Chapter 4 Someone That I Used to Know
Someone that I used to know
The rock is easy to climb but higher than it looks. Even so, the trees tower above us, and there are vines on all the walls, making it feel like we’re alone in the world. The city has vanished; there is just this tiny little world and whatever is on that rock.
With a grunt, I pull myself up over the edge of the rock and roll onto my back, letting out a tiny chuckle.
I hate the cities, and I have missed being out in the wild.
All that world is open and ready to be explored.
A place where I understand the rules. Hardly anyone lives out there now because of the Ravage.
It’s said that the virus still lingers in the air.
That it can still grab hold of a person and reshape their bones and remake the core of who they are until the person is a rabid dog lusting for flesh and killing indiscriminately, but I’ve never seen any sign of that.
I think it’s just an old twisted tale.
If I did get the virus, I hope I take out as many of those black-robed beta vermin as I can.
I roll and rise to my knees, almost pitching myself sideways off the rock when I hear a snort.
I whip around, gasping as I struggle to find my balance. I’ve never seen a wolf before, but I think this is what it is. On my knees, the creature, even bound to the stone by ropes and ropes of chain, still stands taller than me. I think he could open his mouth and swallow my head.
His fur is black with crimson tips, like someone bled on him, and his eyes are the same murderous red, glowing with an inner fire. I sway, and his intense glare tracks my movements. One huge paw shifts as much as it can, dragging furrows in the stone.
What am I looking at? Why is my head spinning?
I can almost feel my mother’s hands on my shoulders, her smile warming us both. She leans down, the smell of peach filling the air. Her whisper is full of amusement and a seriousness that makes my eyes fill with tears.
“A gift from the gods,” she whispers. My mother’s words don’t make sense.
I close my eyes, trying to keep that lingering feel of her with me.
If my mother died, then she died in agony, in the Culling Ground, chased, hunted, and afraid. No one has seen her here. Not for years.
I shouldn’t have left her, I think as the wave of grief threatens to wash me away.
Why am I thinking about her now?
Opening my eyes doesn’t make the wolf disappear.
Maybe he can kill them all. I lunge towards him full of reckless fury.
I ignore his warning growl, grabbing the chains, pulling them easily from his body and dropping them off the rock.
The sound of them falling as they crash to the ground is like tinkling music.
Each coil thrown away offers him his freedom.
“I don’t know who you are,” I say quietly, “but we all deserve a chance.”
I pull the last one, struggling with it, and, with a click, it falls away. The wolf stands up, and I get to see its massive size.
It’s as tall as me, longer than a horse, and its paws could crush my chest easily.
Another sound has me turning. The gate is opening. I curse and look around, but there’s nowhere to hide. I slam into him and shove him. It occurs to me in the back of my mind that I should not be throwing myself at a dangerous creature.
“Run while you can,” I hiss.
I leap for the roof, catching the gutter with my fingertips. That massive black wolf leaps over me, clearing it easily. He turns and looks back at me. Our eyes lock.
Something there…like I should know who he is. Like the story my mother told me, it is sitting just at the back of my mind, hidden. Who is he?
I slip off the roof, falling into the garden. I land hard and smash my head on the ground.
I hope he eats us all, I think in stunned pain as the dark creeps across my vision.
I wake up with an aching head and gingerly roll until I’m sitting up. Judging by the chill in my limbs, I’ve been here for a while. My stomach roils, and I sit there, dizzy, waiting for it to pass.
I half expected that I’d be in irons, already halfway down to my own private hell in the citadel.
Strangely, when I turn my head from side to side, I find that not only can I move okay, but that I’m alone.
I haven’t been discovered.
My skin crawls, but despite the niggling feeling, I push myself up onto my feet and do a quick check of my body.
Nothing is broken other than the pain and lump on the back of my head, and my shoulder’s hurting a little but not bad. It would appear I’ve come out unscathed.
The wolf flashes in my mind, and I go perfectly still, then whip around. The chains are on the ground, coiled up like serpents. Cricket’s chirp and then go still. The quiet of the night seems suddenly oppressive, and I decide to get out while I can.
The wolf can handle himself, I’m sure.
