by Katie May
Square cells are evenly spaced three feet apart. Some are nicer than others, bedecked in clean sheets, carpeting, and have a separate room for toilets and showers. Others are nothing but gray boxes with a sleeping mat, one scratchy blanket, and a chamberpot.
As I said before, there’s a hierarchy.
We pass a couple fucking, and both immediately cover themselves when we stalk by, eyes wide with fear. A bear shifter rears back on his hind legs when we invade his space, pauses, and then ducks his head in submission.
At the end of the hall, we veer to the right and to a familiar block of cells. My inner circle.
Jerome, Klaus, Manny, and Braelyn. Four of the most ruthless, vicious shifters I have ever laid eyes on. They had arrived in the Labyrinth with chips on their shoulders, and I had worked tirelessly to fuel their anger and rage. I provided the tinder in order to create a brilliant, all-consuming fire.
And while they’re loyal, they’re also fierce haters of Blade and his gang. If they had gotten to Nina...
Cursing, I pick up my pace, shoving lone shifters out of the way. Damien, sensing my unease, moves to stand beside me, a dagger in each hand. I don’t bother to tell him to hang back; the man needs blood just as much as I do.
The door swings open on silent hinges, and the sight I see makes my blood run cold. The ice squeezes my heart, crushing it.
My mate—my motherfucking mate—is tied to a table in the center of the room. Her black curls are matted with dirt and sweat, cascading off the side. Her eyes are closed, head lolled to the side. A form-fitting silver dress is ripped, revealing her creamy white thigh. Dirt discolors her beautiful face.
Standing around her are members of my inner circle. Braelyn is smiling slightly, a knife held loosely in her hand. Jerome and Klaus rest against the door, the latter appearing uneasy. Manny is tying the last rope around her ankle.
“You have three seconds to move before I kill you,” Damien says in a deathly calm voice. Braelyn’s head whips up, and she flashes me a smug smile. That smile falters when she catches sight of first my—and then Damien’s—expression.
“Rion. You’re back,” she breathes. Manny drops Nina’s ankle, slowly backing up. Smart man, going under the impression that he values his good-for-nothing life.
And...
Just kidding.
Damien’s knife embeds itself cleanly in Manny’s eye. The shifter’s mouth opens in shock, blood gurgling, before he falls to the ground, dead.
“Anyone else,” the mage asks, holding up his second knife. Jerome and Klaus turn on their heels and run out the door.
They can run... it’ll make the hunt all the more exciting later on.
Braelyn hisses, feline eyes hurling daggers at me.
“Rion!” Her voice is high-pitched in accusation and anger. “How could you?” Normally, I would have agreed with her. What leader shows up at their home with the enemy? But alas, I’m going to have to murder her, which is a shame. She was a damn good Vice President.
“Step away from my mate,” I whisper darkly. Braelyn’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, flickering between me and Nina and then back to me. Slowly, she backs away, hands raised as if fending off a dangerous predator.
A funny and accurate analogy, if I do say so myself.
“Mate?” she asks, notable terror in her voice. Good. She should be afraid. Friend or not, she was going to hurt my mate. Hell, she might’ve hurt her already.
“Why else do you think I’ve been gone for so long?” I purr, stepping forward.
“I thought—”
“Lies. You have no thoughts. I imagine it’s kind of lonely in that little head of yours.” I rap my knuckles against her forehead, and she winces, despite the fact I hardly applied pressure. Braelyn really has been an asset to the team. It’s such a shame I have to kill her. “You don’t ever question my decisions, Brae.” I tilt her chin up to meet her eyes directly. “I told you I would be gone for the foreseeable future. I told you the reasons were personal. You had one job to do and one job only: look after this place and my people.” I tighten my grip on her—not to the point of pain, but enough to get my point across.
“We came across an opportunity,” she stutters out. “Our sources told us that this girl is Blade’s lover—”
“Shifters have been known to share their mate,” I cut in, giving her a pointed stare. Her eyes widen at my revelation, but smartly, she doesn’t respond. “From now on, we will work on making peace with Blade’s people. Blah blah blah. I’m boring myself with this talk.”
