Page 14 of Bound By Pain
“We’re good,” Ridley grunts when he swings into his seat. He glances over at me, my rage and determination reflected in his eyes. Nodding sharply, I put the pedal to the floor.
“Let’s go get our girl.”
CHAPTER 9
Agonizing wavesof pain wrack my body as I slowly wake. Everything hurts. My body, my heart, my whole fucking soul.
When I try to shift my body to a sitting position, a whimper slips through my lips, loud in the too-quiet room. Having given up on moving, I let my eyes slip closed and take stock of the damage done to my body. Neck, underarms, wrists, thighs… Every scent gland in my body is gone. Leaving only the faint remnants of pineapple and coconut mixed with the metallic notes of blood.
My legs shift, sending a fresh wave of pain through my aching body. Horror clogs my throat, gripping like a vice and stealing the breath from my lungs. Did he… I shut the thoughts off before I fully process them. Acknowledging any damage outsideof the removal of my scent glands will wreck me. I can deal with whatever else happened later.
The sound of the door to the room smacking against the wall has my eyes flying open. I watch quietly, heart pounding against my ribs, as they drag an unconscious man back into the room and toss him into a cage. His neck is scarred with the same wounds as mine.
These assholes sure are moving quickly.
Fighting back a wave of nausea, I force myself to lean against the bars at the back of my cage, in a somewhat upright position. Each minuscule movement of my body is torture. Panting through the pain, I glance at the cages to my right, noting that the one holding the large Alpha, my mysterious fifth mate, is now empty. Fear skitters up my spine when I imagine him beneath the Doctor’s blade, but the lack of pain in our Fated connection tells me he is being subjected to a different atrocity.
The longer I sit and stare at the dreary walls of my new prison, the quicker my mind spirals. My life isn’t supposed to be like this. I’m not naïve enough to think everything will always be sunny beaches and clear skies. Storms are inevitable.
But this? Being here? This isn’t a summer storm; it’s a Category 5 hurricane. The wreckage of my dreams lies in tatters around me as the wind tosses me about.
I should be curled up in my nest, surrounded by my mates. Their bonds should shine brightly in my chest, feeding me all of their love and joy.
Instead, I’m freezing, alone, and in agony. Trapped by men who are determined to break me the way they have the other victims in the room.
“He’s going to find a way out.” The hushed words are barely a breath in the air. If the woman next to me weren’t so close, they would have been as lost as I feel.
Fighting the need to turn to her, to seek comfort in the presence of another person, I push myself up, closer to a sitting position. The change shifts my weight, doing little to ease the pain still radiating through me.
Peeking at the woman next to me, her steadfast belief in my newest mate sparks the tiniest flame of jealousy. Rationally, I know it’s misplaced. I have no way of knowing how long she’s been here or what she has been through. Yet my instincts push for retribution.
Not necessarily for the connection that has formed between them, but for this Omega’s faith in my Fate-matched mate. It bothers me because I do not feel the same. How can I believe he will rescue me when he cannot bring himself to even glance my way?
No. The only ways I can escape this hell are to free myself or to wait until the FCDA finally finds its backers and the location of this breeding camp gets uncovered.
Time blurs. Minutes or hours could have passed before the doors open again. Two guards enter alone. We wait with bated breath to see who they will target next. Panic claws its way up my throat when they aim for my cage.
Please, no.
I cannot bear more of this torture when my body is already so ruined.
The cage door opens, and their hands grab at my body as they drag me from within. I fight. Scream and cry, but the pain from twisting away is too much. I can feel fresh blood leaking from where I’ve torn the stitches holding my wounds together.
With a ragged sob, I give in. I accept the shit hand Fate has dealt me and allow them to drag me down the worn hall.
When another door opens, I’m carried inside. My breath catches when I see my mystery mate slumped in a chair across the room. Chains bind him to the metal, too thick for even an Alpha’s strength to break. Fury and fear skitter up my spine as I’m tossed to the floor before his feet.
A man walks in several seconds later, swaggering toward us like he’s the king of this entire twisted crime ring. His skin is several shades darker than my mate’s, but there is a similarity between them that gives me pause.
“Wake him up,” he commands. He crouches beside me, hands gripping my jaw until it aches.
Stirring movements have my eyes flickering to where my mate is. Light green eyes flutter open before immediately locking on me. A growl vibrates up his chest, his teeth bared when he sees the other man’s hand on my skin.
“You should have given in,Creed. Now I’m going to force your hand.”
The small thrill I feel learning my mate’s name extinguishes quickly when one guard produces a needle and plunges it into Creed’s arm. His scent explodes into the room, a devastatingly perfect after-rain smell with just a hint of fresh soil.
I watch in horror as his pupils dilate, taking on a nearly feral quality with the vacant look in his now expressionless eyes. What the fuck did they give him?!
