by Nora Ash
I didn’t have to finish. Jerome’s dark eyes widened as they flew to the scar on my neck. “Sonuvabitch! That’s why he claimed you, ain’t it? Fuckers drugged him!”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to fight the painful jab in my chest at the vocalization of what I already knew. Zach would never have claimed me if he’d been in his right mind, and I sure as fuck hadn’t wanted him to in the first place. But that didn’t change the fact that knowing I was only his mate because he’d been driven by a desperation to no longer be alone in that hellhole still hurt like someone stabbing a finger into an open wound.
“And you? Were you an inmate?” He gave me a once-over, and I couldn’t really fault him for his assumption. I’d been on the road for more than a week—an inmate was probably not the worst thing someone could have mistaken me for.
“No. I was… I was a scientist there. I didn’t know what was happening before I saw… They did such terrible things to them. Awful. And Zach, he…” I remembered the deep lash marks on my alpha’s back after he’d refused to mate that woman, and my heart clenched. They were doing much worse to him now. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones.
I clawed at my chest as our bond wrenched again, but before I could do more than scratch at the bandages there, Jerome closed his hand around my wrists.
“And Zach?”
I shuddered, trying to focus on something other than the pain. “They tortured him. I couldn’t stand it, so I… I tried to free him. But they caught me. And they… they made him…” I flinched at the urge to rub my mating mark, but Jerome’s grip kept me from touching it.
“They made him claim me,” I finally choked out. “And then they used me to… control him.”
“God above,” Jerome murmured, finally releasing me. In his face I saw the horror I’d felt too. Back when I could feel anything but pain.
“I think… I think Zach realized I wasn’t going to last much longer,” I said. “I don’t know how he fought the drugs enough for conscious thought, but he did. And he… he managed to break me out. But they caught us, and they s-shot him. He told me to run… I didn’t think I could, I didn’t think I could leave him, but he… he gave his life for me. I had to.
“I thought he was going to die. But he didn’t. He didn’t die, and they are torturing him. They’ve… they’ve broken him. He’s not… I wish they’d kill him. Oh god, I wish they’d just kill him so he can find peace!”
I hadn’t meant to put words to that awful, desperate wish that had been haunting me since I first escaped the compound. I’d been too stunned with terror and grief to feel much of anything for some hours. I’d had a moment’s relief when I realized he wasn’t dead. Just a sliver of a second when my heart filled with hope as our bond sprang to life in my chest.
And then the agony had set in. The worst pain I’d ever experienced. They weren’t just torturing him, but how did you explain to someone who’d never carried the burden of a mate bond that every second of every day I’d felt them tear my alpha apart, until what was left was nothing but an empty, aching shell? I didn’t know what they’d done to him for our bond to hurt the way it did, but I knew whatever was left of the man whose mark I now carried, death would be the only relief he’d ever find.
I wasn’t aware of my own sobs, or my desperate attempt at clawing my bandages off, until Jerome wrapped me up in his arms so tightly I couldn’t thrash against the pain.
He didn’t say anything as I wailed in his arms, didn’t offer me anything but the strength of his body holding me against him while I fought to tear out the tether in my chest.
When I could finally breathe again, he sat me down on the bar stool next to his and went to one of the kitchen cupboards. He returned with a large glass and a bottle of whiskey.
I stared blankly at the glass as he filled it to the brim and nudged it over to me.
“Drink,” he said. “All of it. It’ll give you a few hours’ peace.”
It burned my throat as it went down, but it was a welcome pain. It distracted me from the thread of shards behind my ribs. And true to his word, it didn’t take many minutes before a pleasant numbness set in.
I didn’t even register the world going dark before I was taken by a dreamless sleep.
It was the first time I’d slept in a week, and even though I woke up with a bad headache thanks to the alcohol, it was still worth it.