“Can we kill her?” Damien cuts in savagely. I glance over my shoulder as the mage steps back into the room, dripping with blood. I didn’t even hear him leave. Interesting. He really lives up to his reputation: an esteemed serial killer and assassin. I’ll give him a solid five-star Yelp review.
“Did you just kill my last two inner circle members?” I ask, morbidly curious but not at all upset. I’m actually a little peeved I didn’t get to kill them myself. Sigh. Another day.
Damien shrugs once before moving toward Nina’s side. He lifts a hand as if to stroke her hair before immediately lowering it. Instead, his eyes caress her body with a warmth that melts his frosty exposition. Awww. The little psychopath actually has a heart. I’m touched.
“Now, how should we kill you?” I muse, turning my attention back to Braelyn. She trembles, her fear contaminating the small, barren room. Fear always has a distinct scent—a heady combination of sweat and piss.
“Don’t,” a frail voice calls, and I spin toward Nina, my mate. Her blind eyes are opened and staring at a spot on my shoulder. She opens her mouth, snaps it closed, and then opens it once more. “Don’t... Don't kill her.”
Chapter 32
Nina
There’s a stillness to the air, like the calm before an impending storm. I feel it sweep over my legs and arms, an almost palpable entity, before settling on my chest. There’s no pressure, no weight. It just sits there like an uncomfortable pest I’m unable to remove. I would almost describe it as a feeling. What that feeling is, I can’t say.
Time is momentarily suspended as I float in this strange, in-between place. Darkness consumes my vision, but it’s not frightening. Sometimes, I embrace the dark because the light is too much for me to handle.
Slowly, painstakingly slow, I regain feeling in my body. My wrists and ankles burn fiercely, but the pain is dull in comparison to what I have felt before. My mind feels groggy, sluggish, like it’s full of cotton balls.
I extend my senses outwards, aware of hands removing the ropes from my ankles.
What...?
Who...?
The last thing I remember is being dragged out of the cage by an unfamiliar male while Braelyn watched in morbid amusement. And then...nothing.
I push my awareness into the nearest person’s head to see him staring down at me. My face is sweaty and pale, dark bags beneath both my eyes. The makeup Rebecca applied is now smeared giving me a distinct raccoon quality. My black hair is tangled, and the gorgeous silver dress is ripped down the sides.
As his hands diligently work to untie me, I realize that my savior is Damien. He’s the only man I know who wears a pressed black suit with white cufflinks.
I want to thank him for coming for me, for saving me, but the words get lost in my throat. Damien’s a lot of things—most of them terrifying—and I’m not sure how he’ll take my gratitude.
Mr. Scruffles’s accented voice penetrates the fog in my brain.
I whip my head in his general direction, unable to see him with Damien’s gaze firmly on me.
“Now, how should we kill you?” His dark tone sends prickles of unease up and down my spine. I’ve heard his voice high-pitched from laughter, I’ve heard him teasing, but I’ve never heard him so mad before. If Damien is ice, Rion is fire.
Finally, Damien lifts his head to stare in the cat shifter’s direction.
Rion has his hands on either side of Braelyn’s face, holding her steady
. The female shifter is trembling, eyes cloudy with terror. I don’t like that. Not one bit.
Yes, the woman was going to torture me, maybe kill me, but I’m not about to condone Rion’s decision to kill her.
“Don’t...” I say weakly. His head swivels in my direction, and relief dances in his eyes. That relief seems to soften his harsh, masculine features.
“Buttercup,” Rion breathes, stepping closer to me. I flinch away immediately. I’m familiar with the cat, but the man is a stranger, one I have only spoken a few words to.
A flicker of pain crosses Rion’s handsome, exotic features before he hides it behind his signature, manic grin. With his attention no longer on her, Braelyn steps backward until her body is against the stone wall.
“Rion,” I whisper, unable to attribute my cat to this hulking beast of a man. With his sleeves pushed up, I can see the tattoos covering his muscular biceps. His dark hair is slightly greasy, and his face is a canvas of bruises and slashes.
What the heck happened to him?
