Page 32 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

I try to speak, but my mouth won’t obey. My body feels distant, disconnected.

“Excellent,” she says, obviously interpreting my silence as submission. “Now, let’s begin. Who are you?”

The question reverberates through the emptiness. Who am I?

A name rises from the void:Hailey.

But Hailey who? Hailey what?

“She’s non-responsive,” the beta notes.

“Try again,” Veyra instructs, leaning closer. “Little pig, who are you? What’s your designation?”

Designation? The word feels wrong. I don’t have a designation. I have…

Hailey Ironwood,a voice whispers from deep within.Omega.Pack.

Pack.

The word cuts through the fog like a knife. Pack. Family. Home.

“Pack,” I manage to whisper, the word slurred but recognizable.

Veyra’s expression darkens. “Increase the dose. She’s still fighting it.”

“Uh…we’re at maximum safe levels,” the beta warns. “Any more could cause permanent damage.”

“I don’t care,” Veyra snaps. “Break her mind if you have to. Just make sure she forgets them.”

Through the haze, I see her reach for another syringe. Panic flares, bright and hot. If she gives me more, I might not be able to hold on. Might lose myself completely.

No. The thought is clear, cutting through the chaos.No, I won’t let her win.

With every ounce of strength I have left, I focus on the restraint on my right wrist. The one that’s been rubbing against my skin, creating a small pool of slickness. Blood or sweat, I’m not sure, but it might be enough.

While Veyra argues with the beta about dosages, I twist my hand, ignoring the pain as the restraint digs deeper. Twist, pull, twist again.

The padding slips. Just a little. Just enough that my hand, now slicked with moisture, might?—

I yank with all my might.

My hand pulls free.

For a suspended moment, no one moves. Veyra’s eyes widen in shock. The beta freezes, mouth half-open.

Then I’m moving, ripping the IV from my arm, clawing at the restraint around my forehead. Alarms blare as monitors register my sudden activity.

“Restrain her!” Veyra shouts, lunging for my free arm.

I swing wildly, my coordination shot from the drugs, but luck or desperation guides my hand. My nails rake across her face, drawing blood.

She reels back with a cry of pain and outrage. I use the moment to tear at the strap across my waist, pulling it loose enough to twist onto my side.

The beta grabs for me, but the drugs have made me slippery. Unpredictable. I kick out with legs only half-freed from their restraints, catching him in the stomach. He doubles over, gasping.

Freedom. I need freedom. Need to get away, to find…

Pack. Home. Mine.

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