He flushed beet red. “R-right, um,” he said, almost dropping it as he handed it over.
“Okay, let’s go in.”
Casey took me to the first security door, unlocking it. I stepped through it quickly and walked over to Hugo’s cage. He stood and stretched as I approached, reaching his hand out eagerly as I took food out of my purse and handed it to him.
“You okay?” I asked him as he sat down on his cot.
“Am now,” he grunted, tearing into the sausage roll with a groan. I could feel the eyes of the other ferals on me, some emitting low growls as they watched.
“Here,” I said to Casey, pulling the rest of the bag of food out. We had eleven alphas down here right now, and it had been easy enough to grab a treat for each of them. “I don’t know how to give it to them safely, so…”
His eyes lit up. “That’s very kind of you, Miss Laurel.”
I watched as he carefully distributed the food to each of the cages. The noise in here quieted as most of the alphas took the food to the back of their cage to eat safely.
“Hey!” Hugo said. “This food was part of our deal! What did those fuckers do to earn it?”
I tossed him a pastry, and he shook his head.
I looked over, across from him, to where Ocean was sleeping on his cot.
“He’s been out all morning,” Hugo said. “First time takes a lot out of you. He did well, though. He’ll be okay once my training settles in.”
I glanced at the screen by Lars’s office, where the fights played for the guards to view.
“That stunt he pulled wasn’t ideal, though.” Hugo said. “Gonna draw attention.”
“I’m not sure we can do anything about that,” I replied, turning to him.
Hugo shook his head. “No, it was all instinct. Just gottahope they write it off as a funny gimmick and don’t look too closely.”
I walked to Ocean’s cage, crouching down and resting my hand on the bars. “Ocean?” I asked. He groaned, stirring a bit. “Ocean,” I repeated a bit louder.
He blinked his eyes open. Dried blood covered his face, and there was a swollen gash above his eye. He had scratches and bruises all over his skin, and he winced as he put pressure on his left wrist to lift himself up.
“Laurel,” he said, his eyes soft as he looked at me.
“Casey, can you let him out? I want to take him to the medical bay.”
“I’m fine,” Ocean protested, sitting up and wincing again. “I heal fast.”
Casey was already moving to unlock his cage.
“Don’t be silly,” I told him. “We have to make sure you’re as fit as possible if you want to survive.”
I stepped inside and helped him to his feet. My own leg had healed by now, and I slipped under his arm to support him as we walked over to the medical bay.
“I'll keep an eye on things outside,” Casey told us, leaving us alone in the cold, sterile room.
I collected my supplies while Ocean sat down on the stretcher. There was a freezer, and I pulled out some ice packs for his wrist and ankle. Then I set a chair in front of him and prepared my gauze and saline.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” Ocean said when I pulled on my gloves and started cleaning the nick above his eye.
“Hold still,” I chided, getting the dried blood off him. We were silent for a minute while I continued to work. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” I told him slowly as I soaked more gauze. “After my brother left, it was up to me to patch myself up every time?—”
I cut myself off before I went further.
Ocean grabbed my hand, brow furrowing. “Every time what?” My face started burning as I realized what I’d let slip. “Are you really accident prone or something?”