“Are you hurt? How do you feel?” Rion steps even closer until he’s hovering over the table. He lifts a hand as if he means to brush at my mangled hair before dropping it. Indecision flares to life in his bright eyes.
“I’m okay.”
Damien’s gaze lowers so it’s once more on me. It’s the strangest sensation to know you’re the sole focus of two powerful, larger-than-life men. I know they’re seeing everything—the fear I can’t quite hide in my eyes, the scrapes on my arms from when I was dragged out of the cage, the blood still coating my scalp. Damien especially seems to see more than the average person. I’m stripped bare when his penetrating gaze is on me.
“Since you’re okay, I’m just going to kill this bitch, and then we’ll leave, m’kay?” Rion says with a jovial laugh. “I want you to be looked over by a doctor—”
“We have someone,” Damien cuts in scathingly. His gaze lowers to my collarbone as his rough thumb traces a pattern only he can see.
“Oh. Of course. What is yours is mine, mi amigo. Why am I even speaking Spanish? Or is that French? You know what? Never mind,” Rion rambles, some of his trademark cheer returning.
“We hate the fucking shifters,” Damien scoffs, bending down to scoop me up. I brace myself for the impending flashback, for the memories to bombard me, but when they don’t, I breathe out a sigh of relief. I don’t know if that means I’m healing or that Damien makes me feel safe. Both options terrify and exhilarate me.
“Well, suck a duck, Mage Bitch. We need to start working together now. We have a common goal, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not giving my Buttercup up for anything or anyone. Get it? Got it? Good. Besides, we totally had a bonding moment earlier. A bromance. I think we should have a ship name. Dion? Ramien?” Rion continues to babble incessantly as Damien’s eyes leave mine to face the enigmatic shifter.
Rion is once again hovering above Braelyn, claws extended. He’s humming softly as he prepares to make the fatal blow.
“Rion!” I scream, and once more, the shifter pauses. “Please. Don’t. Hurt. Her.” I emphasize each word separately as my heart thunders in my chest. “Please. I can’t take any more violence.”
He whirls toward me with lethal intensity in his gaze. His abrupt change in mood reminds me of a flip being switched on and then off. There’s something tenuous about the hold he has on himself. Something fragile.
“She was going to hurt you! She was going to take you from me!” he hisses, and despite his ire not being directed at me, I press myself further against Damien’s chest. Upon seeing my flinch, Rion physically works to calm himself. A deep breath. An unclenching of first one fist and then the other.
“If you kill her, I’ll never forgive you,” I whisper. I don’t know if my words will hold any weight—we’re virtual strangers, after all—but I know that they mean something to me. He had been my first friend in this hell hole. My only friend. Yes, he had lied to me, omitted important details, but he had still protected me.
With a start, I realize I want to get to know him, both his beast and the man who tames it.
For a prolonged moment, he merely stares at me. Silence stretches between us before he sighs heavily, retracting his claws and stepping away from the trembling female.
“By the decree of my Buttercup, you are spared. Blah. Blah. Blah.” Rion steps around the table toward me and Damien.
“Thank you,” Braelyn stutters out. “I am forever in your debt. I am yours to do with as you please. Protect. Fight. Whatever you need.”
“Just stay the hell out of my way,” Rion says cheerfully, stopping in front of me to pet my cheek.
“Not you,” Braelyn hisses. Her tear-filled gaze turns in my direction, awe, wonderment, and fear battling for dominance. “Hers. I am her loyal servant.”
“Me?” I squeak, wiggling in Damien’s arms. The mage glances at me before focusing intently on Braelyn, eyes narrowed in what I suspect is suspicion. Through his gaze, I watch Braelyn bow her head submissively.
“You need a protector—”
“She has a protector,” Damien says through clenched teeth.
Braelyn continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “And a friend. I can be that for you.”
My heart warms at her declaration. Besides Tessa, I don’t have a lot of female friends. In a world as gruesome as this one, I need all the friends I can get.
“You can’t trust her, Angel,” Damien whispers softly.
