Even though Rockcastle is a little isolated and a lot backwards, one thing they’ve never questioned is the value of male omegas. There have never been many, but Rockcastle has always produced one or two every generation. I’m not sure why male omegas have been regulated to little more than myths and folklore or why the rest of the shifter world seems to have almost completely lost the knowledge of male omega pregnancy outside of Rockcastle.
How—and why—Doyle, of all people, suddenly has that knowledge—when only a couple months ago he didn’t have a clue—is a mystery. He must have his claws in deeper than I thought.
Unfortunately, now that he knows, the danger is already realized. I can’t take the knowledge from his brain. Not without taking his head off, anyway. The only thing I can do now is try to prevent him from getting his hands on Neil and putting his disgusting plan into motion.
Which means I really need to get the hell out of here.
My situation hasn’t improved much from earlier except that I’m alone and, as an added bonus, conscious. I can’t be sure how long Doyle’s been gone, but it’s still light outside so I doubt more than an hour has passed. He probably didn’t mean for the drug he gaveme before he left to wear off this quickly, and the fact that it did gives me an opportunity.
One I’m not going to waste. Or try not to anyway.
I shove to my feet and slam my shoulder against the side of the cage. It rocks a little, but the bars don’t budge. Of course that would’ve been way too easy. I’d already be out of here and on my way if it were that simple.
There’s a chance if I make enough noise, I’ll draw someone’s attention, but I don’t think humans would be too keen on letting a giant wolf out of a cage. And that’s if they don’t just call animal control.Or shoot me.
I snort and blow out a breath, my frustration morphing into anger.
At Doyle.
At the situation.
And at myself.
What good am I if I can’t even get out of this stupid cage?
I slam myself against the bars again, rocking the cage maybe half an inch, but otherwise doing absolutely nothing. I repeat the process again and again, working myself into a frenzy as my wolf howls with rage in my head. After a couple minutes, I collapse, panting and exhausted, my shoulder throbbing. Whining softly, I rest my chin on my paws, and let out a long, helpless sigh.
This is no use. The only thing I’m succeeding in doing is causing myself pain. But what am I supposed to do?
Across the room, the doorknob rattles, the barely there sound almost too quiet even for my shifter ears to pick it up. The rattling ends just as quickly as it began and the silence returns. Somebody must’ve mistaken this room for theirs, and when they realized the key didn’t work, they moved on.
Except… the knob rattles again. This time the sound is louder, the person fiddling with the doorknob seeming a little more determined.
I pick my head up, staring in the direction of the door. If some human, a housekeeper or something, is about to burst in here, they’re definitely going to notice the giant wolf in a cage.
But I can’t hide. Or even shift.
I press myself against the back of the cage, lowering onto my belly and trying to make myself smaller, less threatening. I still look like exactly what I am—a huge wolf—but maybe if I act enough like a dog they might believe I’m some kind of hybrid.
The rattling continues, and I hear someone outside mutter a curse. The voice is too low for me to identify its owner, but I can tell it’s female.
A flicker of hope ignites in my chest. Could it be…
Something clicks, and there’s a quiet, pleased noise from whoever’s at the door. Half a second later, the doorknob turns and the door swings open. The bed blocks some of my view of the person in the doorway, but a quick sniff of the air confirms it’s Raquel.
“Blake?” she whispers into the room, voice hesitant as she pokes her head past the doorway.
I let out a soft whine to let her know I’m here, and she slips inside, shutting the door behind her. She walks around the edge of the bed, sees the cage, and her eyes widen before she rushes over and crouches next to the bars.
“Neil’s not with you,” she says, shoulder slumping.
I sadly shake my head from side to side.
She holds my gaze. “Is he safe at least?”
I simply stare back at her, the question too complicated to be answered with a simple yes or no.
“Okay then.” She nods to herself, glancing around the room, then takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure when Doyle will be back, so let’s get you out of there, and then we can go ride to Neil’s rescue or whatever.”
