at me for permission before he speaks. "Come back to camp."
He doesn't give them a heads-up beyond that, but I'm ninety percent certain that the second the other alphas spot Stefan, they'll shoot first and ask questions later.
We can't have that, so I press the button on my own com and say, "We ran into Stefan Kairos. He wants to talk."
"That dirty fucker!" Ridge's curse makes me grind my teeth. "He ambushed us."
Ridge's conclusion makes me glance over at the king’s son and evaluate the situation in a whole new light. But intuition pulls at me, whispering that my alpha isn't right this time.
"Stefan, did you set those alphas on us?"
His features twist, though I can’t decipher the emotion distorting his face. Anger, maybe. Or disgust. Or…sadness.
"Set them on you? We've been trapped in that hellhole for months."
We've?! He's been trapped? A crown prince?
"Trapped why?"
His face contorts with raw, unfettered anger. "Because, years ago, your fucking mother stole one of our best scientists. And then, more recently—not sure when—she had them create a virus. A virus she released in half a dozen cities throughout my country.”
My tongue turns to lead in my mouth, and claws of trepidation slash down my spine. It’s suddenly hard to breathe, to suck in a full breath, when it feels as if the air is laden with razor blades.
"A virus that does what?" I ask, my throat growing dry, because even as I speak the words…I know.
I fucking know, and I suddenly want to retch all over the forest floor.