Plink. Plink. Plink. The sound bounces off the small walls enclosing me, never stopping. Plink. Plink. Plink. Looking around, I glance at all the nooks and crannies, desperate to find where it’s coming from, but like every other day, nothing is visible.
A heavy sigh pulls from my lips as I force myself to stand up, kicking yesterday’s food to the side. Already maggots squirm about, threatening the few contents of my stomach. Turning, I hold my hand to my lips and gag. Bile rises, choking me, but nothing comes up any further.
I don’t even want to know what that smell combination will do. Already, the fetid stench of dampness and mold fills the confines, setting my head to throbbing, not at all aided by the infernal sound. Plink. Plink. Plink. Even as I sleep at night, it invades my dreams, what few I have.
It’s a cacophony of madness with no end in sight. There aren’t even any windows to tell me what time of day it is. The only way I have any semblance of a routine is based off of the guards and when they switch up, but even that doesn’t tell me if it’s day or night.
Walking over to the wall, I slide my fingers down the rough surface, touching the marks I’ve gouged out. There are far too many. Counting them in my head, I sink to the floor and curl into a ball. It’s been almost a month since I’ve been tossed in here, alone with nothing but my thoughts and the infernal sound.
Plink. Plink. Plink. Has it always been with me? It’s hard to think back to when I first arrived. It felt like ages ago though the scratches tell a much different story. Everything is blurred in my mind, a jumbled mess that I have no hope of sorting out.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I stare at the lines. They merge into one blurry blob until I can no longer differentiate which is which. Wrapping my arms about my shoulders, I rock back and forth, self-soothing in the only way I know how. If only I hadn’t listened to Alexi. If only I had done the right thing and told Alpha Altris what she was planning.
But no.
I wanted to be included, to not be exiled from my friendship. And where did that get me? Alone in a cell with no one to talk to except the jeering soldiers that keep watch. Their merciless taunts echo about in the empty cell, the only thing to keep me company as I force myself to sleep.
“Looks like you’re having maggots for dinner again, ay?”
My spine stiffens as the familiar voice taunts me. “What is it you want?” My voice is garbled, wet with my tears.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” the man seethes. “I’m a Guardian Alpha. You’ll be treating me with respect.”
“Respect.” I spit the word out of my mouth like the vile acid I long to regurgitate. “It’s laughable that you, a pig-headed buffoon, have the audacity to talk to me about respect.” My voice still wavers, threatening to reveal the false bravado I so desperately try to put on.
I long to hurl threats, harsher insults, but I hold back, not wishing to get into any more trouble. It’s bad enough I allowed myself that moment of weakness, to say anything to the man at all. Normally I’m able to let things go, but for some reason, I reached my endpoint, and unleashed a fraction of the hopeless rage that bubbles inside.
The squeak of the door is ominous, threatening even, as he shoves it open. Soon, the heavy tread of his shoes is cut off by a loud clatter and squish. My body seizes at the loud sound, my pulse racing so fast my vision blackens for a second. My maggots. I guess I won’t be eating them for dinner after all.
A ghost of a smile hovers on my lips at the idea of this behemoth of a man becoming even more enraged for ruining my supposed punishment. Did he really not know that the medical staff that seems to work down here brings me fresh food daily? He would have to forcibly shove it down my throat for that to be my dinner.
Large, meaty hands wrap around my shoulders, pulling me up to a standing position. The sudden change in altitude, along with my minuscule eating habits, converge in my stomach, flipping it about until I can no longer hold in the contents.
Turning me in his grasp, the man has no idea how very close to danger he is, but he insists on shaking me, tossing me about like a rag doll as he screams in my face. Unable to hold back any longer, my mouth opens, pouring out the meager contents of my stomach until it coats his face.
Outrage vibrates through the air, souring the dank scent even further with the acrid stench of his fury. A roar rips from his throat, setting my body to trembling. I have no means to protect myself, no way of keeping safe if he decides to take his anger out on me.
“I-I’m sorry. I-.” He tosses me to the side like some worthless thing, as if my very being isn’t enough. I’m not enough.
Agony explodes through my skull as my body slams into the wall. I lay there, broken, crumpled, without enough energy to even cry. My body throbs with each beat of my heart; ironically, it syncs up with the water that continues to drip somewhere unseen.
Plink-pound. Plink-pound. Plink-pound.
My eyes drift shut as sweet release drifts over me, easing the pain from my body for these precious moments of unconsciousness. I can hear frantic movement, detect the small eddies of air as it swirls over me, but it’s all ethereal, otherworldly, as if none of this actually exists.
Fuck Alphas. This is why I ran. This is why I chose to live a simple life in the desert as opposed to being a broodmare for the elites. None of them valued life, least of all, a life like mine. Once more, thick hands wrap around me, and I whimper as they tug at me, moving me.
I don’t want to move. I want to lie here, to be nothing, to just exist until my life is finally over. Unwilling to open my eyes, I force my other senses to assess for me. The hands aren’t like the guards. They feel kinder somehow, if that’s even possible. This new man even smells different — masculine and clinical at the same time. More than likely, he’s one of the doctors that roam the halls.
It’s not a scent I recognize enough to put with a name, so he’s certainly not one of the various workers that bring me my meals. Though I’ve smelled him before, we’ve never interacted. What does he want with me now? No doubt the guard has harmed me in some way, and that’s why the doctor is pulling me up.
But what’s the use of fixing something that you’re just going to toss aside later? Why not let me lie here in peace, taking my last breaths alone as I have been for so many weeks? Unless that’s my true punishment. Keep me well enough to suffer and not seek the sweet release of death.