I stared blearily up in the sloped ceiling above me, the rough pine planks illuminated by faint daylight. The barbed wire in my chest pulsed, sending slow tendrils of pain through my body, but it was duller than before. He was sleeping. Or passed out. That was when the pain was the easiest to bear.
I pressed my palm to my bandaged ribs and prayed that today would be the day he never woke up. That I’d feel the tether snap. I knew the pain of it would kill me too, and I yearned for it. Yearned for the sweet relief of death I could never have so long as he was still alive. I couldn’t leave him to suffer alone. That would be too cruel.
I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling until my bladder forced me to get up and search out a bathroom. There was one just next to the small room I’d slept in, one of just three doors attached to the tiny landing of Jerome’s cabin. When I peeked into the third, an unmade bed and the vaguely familiar scent of the gruff alpha let me know the only other room on this floor was his bedroom.
Relieved he hadn’t made me sleep in his room, in his scent, I finished my business and descended the creaky stairs. The whole cabin had a handmade feel to it, and I wondered if Jerome had built it himself. It would’ve been a big job for one man, but he didn’t seem the type to swap trades with his neighbors.
The living room was quiet, so I didn’t expect the stranger sitting on the couch as I rounded the corner.
I stopped, muscles still fresh with the memories of flight tensing as our eyes locked.
He was big and burly and clearly an alpha, and at the sight of me, his blond eyebrows locked in a frown. “That her?”
“‘Course it’s her. How many females do you think I have hanging around?” Jerome’s voice made me jerk my gaze in his direction. He was sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping from a giant mug. At my longing look, he got up and fetched another equally giant mug, pouring brown liquid from a silver Thermos.
“Can I have a look?” the stranger asked, as I closed my fingers around the steaming mug. The heat felt good against my skin—like a whisper from a past I’d long since forgotten existed.
“Sure,” Jerome said, plopping down on the barstool again. “Be gentle, though, she spooks easily.”
I stiffened, eyes darting to the stranger as he got up from the sofa, the piece of furniture creaking underneath him. “W-what are you…?”
“Easy now, girl. Beau’s just gonna take a look at your claiming mark.” Jerome nodded at the blond alpha, who’d stopped a few steps away, a hand raised in what was possibly meant as a soothing gesture.
“Why?” Shifting my grip on the mug I clamped a hand over my scar, tendrils of fear snaking through my brain. I’d spent too long having others’ will forced upon me, upon my body, to voluntarily turn my vulnerable nape to an unknown alpha. This wasn’t the man with whom Zach had entrusted my safekeeping.
“Because frankly, the idea Barnes’d ever claim a scientist is pretty incredible. I’d like to see for myself,” the stranger rumbled.
“He’s a friend, Lillian,” Jeremy said. “Let him see.”
I glanced to my would-be protector, but he seemed as calm as ever. Hesitantly, I removed my hand from my nape and let it hang by my side. No longer fighting it, but also not inviting it.
The blond crossed the few remaining steps between us and pushed my messy hair out of the way. Goosebumps broke out across my neck and ran down my back and arms at the sensation of his fingers skimming lightly over my raised flesh, but I managed to hold still.
When he bent his head and drew in a deep breath of my scent, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the time Dr. Axell h
ad let five feral alphas at me.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the blond murmured. When he pulled back, his brows were furrowed. “Barnes really claimed a mate.”
“Told ya,” Jerome said. “She’s telling the truth. He’s fucking locked up in a research facility like a damn rat.”
Beau shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes. “That’s not right.”
“So you’re in?” Jerome arched an eyebrow at his friend.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m in.” The stranger flexed his hands, his anger seeping into his scent as he rolled his shoulders to ease it.
I swallowed thickly, the smell of angry alpha setting every instinct in my body on high alert. “I don’t understand… What’s this about? Who are you?”
“Beau’s from our squad,” Jerome said, a grim look on his features. “Barnes is our brother, and we ain’t about to leave him behind to be a government lab rat for the rest of his miserable life.”