I sneak back the way I came and pull myself up on the fence before slipping down. I reach for my cowl, but it’s gone. My hands tremble. I look back and around frantically because there’s only one reason it wouldn’t be on my body. Someone took it from me.
My skin breaks into goosebumps, and, for a moment, I shake, unsure, terrified of what to do.
It doesn’t last long; I’m too well trained. I take off, diving into the buildings and running like that wolf is on my tail. It would be better if it were him.
There are much worse options in black robes.
Hours pass, but I’m too scared to stop moving.
The sun rises, and the empty streets fill with people, the smell of food and the bustling sounds as they go about their business.
My legs ache, and I find that I can’t go on.
I crawl into a building, go up to a hidden corner that looks like it hasn’t seen people in decades, and lay down.
I’m bordering on sleep hours later, when I hear the first furtive movements. I almost hold my breath, letting out a silent whine, hoping it’s not him.
“You’re late, Marshall.” The voice is strong, deep, commanding.
Far too commanding. An alpha? I tense and roll onto my hands and knees.
“I know I’m sorry. Things got more complicated than we thought.”
“Complicated how?”
“The Warden is here.”
“Oh, of all the omega’s heats,” the first guy curses. “Has he found anyone?”
There’s a heavy pause.
“He’s got Cai.”
I feel the tension in the space thicken, and the pulse of an alpha’s rage spreads out, pressing at my chest and making me want to whine out a sound to convince him to stop. I shove my hand in my mouth to smother any such sound.
“Right. Plan B, then.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Get back to your positions and make sure everyone is in; we’ve only a week or so until the Culls begin. We’ll meet you there.”
There’s only a week until the Culls? How did I not know that?
The second male leaves, I catch a scent of dried grass, strong and intense.
Another alpha. The first lingers in the building, causing my arms to break out in goosebumps.
I peer down, and something seems familiar about him.
It takes me a long minute, but I recognise the infamous leader of the failing Resistance.
I’d met him briefly, though he hadn’t known who I was at the time. He’d tried to talk me into joining the cause several years ago, but I’m not idealised enough to think they can make a difference in this world.
He’s a massive alpha with thick arms, thick brown hair, warm eyes, and the most impressive aim with a bow. We’d shared a meal and a campfire one night, but nothing more than that. He’s not mine, and his heart is set on someone else; that was clear to see.
Still, I’d been impressed by him, enough so that I was almost tempted to help him.
Almost.
I slip down from my perch and land lightly, but he whirls all the same, his eyes lighting up with delight when he sees me.
“Keres.”
“Bear. You discovered my identity?”
“Of course, I couldn’t believe I’d let you slip through my fingers.”
He holds out his hand. I reach out and take it only to jump back when another figure looms out of the dark, someone neither of us had seen or heard. The low growl continues until I pull my hand back. Only then does it cut off.
His scent hits me, wild, icy, and full of things I can’t name. Alpha, my mind whimpers. This male is a much stronger alpha than I have ever met before, and he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me.
My heart hammers as I take in his black clothes and jet black hair that hangs down to his mid-back. His eyes seem to almost glow a deep amber, but as he takes a step, he stumbles and crashes to the ground.
The scent gets stronger, and I lean in despite myself. This is an alpha and one who isn’t wearing suppressants. His scent is intoxicating. Strangely, I think of snow, but I’ve never seen it before.
“Who are you?” Bear growls.
My own mind echoes his question, but I can’t tear my eyes away from this stranger.
I step past the Resistance leader, ignoring his hiss and lean in close, my fingers touching the alpha’s hand. I don’t know how I know, but I know he won’t hurt me.
“Alpha,” I whisper the word, and his head snaps up, that gaze colliding with mine, punching me in the gut because I feel like I should know this alpha. Because, for the first time in my life, I am responding to an alpha as an omega.
Slick pools in my underwear, my body trembles, and my scent turns a little sweeter.
“Fuck, he’s going to get us caught for sure,” Bear says and rummages in his bag. He pulls out a patch and slaps it on the back of the alpha’s exposed neck.
The technology of the past might be gone, but we’ve remembered the chemical compounds to neutralize scent still. Wet paper with a bit of gum from certain trees will hold the patch on for a few hours.
It’s not elegant, but it works in a pinch. I’m relieved when his scent is almost instantly less potent.
“Right, let’s go.”