He cradles me to him, hugging me close to his chest where I can hear his heart. It’s discordant to the plink that haunts my dreams, as if his body is purposefully pulsing at an off beat, breaking up the monotonous rhythm that is my new life. Though I detest being this close to an Alpha, the sound offers me something new, something different to latch onto.
Though I’m not sure where I’m going, it’s somewhere different, somewhere that smells clean. Perhaps this is the final journey before I can cross over. An odd peace descends on my body as I’m laid out on the softest of beds. Eronoiac, the ferryman of the dead, must not be too far now.
I never thought I’d long for death. It was never in my plans before. I was never one of those morose omegas that walked about in mourning clothes, just waiting for my chance. I had so much to live for, so much I wanted to experience. But perhaps it’s best this way.
As my eyes race back and forth beneath my closed lids, I allow another tear to gather and slide down. Though death, at this point feels preferable, there is a small part that mourns what I’m leaving behind.
I should be going into heat soon, and with it, the possibility of becoming a mated omega with a beta of my choosing. Perhaps children if Ilaria blesses. But now, I’ll be nothing more than a memory, a shadow, existing for a brief time and then snuffed out.
Though I had no plans once I entered the commune, I always dreamed of making a difference somehow. It didn’t matter how, but now I’ll never know what it’s like to be of service. One stupid mistake and all my potential flittered away like delicate wingwinds fluttering from flower to flower.
Oh to be free like that. To float on the breeze, going wherever it takes me. Instead, my body is leaden, heavy, and incapable of moving. As my mind fractures, separating within me, I allow one more tear to fall.
* * *
A loud beeping sound cuts into the fog that laces my brain. It’s that same cadence as the godsforsaken plinking sound, but this time, it’s far harsher, strident even. Has the Council of the Dead seen fit to send me to Arnakas due to my crimes?
Unbidden, more tears gather at the corners of my eyes. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Turning my head, I rest my cheek against the cool pillow and open my eyes. Unless eternal damnation looks like a hospital, the truth of the matter is I’m not dead, probably not even close.
Groaning, I turn to the other side and stare at the monitor that’s making that sound and glare at it, wishing for just a moment’s peace. I go to move, to see if I can somehow silence the machine or at least soften the sound, but I can’t. Though I jerk and tug as hard as I can, my limbs lie there, immobile.
My eyes flit toward my right arm, and my pulse quickens as I stare at the cuffs chaining me to the bed. The beeps from the machine also spike, sounding loud and grating to my ears. My arms and legs strain at the restraints, but it’s no use. Nothing I do makes them release.
Frantic, I look about, seeking out the strange Alpha that brought me here, but it’s just me. I’m alone. Again. My breaths come in rapid inhalations as my mind buzzes at the speed of light. Is this my new prison cell? Have I truly been so horrible of a prisoner that they’re choosing to restrain me?
“Please,” I croak in the silence, my voice hoarse and raw, as if I’ve been screaming. “Please. I’ll eat the food. I’ll do anything. I’ll-I’ll obey.”
Since the moment I rebelled and fled from Stanlion as a youth, I was never disobedient. I behaved as well as I knew how, always following the Clan Mother’s edicts as gospel. One mistake. One simple, stupid mistake, and now I’m not even allowed the dignity of moving.
Dragging a deep breath into my lungs, my heart stops as terror winds its way around my spine. A familiar scent permeates my brain, one that wasn’t there before. Or did I just miss it somehow? Amongst the scents of the medicine, chemicals, and the others that work here, a familiar smell teases my nose, stirring up memories I had long since repressed.
Even though I can smell the other Alphas that have come and gone out of this room, this one stands out above the rest, calling to me in a way that it shouldn’t. Davix. A name I haven’t thought about since the day I put Stanlion behind me. But how is it here? How can I smell him? Would the gods really be so cruel as to bring us together after the way I left?
No doubt it’s just a figment of my imagination, the worst possible scenario playing out in my head like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Digging my nails into my palm, I wait for the tell-tale pain, the one to tell me if I’m dreaming or not, but it never comes.
It’s a dull buzz against my skin, the very whisper of discomfort without the sharp, jagged edges. I am dreaming. I have to be. A soft shuffling grabs my attention, and I look over at the corner where a massive man walks toward the bed.
Every time I blink, his face changes, morphs, turning into the young Alpha that held me, wiped away my tears, and kissed the scrapes and cuts that came with being a rambunctious child. With the next blink, he is the stranger that dragged me from the cell earlier. Green eyes clash with the memory of light blue with flecks of gold.
It’s not him. It’s not Davix. Should I be grateful? Should I cry out for the one Alpha that might actually be able to save me? Bitter tears burn my eyes as I push that thought back into my brain. No doubt Davix is already mated, and if he isn’t, he certainly wouldn’t want to help me.
I shake my head, forcing my brain to dispel the image that threatens to superimpose onto the man stalking closer. A scent permeates the air — all masculine aggression. Is it from Davix or this stranger? The scents intermingle until I cannot tell one from the other. With each step this stranger takes toward me, the smell of Davix dissipates.
It’s been so long since I’ve held the scent of my first crush in my nose that I can no longer say with any certainty if Davix’s scent was always so overbearing or if it’s all coming from this man, but either way, I despise it. I loathe the way it churns my insides. At the commune, I was no longer prey. I was equal with everyone there. But here, back in Stanlion, I can feel this Alpha’s insistent presence as he pushes his way forward.
“Ahh. You’re awake.”
