Page 599 of Fated Mates of Breeder Prison

The guards carried me back to the cell, but for once, I didn’t mind the journey.

I heard the faint sounds of footsteps and murmured conversations.

The door slid open, and the dim light of the cell welcomed me back.

As the door closed behind me, I allowed myself a small smile.

For once, the odds seemed to be in our favor.

And with each passing moment, freedom felt closer than ever before.

* * *

The chill of the cell seemed more pronounced when I entered, but seeing Ellie’s face warmed me instantly.

Her eyes searched mine, looking for answers.

Before she could voice her thoughts, I declared:

“We’re leaving.”

Ellie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “When?”

“Now.”

A momentary panic set into her eyes, and she glanced around our small prison. “But how do you know when?”

I hesitated, realizing my Vision hadn’t provided a clear timeline. “I don’t,” I admitted, frustration tingeing my words. “But the Supervisor might realize the story I fed him is fake at any moment. Seconds, minutes, hours… days? I can’t be sure. That’s why we have to act now.”

My mind raced as I tried to process our next steps.

The Vision, always a consistent force in my life, never once misled me.

All it required was a starting point — a singular act to set the rest in motion, like a series of dominoes.

I thought of my Visions, of the vivid threads of destiny that seemed to weave and intertwine, but this time, I wasn’t merely an observer.

This time, I would choose the path.

I approached the cell door, feeling the cold metal beneath my fingertips.

With a deep breath, I accessed my unique ability, the one that allowed me to project ten seconds into the future.

A flurry of images flashed through my mind, each presenting a potential outcome.

There I was, banging on the door, my palms stinging from the repeated impact.

When that didn’t work, the potential outcomes split off into a dozen other possibilities; I kicked at the door, ran at it with my shoulder; in one reality, I hurt myself, in another, I repeated the act over and over again.

Countless iterations of the same action filtered before me over and over again.

In another Vision, I hurled my cot through the air, crashing against the door in a futile attempt to break it down.

Yet another vision showed me leveraging my cot, trying to pry the door open.

All to no avail.

I felt Ellie’s eyes on me, the weight of her concern pressing against my back.

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