“But he…” I frowned, trying to process his words over the steadily increasing hum in my ears. “He killed your captain… didn’t he? That’s why he was on death row? He’s a war criminal?”
Jerome exchanged a look with Beau. “Yeah, he killed our captain.”
“Then why…?” The hum vibrated through my eardrums and into my skull, making my teeth tingle. These men… they were talking about freeing him.
My heart pounded, but I fought against the tendrils of hope trying to spread from the dimly throbbing chord there.
“Because things aren’t always what they seem, girl,” Jerome sighed. He was going to continue, but Beau cleared his throat and shot his friend a warning glare.
“We made a promise, Willis,” the blond said. “She doesn’t need to know.”
“Tell me!” I demanded, my voice sharper than I’d intended. “He’s my mate. If he—if he isn’t a criminal, I have a right to know.”
I couldn’t stop the tendrils this time. For the first time since my escape, my bond didn’t hurt. Warmth spread in its wake and I pressed my free hand to my chest, desperate hope flaring against my better judgment. If I could see him again… if I could look into his eyes and know he wasn’t a bad man…
Then perhaps death wouldn’t be the only way out.
“We swore an oath,” Beau said. “But if we get him out, maybe he’ll tell you himself.”
“How?” Where there had been nothing but dead flesh and pain before, a fire now burned. One last, desperate light. A chance at life not tainted by misery and darkness. And I clung to it with all my might like a drowning woman offered one final chance to breathe.
“We are not the only ones who owe our lives to your mate,” Jerome said, pushing the mug away as he looked at the blond alpha. “We will contact our old team. They will come. And then you’ll lead us to where they hold him. No SEAL ends his days as a lab rat. Not on our watch.”
Chapter 3
351
It had been a long time since light touched his eyes. Maybe weeks. Months. Years. He wasn’t sure. Time hadn’t made sense since he’d woken up in hell.
The bulb above him tore at his eyes and he hid his face in his hands to escape its burn. But the screech of metal pushed over concrete made every aching muscle in his body tense with memories of pain.
“Get up!”
He rose at the sound of that hated voice, blind but acutely aware of the cold draft against his naked skin from the open space behind his tormentor. He no longer saw that opening as freedom. He had, in the beginning, he vaguely remembered. But he knew better now. It wasn’t the cool air he charged for.
His world was pain. Pain, and the tormentor here to extract yet another ounce of it from his flesh. No matter how many times they showed him there was no point, he couldn’t hold back the roar in his blood to kill. Every time the metal gave way for cool air, he lunged at it to maim and break apart every living thing that entered his dark hell, his instincts the only thing left in him that still resembled life.
Sharp, electric agony tore through his neck and lanced through his body. He fell to the floor with a thud, seizing as the metal collar squeezed his throat. It didn’t stop until he lay limp, unable to move, save for the involuntary jerks as the electricity short-circuited his nerves.
“You’d think you’d learn,” that hated voice sneered somewhere above him. “Even animals can be trained. And that’s all you are, isn’t it? An animal.”
The words made no sense to him. They were nothing but noise. The tone he knew, though. Anger. Anger that led to more pain.
A swift kick in his already bruised ribs proved him right yet again. He groaned, unable to move, let alone defend himself.
But no more beatings followed that first kick. He lay still, waiting for it to continue, but there was nothing. Only the sound of inhaling and exhaling somewhere above him told him he wasn’t alone.
“I know you’re waiting for me to kill you. But I won’t. You’re still valuable. Only a broken man can truly be rebuilt, and that’s what I’ll do with you. You will be my soldier, inmate. Even without her, your bond is still there. I’ll find a way to use it, to leash you like the dog you are. You’ll never escape. I’ll never let you die.”
This time, one of the words made it through to his fogged mind.
Bond.
He groaned, shutting his eyes tighter at the pull in his chest. He tried to force his body to curl in on itself, to protect the soft place, that single part of him that was something other than agony.
