Page 35 of Unhinged Alphas

"This is our high-security wing, as you already know," she says, her voice strained. "For our most challenging cases. I know you only saw it briefly when you were here last."

And when you were expecting me, I think.

The heavy door swings open with a groan, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor. The air is thick with the stench of fear and despair, a cloying, sickly-sweet odor that makes my stomach churn. This time, Ivy's sweet scent isn't here to cut through the decay.

I step inside, my boots echoing against the bare concrete floor. The cells on either side are little more than cages, their bars rusted and pitted with age. Most of them are empty, but through the gloom, I can make out the huddled forms of the omegas within two of them, their eyes dull and lifeless, bodies wasted and frail.

Ivy was the only one the last time.

"There are others in solitary?" I ask, trying to sound disinterested.

"Yes. We received a new shipment from a raid ona rebel camp," she answers without looking back. "They've been quite recalcitrant, as you might imagine."

Shipment. Like they're things, not people.

It's all laid so fucking bare. How could I be too blind to see it before?

I can't help but wonder if this "shipment" is destined for the same fate as the omegas in the letter I found in my father's desk. Who knows where they actually came from.

Emilia leads me down the corridor, her steps quick and clipped, her shoulders rigid with tension. She doesn't look at the cells, doesn't acknowledge the suffering that surrounds us. It's as if she's trying to pretend it doesn't exist, to distance herself from the horror of what she's done.

Maybe she can look away, but I can't.

Can't ignore the evidence of the brutality and cruelty that has been inflicted on these poor, broken souls. Every whimper, every rattle of chains is like a knife to my heart, a searing reminder of my own complicity in this nightmare.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rends the air, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. I whirl around, my hand flying to the gun at my hipinstinctively.

"What the hell was that?" I demand, my voice rough with rage.

Emilia flinches, her face paling. "It's... it's nothing, Commander. Just a routine procedure."

But I'm already moving, striding down the corridor toward the source of the scream. I round a corner and stop dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat with a growl at the sight before me.

An omega, naked and shivering, is chained to the wall, her arms stretched above her head, her feet barely touching the ground. A young beta guard with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face stands before her, a high-pressure hose in his hands, the water blasting her red, raw skin with brutal force.

The omega's screams echo off the walls, her body convulsing with each punishing blast. Her eyes are wide and wild with terror as they lock on me for a split second before the guard sprays her right in the face.

"What the fuck is this?" I snarl, my voice shaking with barely contained white-hot fury consuming me. I'm so fucking close to snapping, flooded with mental images of grabbing this beta's head like a bowling ball and crushing it like a pumpkin.

Before I can tear the door off its hinges, Emiliabangs on the window and the guard freezes, looking up in confusion. When she gestures for him to turn off the hose, he does so reluctantly.

Emilia steps forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Commander, please. This is a standard procedure, a form of therapy designed to help the omegas adjust to their new lives."

"Therapy?" I spit, my lip curling in disgust. "You call thistherapy? Looks more like torture to me."

Did they do this to Ivy? The image of her standing in that omega's place, her skin raw and her delicate form shuddering, has a familiar feeling pricking its way out of my skin and my vision blackening around the edges. It's a sensation I know well, even if I haven't felt it since I tore out my commanding officer's spine when I discovered exactly how he'd been abusing his authority over the new recruits.

Emilia draws herself up, her eyes flashing with indignation. "I assure you, Commander, everything we do here is for the omegas' own good. This...treatment... is based on the latest scientific research, endorsed by the Council itself."

I give a bitter laugh that sounds more like a growl. "Scientific research, my ass. Fucking sadists."

But even as the words leave my lips,I know I can't act on them. Not yet. If I lose control now, if I let my rage and revulsion get the better of me, I'll blow what little of my cover is left. I'll lose any chance I have of getting to the bottom of this, of finding a way to avenge Ivy and save the others like her.

I can help them. I can make sure these monsters never touch Ivy or any omega ever again, but not if I snap right here and pulverize these fuckers.

Not again.

So I force myself to take a deep breath, to unclench my fists and relax my stance. "Fine," I finally say, more in response to my inner voice of reason than her. "But I want a full report on this 'procedure' before you do it again. And I want to see the rest of the facility.Now."

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