Page 49 of Feral

“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. Ihadto.

“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 wasthe 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 ashewas 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.

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