“You understood that, didn’t you?” The voice was taunting now. Smug. “Even now, all you care about is that cunt. If only you’d known how easy you’d be to control once you took her, maybe you’d have kept fighting me. Would you even have orchestrated her escape if you’d known how much worse being separated would be?”
The rise in tone indicated a question, but his tormenter didn’t wait for his answer. His footfalls moved away toward the cool air. He shouted something, and then several more people entered the small cell.
351 snarled, expecting the beating he’d been waiting for, but they grabbed him under his arms instead and dragged him toward the open space.
Endless corridors of too-bright light followed. His heels dragged on the floor, skin breaking against the rough concrete. Metal shrieked and slid as they maneuvered him into new, tight spaces. On and on.
A host of scents assaulted his senses, his instincts fighting to place them all through the fog. He hadn’t smelled anything but his own filth and blood for a long time, along with the scent of his tormenter and occasionally other males. Now his nose forced images through his brain of bright white rooms with equipment and needles, vague memories of being clean, and something else. Something that made the thread in his chest hum out of tune.
Female. The word cut through just as a desperate howl rang through his ears. A female’s scream.
He jerked violently, the thread turning sharp and urgent, and fought despite his leaden limbs, instincts urging him on. That sound… That smell! He had to protect—
“Hold him!” his tormenter snarled. “If I shock him again, he’s gonna be out for the rest of the day, and I want him to see this. He’s ready for the next step and we’ve wasted enough time.”
Strong arms constricted around his limbs, so much more powerful than his own broken body, propping him upright while still containing his struggle to free himself. The sound, the female, still whimpered and screamed, closer now, along with wet, smacking sounds that resonated in the core of his being. He knew those sounds. His body knew them…
“Dim the lights.”
The burn against his closed eyelids eased and he forced them open. The light still hurt, still made his eyes water, but it was soft enough now that he could fight against it.
Slowly, the world came into focus. He shuddered as a sense of recognition set in, though he couldn’t remember from where. On the other side of a glass pane a rounded concrete space opened up, and in the middle of it, bent over a raised platform, a huge male hunkered
down. It took 351 a second to see the female underneath—the male’s body was so big it nearly blocked her out—but he heard her.
The male thrust his hips rhythmically back and forth, and 351’s body remembered. Every muscle burned as he roared and fought against the men holding him back, fought as the bond in his chest flared painfully.
Protect! Protect the female!
It was the only coherent thought he’d had since he’d entered hell, but it burned like hot iron behind his ribs as his mind was assaulted with memories he couldn’t quite seem to reach.
He’d failed her, he’d failed—
Just then, as if alerted by his roars, the female turned her head and he saw her face. It was pale, eyes wide with fear and flooding with tears, mouth open around a pained wail. But it wasn’t her.
Relief flooded his body as his bond twanged, out of tune but no longer in pain.
There was something he was supposed to remember. Something important, something connected to the softness in his chest.
He stared mutely at the screaming female, every thrust of the male into her nudging at that place in his mind that was only darkness.
“Do you remember what it means to be mated, inmate?” his tormenter asked. “Do you remember how tightly that bond binds you? Maybe one day, you’ll be able to remember that it is all thanks to you that we now know the parameters needed to make another feral claim a mate.”
His tormentor’s words made no sense. Not until the male forced his swollen knot deep into the sobbing female and buried his teeth in her neck.
Only then, and with an agony so fierce a scream tore from his chest, did he remember.
The bond was tied to his mate.
He had a mate.
And she was lost to him.
Chapter 4
Lillian
It took more than four weeks for Jerome and Beau—actual name Liam Beaumont—to gather up their team… or what was left of it. Two of their brothers in arms turned up MIA, one without a trace and the other dead. With their captain dead as well, that left five alphas making camp in the wilderness surrounding Jerome’s cabin after a month had passed.
