Page 28 of Captured

Shaking his head as he snorted at himself, Gra’ar watched the guard patrolling the roof turn, waiting until he was sure he wouldn’t be seen to dart forward. He didn’t have the time to waste to wonder what-ifs, he had to act before he lost Flea for good.

Chapter Nineteen

Flea

It was rather demeaning to be hogtied and left on her belly once they’d made it back to Deacon’s base, but at least they’d put her in a corner where she wouldn’t be stepped on and had cut the chain holding her wrists together. Hope had fluttered in her chest for a moment before they moved her arms behind her and rope wound around her flesh.

They’d also placed her near a fire, which Flea didn’t need to keep warm with the waves of heat rolling through her, but it was useful anyway. Biting back a hiss of pain, she strained against the ropes again. Her ears were peeled for the sound of footsteps inside the tent to her right where some of the men, including Deacon, had disappeared, but all she could hear was the low hum of voices. The alphas who hadn’t gone inside the tent had wandered off, but not without enough volatile looks in her direction to let her know she was in trouble.

Her left arm and leg throbbed, the skin so tight it felt like it would split open, but she kept them pushed toward the flames. All she needed was a few more minutes…

The trip to Deacon’s base had been long. He took a twisting route even though she knew where he was heading, but she wasn’t able to tell if it had been out of necessity or to try and confuse her. She’d been carried the entire way, but they hadn’t hogtied her until she’d been dropped belly first on the warehouse floor.

“Now you just stay right there like a good little omega while I take care of a few things. When I come back we’ll put you in your temporary accommodations and see if you’re willing to start making amends.”

She’d snapped at his hand when he’d reached to push her hair out of her face. While she could feel her heat coming on stronger, she wasn’t far enough gone to give up fighting yet.

Deacon maintained the cold expression he always wore but Flea saw the flash of rage. If her cycle hadn’t been starting it would have been easy to push him into punishing her in a way that would have ended her misery. He’d always had a short tempter under the frigid mask.

“Perfect fucking timing,” she muttered under her breath.

She almost let out a startled yell when the ropes binding her finally snapped. Jerking away from the flames, Flea rolled to her bottom and quickly patted her smoking sock, a litany of curses running through her head that she couldn’t give voice to.

Once she was sure the foot that landed in the fire wasn’t going to go up in flames, her eyes lifted to dart around, checking if anyone was watching her. It seemed impossible that Deacon had left her without a guard, but he’d always underestimated her. He likely assumed the rope was enough to keep her in place.

Huffing as a smirk pulled at her lips, Flea forced herself to her feet. Her skin was still tight and hot where she’d held it close to the flames, but she couldn’t give in to the pain. It was minor compared to what would be done to her if she didn’t get out of the warehouse before Deacon realized she was missing.

Laying one end of the rope in the fire, she scuttled over to the wall of the building, pressing herself between two crates to get her bearings while she tucked the other end of the rope underneath one of them. Deacon’s tent was in the back corner, the fire between it and the outer wall to help contain the heat. There were other tents and lean-tos down the middle of the warehouse, while the walls were lined with boxes and goods either scavenged from elsewhere or brought down from above. It was easy to tell which held the drugs, the pristine condition of the containers announcing their value when everything else in the lower levels was dented and used until it was nothing better than scraps for the fires.

With the goods pressed all the way to the walls, her only options to reach the front of the warehouse were to climb over them, where she would be in the open and motion obvious, or to make her way through the area crawling with the members of Deacon’s gang. Alphas weren’t the only ones inside the warehouse, Flea spotted a few scrawnier bodies who were likely betas forced to act as servants to the larger males, but her nose couldn’t pick up a single female. Her scent alone would call attention to her if she got too close to anyone.

And while the length of rope would buy her a little time, she needed to be somewhere else when the fire took hold.

Chewing her bottom lip, her gaze wandered until she spotted a hunched form leaning over a large metal tub set between a makeshift house and the stacks of crates. It took a moment for her to realize the small splashes she could hear came from them, and the figure was scrubbing something inside the tub. When she noticed the pile of fabric beside person, she couldn’t stop her grin.

It was nothing to sneak across the space separating them, Flea snatching the first set of clothing off the top of the pile before slipping into another cubbyhole between the crates nearby. Her nose curled at the scent rising off the fabric, smoke and sweat and musk, but she pulled it on over her own clothing anyway. Tugging up the hood to tuck her hair inside, she figured she could pass for one of the beta workers well enough to make her way to the front.

She was almost there when an alpha near the doors called out to her. Ducking her head further and increasing her pace, she tried to move past him, but his large body blocked her path before she could.

“Hey, why aren’t you working? What are you doing?”

Flea cleared her throat, brain scrambling to give her a logical answer. Remembering the stacks of wood she’d spotted behind the warehouse, she kept her voice low and did her best to mask her naturally higher tone.

“I’m going out to gather more wood for the fires.”

She tried to sidestep the male, but he stepped with her, hand shooting out to grip her chin as shouts began near the back of the warehouse. She was willing to bet her escape had been noticed with the rise of the smoke in the back, and she was out of time.

“You know you can’t…”

Glaring up into narrowed eyes, she could see the exact moment he realized she wasn’t just another one of the betas. His words died off as his eyes went wide. Knowing it was her last chance, Flea stepped forward to press herself against the alpha, arms slipping around his waist.

“Please,” she whispered, wriggling against him to hide what her hands were doing. “Please, I don’t want them all to have me. I just want one alpha. A strong one, like you.”

The husky tone and seductive smile she used were things she’d practiced for years. She’d learned sex was the best way to distract males long ago. He never even felt the dagger slipping from its sheath at his hip.

His large hand moved from her chin to wrap around her throat as the blade passed between his ribs, a shocked burble of blood bursting from his lips even as he tried to squeeze. Flea dug the dagger deeper, not bothering to struggle against his hold as his mouth worked but no words came out. Her head was just beginning to throb when his grip loosened and he staggered back. While she would have liked to keep the knife for protection, it stayed lodged in his side when he moved away from her, and she didn’t have the time to waste trying to get it back.

More shouting pulled her attention to the closing window for her escape. Figuring it was too late to try to sneak the rest of the way to the doors, she took off running as fast as her legs would allow.

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