Chapter 2 Mona
Rock bottom is a dank, cold basement.
Heat pulses through me. I press my cheek against the cool floor seeking relief, but the dust and grime cling to my sweat-slicked skin. My omega whines softly, recoiling from the filth and itchy texture.
Seven months ago, Silas attacked me, and I woke up the next day a wolf. I fled the city I called home, left everything I ever knew, and clawed my way into a new life. It was scary most of the time, exhausting all of the time, and always challenging.
But I had Beep.
Through it all, I had that infuriating, lovable, crazy-pants roommate living inside my head. She was my ride or die. My best friend. My light, when everything felt so dark.
Curled on this cold, hard, filthy cement floor, I feel her absence like a missing limb. I don’t know how to function without her.
They drugged me with magic. I recognize this feeling from my childhood. Listless. Sensitive and tired. So tired.
My omega is still here, a glowing ember in my chest, reminding me who I am. But the magic suppressing my power keeps Beep locked away. It’s terrifying being this alone. Too quiet.
The only upside is that the magic is keeping my heat at a simmer. I feel tiny sparks of fire dancing through my veins, shivers of pleasure running through me, pulsing between my legs. I shake, and it fades, but then crashes back a few minutes later, stronger.
It’s been like this for hours.
I don’t know where I am—it isn’t the dungeon from my nightmares, where Silas and Lily were kept. I’m in a basement, and it’s irritatingly domestic, like some forgotten rental—there’s a plastic bin labeled camping in the corner on a mostly empty metal shelf.
A neon bulb glares overhead, its buzz crawling under my skin, burning my retinas. I can hear the electricity winding through it, singing like a cicada stuck in my ear.
“Beep?” I whisper again, choking down the tears.
No answer.
The panic burned out hours ago, when they snatched me, shoved me into a van, bound me in magic. My body and my brain feel like they’re trudging through molasses, thoughts sluggish.
But emotionally, I’m wrecked. Beep is missing. Orion and Grayson are…
Not here.
I trace the plastic zip tie around my wrists with my fingertips, picturing Orion’s face when he promised he’d put me first. Grayson’s insistence that he knew what was best.
They didn’t mean for this to happen, I know that. But it doesn’t matter. They left me, and now I’m here in this mildew-infested basement, and I’m scared, and I fucking miss them. I miss home. Silent Peak. The only place that ever felt like it was mine, and I might never go back.
Nothing lasts. Everything good is taken away.
My chest feels like it’s caving in.
The witch who spelled and brought me here is wandering around upstairs.
He’s out of shape, foot steps labored, periodically letting out wheezing groans.
After he carried me in here, he kept going on about compensation and how out of the way this drive was for him, as if I were supposed to nod along sympathetically.
He left my legs free, and he struck me as a little stupid, so after he headed back upstairs, I hurried toward an exit across the basement, likely leading directly outside, but an invisible, magical barrier sent electricity searing through my body when I got close, and it knocked me right on my ass.
So, I’ve made myself uncomfortably numb, huddled on the floor in the corner.
Another cramp hits me, and I curl deeper into myself. Lifting my shirt with my bound hands, I bury my face in the fabric, but it does little to sate my omega. She cries, and I cry with her, aching in my body and my heart.
I wish I knew what was coming, what the witches wanted from me.
Will Grayson and Orion find me?
Will they find me in time for whatever’s coming?
The witch upstairs lumbers toward the basement door. It creaks open. The steps groan beneath his feet. He gets to the bottom, then walks over to me, tosses a water bottle. It hits me in the shoulder, and I flinch in pain.
I don’t move to grab it.
“Drink.”
I can’t. I can’t move, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.
The man yanks my t-shirt down from my eyes, the neon light blinding me. My omega cries again.
“I said, drink, dammit!” He leans down, picks up the water bottle, cracks it open, then holds it over my lips. He pours the water in, though most of it spills down my neck and onto the floor. But he keeps the bottle tilted until it’s empty, and I choke on the last few sips.
He sighs as if I’m the inconvenience. “That bitch better be here soon. I ain’t no babysitter.”
I glance up at him. Even moving my eyes feels like they’re stuck in peanut butter.
Then a spike of heat blasts through me, and as the desire pulses between my legs, I quickly look away from the man.
There are different kinds of terror. Some are haunting, anxiety-fueled. The worry dances inside you, never sitting still, making you want to move fast and far, like maybe you can outrun it.
And sometimes terror is sharp—so sharp, it’s like a spike, and it freezes you in place, hoping, praying you go unnoticed.
The witch is oblivious to my heat, the unnatural lust curling through me, and I hold my breath and keep my gaze averted so it stays that way.
He sneers. “Don’t know what she wants you for. Deidre’s always been cryptic. You’re a wolf, huh?”
I say nothing.
“Wolves’re a dime a dozen. What’s so special ‘bout you?”
I can’t believe this is the guy who captured me.
He grunts when I don’t respond, then looks around the empty room, scratching his chin.
“Well, they should be here soon. Got another wolf with her too—her little pet. Used’ta never go anywhere without that one.
” The man’s face twists with disgust, a visible shudder running through him.
“Don’t know how she can sink herself so low and fuck one of ‘em.”
His eyes drill into mine, searching for a reaction, before he finally turns and stalks away. Who is he talking about? Which wolf? God, he can’t mean Silas, can he?
Another roll of cramps tears through me, and I forget all about what Silas may or may not have done.
My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches. Each wave grows stronger, the magic burning off a little faster, like ice cubes melting in the summer sun.
Every second brings me closer to Beep, but it also drags me closer to my heat.
My stomach churns with a new kind of nausea.
When I want to fuck anything in sight, I won’t care that Beep is with me. Unfortunately, I won’t care who else is here, either. The thought of what—or who—I might reach for when I lose all reasoning makes my skin crawl.
My fingernails dig into the cement. I close my eyes, but can still feel the neon light burning through my eyelids. Scratching the ground, I take deep breaths, though my lungs struggle as another wave hits. Maybe Orion and Grayson will come.
I repeat their names like a mantra, whispering into the empty room, desperately hoping they’ll save me before it’s too late.