As part of my military training, I’d studied how to stay strong against all kinds of torture, but none of those books had taken into consideration the soul-wrenching pain of being separated from my mate.
Time had ceased to hold any meaning. My cell was dark and windowless, the lights flickering on and off at random intervals. The smell of mold and piss were my only companions. Mostly, there was silence, broken only by the clang of distant doors, the echo of footsteps, and the occasional screams.
I fought sleep, unwilling to leave myself vulnerable to anyone entering my cell. As I rested my head back on the filthy wall, barely remaining upright, I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to fight off the guards anymore.
When they had thrown me into this godforsaken cell, I’d been overwhelmed with panic at being separated from my mate and pack brothers. I had shouted for a lawyer, a phone call, something. I was ignored. When I demanded bedding, food, and a fucking real toilet instead of this shit-infested hole in the floor, the guards laughed in my face. I had never experienced this kind of powerlessness—even as a teen in North Woods, I’d held a level of authority as an alpha. Now they were treating me like… like an omega.
The realization crushed my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had been in this cell for a handful of days. Josie had been imprisoned at the DA for two fucking years. And I, having never once fucking lived through being stripped of my rights, had thought I knew what the government was like, had thought if I did everything right, I could control the situation and protect my pack.
My tears finally escaped, running slow tracks down my cheeks against my will. All I wanted was to be far away from here with Josie in my arms. In the hazy moments where sleep took hold of me, she begged me to save her, her voice drenched in terror. I would jolt awake, feeling like I was suffocating. If I ever got out of here, I would spend my whole life trying to make this right again.
The guards who brought my meals were my only form of human contact. If I was lucky, they would throw down the tray of rotten food before leaving. If I was unlucky, they would use me as their punching bag. The last time two guards entered, they had taunted me by telling me what they would do to my omega while I was helpless to do anything but watch. Rage and fear had overtaken me as I lunged towards the guards. Did they have Josie? Was she stuck in this hellhole?
Even in my weakened state, I had beaten them half to death before additional guards stormed into the room, pulling me off them and knocking me unconscious. When I’d woken, my wrists were in tight manacles attached to chains on the wall. That was days ago, and every part of my body still screamed with pain—my skin was covered in bruises and a deep ache settled in my muscles and bones.
I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but any movement sent sharp bursts of agony through me. I gritted my teeth. How could this have happened? I’d fought my whole life to stay in control, mastering my emotions and my environment so nothing could catch me off guard. But Josie had crashed through my shields and burrowed deep inside my soul.
The only thing that had kept me from floating into madness was feeling my brothers through the bond. Even though their emotions were a steady stream of pain and agony, they were my anchors, a reminder that I wasn’t alone. I wished I could reach Josie through the bond, hating that she was alone. Although… if they ended up killing us, it would be better for her not to feel it through the bond.
The clang of my cell door unlocking pulled me out of my spiral of self-contempt. Light streamed in through the door, forcing me to squint against the brightness. Four armed alphas in full tactical gear stood in the opening. Spikes of alarm echoed through the bond, and I wondered if my brothers were experiencing the same thing right now. Was this the end?
I stayed on the floor, unsure of my ability to stand, even though it pricked my pride to imagine dying slumped over in the corner of this cell. My eyes swept over the guards, taking in their sneers and the tight way they held onto their guns. A small sense of satisfaction washed through me that even in my weakened state, they feared me.
One of the guards threw down the tray he was holding, and the disgusting sandwich on it flew across the cell, hitting the cinderblocks with a splat.
I stared at the guards blankly, refusing to give them a reaction.
“Look at this ugly, pansy-ass motherfucker. Too weak to stand,” one of the guards sneered.
“Easy to be brave with your big gun there. Compensating for something?” I asked without thinking. I could picture Ben and Josie’s horrified expressions at my taunts. Cam, I’m sure, would have said something even worse.
One of the guards growled and lunged at me, but another held him back.
“We can’t touch him anymore,” the guard growled. “He has to look all pretty for court.”
My heart beat faster. Court meant they wouldn’t kill me in secret and dump my body. That was something.
“If I’m going to court, I have the right to speak to a lawyer.”
One of the guards repeated my words in a mocking, baby voice. Even in my rage-induced haze, I scrunched my eyebrows. Did he think that was a good comeback?
“You’ll get exactly the justice you deserve,” the guard closest to the door said. “Let’s go,” he said to the others and they filed out of the cell. The guard I’d insulted hesitated before following the others.
They left me alone again, wondering exactly whose justice we would face.