“You can, actually,” Rion cuts in, sighing deeply. “Shifters are able to pledge loyalty to one person. It’s why we’re often kept as bodyguards and assistants. If Braelyn pledges her fidelity to Nina, she’ll never be able to hurt her, and she’ll be bound to protect her at all costs.”
“A bodyguard,” Damien muses, his voice dethawing marginally as he warms up to the idea.
“And since both Rion and I are important figures in the shifter community down here,” Braelyn cuts in. “No one will be stupid enough to harm her. On our side, at least.” Damien ignores her jab, arms tightening around me like steel bands.
“What do you think, Buttercup?” Rion peers down at me curiously. His hand brushes at my hair, pushing it behind my ear.
“Bring her with us,” Damien breaks in before I can answer. “We’ll talk to the others.” He focuses on the small female. From this angle, I can’t imagine her being a bodyguard let alone a fighter. She’s tiny, petite, and her features are child-like. Yet, there’s a glint in her eyes that hint at an underlying coldness. This girl won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.
“But just a warning, my old friend,” Rion says with a grin. Braelyn gulps once before steeling herself, meeting his gaze head-on. “The others aren’t very nice to shifters. They don’t believe in friendship bracelets. So if you’re serious about this, be prepared for a lot of hanging around.” He laughs at some joke I don’t quite understand.
Braelyn nods her head once, a barely visible jerk of her chin.
“I’ll go. And I’ll protect her from all of you assholes.” With that declaration, she stalks forward, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Is it wrong that I’m beginning to like this girl? The same girl who intended to torture me?
Yes, it’s most definitely wrong, but I can’t find the will to care. Having her as a friend might just save not only my life, but the lives of my men as well.
Chapter 33
Nina
When we step back into the cafeteria, all eyes immediately turn in our direction. An array of emotions are visible on each of their faces. Fear, respect, and anger are the most prominent.
I notice, somewhat dizzily, that the man who had dragged me out of the cage is leaning against the wall, his throat slit. I have no doubt which man was behind his demise.
Surprisingly, the thought that Damien killed this man on my behalf doesn’t terrify me. Does that make me a horrible person? I was scared when Rion had threatened to kill Braelyn, but seeing this man dead sends a wave o
f cool satisfaction through me. I don’t even dare to begin analyzing my emotions.
Damien, whose head I’m still in, turns toward Rion and Braelyn. The two step forward in unison, proud sets to their chins and steely eyes.
“Nina is under our protection,” Rion says in a cold voice. Braelyn nods in affirmative.
“You’re choosing Blade’s whore over us?” a shifter exclaims, and Rion charges forward, preparing to strike, but before he can, Braelyn has her claws pressed to the unruly shifter’s neck.
“You dare to question your king?” Without waiting for his response, she swipes her claws across his throat. His hands move to cover the slashes, blood welling, before he collapses. “Anyone else have something to say?”
When no one moves, Braelyn huffs, stalking toward the pretty girl I had seen with her earlier. She grabs the girl’s hand, whispers something in her ear, and then pulls her to me.
“I’m Jenny,” the new girl says in a soft, almost timid, voice. “I, too, pledge my allegiance to you. Thank you for saving my mate.” Her emerald eyes turn in Braelyn’s direction as if she holds the moon and stars. Nothing but love emits from her gaze.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Rion asks, moving to stand in between us. He settles a hand on my thigh, squeezing once. “With this type of bond, you’ll be obligated to put Nina’s life before your own and each other’s.”
Braelyn and Jenny exchange an eloquent look before turning back toward Rion in unison. “We’re sure,” Braelyn answers for both of them, and Jenny nods her head once in agreement.
I yearn to have that sort of connection with someone. A bond and trust that courses through my veins and seeps into my bone marrow. For someone to stare at me as if I’m their entire world.
I’m shaken out of my musings by Damien carrying me out of the cafeteria and into the Labyrinth.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Angel?” he asks once we’re far enough away from the others as to not be overheard. I consider his question seriously, taking a moment to catalog my injuries. Though the skin on both my wrists and ankles burn, there are no noticeable marks. There’s a slight throbbing in my head, but nothing overwhelming. Mostly, I feel relieved that I had been rescued before something worse could happen. At least it’s better than—
